The Kingdom of the BlindOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Kingdom of the Blind
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Fiction; Spy stories
“No luck, sir,” he announced. “I spent the whole of last night at it,
too--never went to bed at all. I’ve tried it with thirty-one codes. Then
I’ve taken the first line or two and tried every possible change.”
“I couldn’t make anything of it myself,” Thomson confessed, looking at
the sheet of paper which even at that moment was spread out before him.
“All the same, Ambrose, I don’t believe in it.”
“Neither do I, sir.” The other assented eagerly. “I am going to have
another try this afternoon. Perhaps there’ll be some more letters in
then and we can tell whether there’s any similarity.”
Thomson frowned.
“I’ve a sort of feeling, Ambrose,” he said, “that we sha’n’t have many
of these letters.”
“Why not, sir?”
“I heard by telephone, just before you came,” Thomson announced, “that
a certain very distinguished person was on his way to see me. Cabinet
Ministers don’t come here for nothing, and this one happens to be a
friend of Sir Alfred’s.”
Ambrose sighed.
“More interference, sir,” he groaned. “I don’t see how they can expect
us to run our department with the civilians butting in wherever they
like. They want us to save the country and they’re to have the credit
for it.”
There was a knock at the door. A boy scout entered. His eyes were a
little protuberant, his manner betokened awe.
“Mr. Gordon Jones, sir!”
Mr. Gordon Jones entered without waiting for any further announcement.
Thomson rose to his feet and received a genial handshake, after which
the newcomer glanced at Ambrose. Thomson signed to his assistant to
leave the room.
“Major Thomson,” the Cabinet Minister began impressively, as he settled
down in his chair, “I have come here to confer with you, to throw
myself, to a certain extent, upon your understanding and your common
sense,” he added, speaking with the pleased air of a man sure of his
ground and himself.
“You have come to protest, I suppose,” Thomson said slowly, “against our
having--”
“To protest against nothing, my dear sir,” the other interrupted.
“Simply to explain to you, as I have just explained to your Chief, that
while we possess every sympathy with, and desire to give every latitude
in the world to the military point of view, there are just one or two
very small matters in which we must claim to have a voice. We have, as
you know, a free censorship list. We have put no one upon it who is not
far and away above all suspicion. I am given to understand that a letter
addressed to Sir Alfred Anselman was opened yesterday. I went to see
your Chief about it this morning. He has referred me to you.”
“The letter,” Thomson remarked, “was opened by my orders.”
“I happened,” Mr. Gordon Jones went on, “to be dining at Sir Alfred’s
house when the letter was presented. Sir Alfred, I must say, took it
exceedingly well. At the same time, I have made it my business to see
that this does not occur again.”
Thomson made no sign. His eyebrows, however, rose a little higher.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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