Sant of the Secret Service: Some Revelations of Spies and SpyingLe Queux, William
General
Sant of the Secret Service: Some Revelations of Spies and Spying
Le Queux, William
Spy stories; World War, 1914-1918 -- Secret service -- Fiction
But it was essential we should speak, and I had my plan cut and dried.
When Madame Gabrielle came in sight, I was startled to see the "Italian"
following her. Could his suspicions have been aroused, I wondered?
Hitherto Madame Gabrielle had been shadowing him; were the positions now
reversed? I noticed she looked pale and anxious; it was evident
something untoward had occurred.
Long before, we had taught ourselves to send messages in the Morse code
by finger movements, the raising or dropping of a finger representing
the dots and dashes of the code. Thus so long as we could see each
other's hands we could communicate rapidly and silently; failing direct
sight, we had only to tap out the message. Gabrielle seated herself
negligently on a seat and produced a book, which she read industriously,
quite unconscious to all seeming of the disreputable fruit-seller lying
asleep on the grass, his face shaded from the hot sun by his
broad-brimmed hat. The "Italian," in the meantime, had seated himself
on a seat a few yards away.
Whether he suspected me I do not know; probably not. But beneath the
brim of my hat I could see Madame Gabrielle's delicate hand and arm
flung carelessly across the back of the seat. Her fingers, screened
from the Italian's sight, rapidly ticked out their message.
"I got your note; it confirms what I have found out. The attempt is to
be made to-morrow night. Bruno has been talking with a dark,
sailor-looking man who, I think, must be Fontan. I overheard them from
the balcony outside their room. I suppose I must have made some sound,
for Bruno came out hurriedly on to the balcony. He looked as if he
could kill me, and ever since he has been following me. I dare not
attempt to follow him when he leaves the hotel this evening. The
arrangement may be a blind; you must watch him all you can. I will risk
everything to get a message to you if I hear any more, but I am afraid I
can do no good now."
"You have done very well," I signalled back. "Go to the hotel and get
on the 'phone to the British Consul. Tell him to recall Jeans by
wireless at once for instant action. I shall stake everything on
to-night. After that, go straight back to San Sebastian, and let it be
clearly known in the hotel that you are going. We must throw Bruno off
the scent."
Madame Gabrielle signified that she understood, and soon after got up
and moved listlessly away. She had no sooner turned the corner than the
"Italian" rose and followed her. Of me he took no notice whatever, and
apparently he had not the least suspicion that Madame Gabrielle and I
had been in communication.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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