The gentleman from London passed into the stuffy little bedroom, drew aside the old damask curtain and took off the top of the big tailors' sewing-machine displaying the instruments beneath. Through the little window the grey, dispiriting light grew brighter as the dawn spread. The tide was out, and there was very little wind. The sea lay unusually calm in the morning mist. In the air was a salt smell of seaweed, and when he seated himself upon the old rush chair he could hear the low, monotonous lapping of the waves up and down the beach. That February morning was raw and chill upon the bleak, open coast of Lincolnshire, and while old Tom bustled about to get "Muster Rodwell" a slice of cooked bacon, the spy of the "All Highest of Germany" busied himself in looking through the intricate-looking array of cable instruments, the hidden batteries of which he had recharged a week ago, spending a whole night there working in his shirt-sleeves and perspiring freely. Presently, settling himself down to his work, he touched the ebonite tapping-key and in dot-and-dash he sent under the sea the letters "M.X.Q.Q.," the German war-code for "Are you ready to receive message?" Thrice he despatched the letters, and then awaited the answering click. There was no response. "Stendel is always so slow!" he growled to himself. Already the appetising smell of frying bacon had greeted his nostrils. Old Tom's daughter was away. Indeed, he kept her away as much as possible, as Mr Rodwell had no desire to have women "poking their noses into things that did not concern them"--as he once remarked. Thrice again did the man at the end of that unsuspected cable tap out those four code-letters. At last, however, came the answering sound upon the receiver. "B.S.Q.--B.S.Q.," came up rapidly from the depths of the sea. "Who are you?" Wangeroog was asking. "Rodwell is here," tapped out the spy. "Is Stendel there?" In a moment came the answer. "Yes. Stendel is speaking. I have a message for you." "Mine is most urgent. Please put me through at once to J.A.J.70." "Your signals are good. Cuxhaven is engaged with Copenhagen. Wait, and I will put you through. While waiting will you take my message?" "S.S.," answered Rodwell, which meant, "All right. I understand." Then he added "O.O.," by which the German operator on the island of Wangeroog knew that he was to proceed. After a few seconds' pause the recorder began to click, and upon its green receiving "tape" there came out the following: "J. Number 6834115. Berlin, February 21st, 1915. "_Ueber die zustaende_ 1828, 59361 _sind folgende Nachrichten_ 0083 _joasckcumf_ 2122: 298511, 3826, 3278: 2564: 8392 _schmutzig_: 6111: _sparsam: dannen: schiene_: 2568, _tbsxic zerreiben_. 3286 _zeilverlust_."