"The latter were jealous that he, a mere civilian doctor, should dare to interfere, I suppose," remarked the girl thoughtfully. "The khaki cult is full of silly jealousies and petty prejudices." "Exactly. It was a very ridiculous situation. Surely the man in khaki cannot pursue inquiries so secretly and delicately as the civilian. The Scotland Yard detective does not go about dressed in the uniform of an inspector. Therefore, why should an Intelligence officer put on red-tabs in order to make himself conspicuous? No, dearest," he went on; "I quite agree with the doctor that the officials whose duty it is to look after spies have not taken sufficient advantage of patriotic civilians who are ready to assist them." "Why don't you help them, Jack?" suggested the girl. "You assisted Dr Jerrold, and you know a great deal regarding spies and their methods. Yet you are always so awfully mysterious about them." "Am I, darling?" he laughed, carrying her hand tenderly to his lips and kissing it fondly. "Yes, you are," she protested quickly. "Do tell me one thing--answer me one question, Jack. Have you any suspicion in one single case?--I mean do you really know a spy?" Jack hesitated. He drew a long breath, as again across his troubled mind flashed that thought which had so constantly obsessed him ever since that afternoon before Jerome Jerrold had died so mysteriously. "Yes, Elise," he answered in a thick voice. "Yes, I do." CHAPTER ELEVEN. THE ENEMY'S CIPHER. The afternoon of December 16th, 1914--the 135th day of the war--was grey and gloomy in Northumberland Avenue, that short thoroughfare of high uniform hotels and buildings. The street-lamps had just been lit around Trafalgar Square when Lewin Rodwell passed out of the big hall of the Constitutional Club, and down the steps into the street. At the moment a newsboy dashed past crying the evening papers. The words that fell upon Rodwell's ear caused him to start; and, stopping the lad, he purchased a paper, and, halting, read the bold, startling headlines: "Bombardment of the East Coast this morning: Great destruction of seaside towns." "Ach!" he murmured with a grin of satisfaction. "Ach! Number 70 was not slow in acting upon my message. Instead of the German Fleet falling into the trap, they have taught these pigs of English a lesson. Not long ago one Minister declared that if the German Fleet did not come out of the Kiel Canal, that the brave British would dig them like rats out of a hole. Good! They have come out to respond to that challenge," and he laughed in grim satisfaction. "Let's see what they've done." Turning upon his heel, in his eagerness to learn the truth, he reascended the broad steps of the Club, and in the hall seated himself and eagerly devoured the account which, at that moment, was thrilling the whole country.