In the Secret Service By Robert Buckley

EPISODE I. — OUTWITTING A DIPLOMATIC THIEF.

I NEED not tell you how I came to know my friend Anthony Hallam, of the Secret Service, nor need I at present relate the remarkable circumstances which led him to honour me with his confidence. That may come later, but for the present I will content myself with a personal description of him as he appeared last evening. I say advisedly "as he appeared last evening," for goodness only knows what he is like at the present moment; the chances are that if I met him in the street I should not recognize him in the least. Well, then, last evening he appeared to be a tall, active, humorous, and refined gentlemanly man of fifty or thereabouts, whose prevailing passion was navy-cut tobacco smoked in a cherrywood pipe, and whose hobby was practical gardening of the cabbage and celery type. His conversation for the most part related to this topic, with an undercurrent of sadness concerning the severity of the weather, and its probable effect on vegetation. In the easy-going man who lolled in my easiest chair, with his slippered feet on the fender, the casual looker-in would never have dreamed he saw one of the keenest spies in Europe; one acquainted with nearly every foreign capital; an extensive traveller in remote regions; an infallible judge of men's motives, and one, moreover, deeply versed in the tortuous methods of diplomacy, and the repositary of secrets, which, if widely known, might change the map of Europe. Add to this that he is a phenomenal linguist, and that he has since 1874 occupied an important post in connection with the Secret Service Department instituted in that year, and you have at least an elementary portrait of him, mental and physical, as he appeared to me last evening. We had discussed his favourite topic for some time when conversation turned on the war, and the extraordinary cunning of the Boer character.

       "And yet the Boers can be outwitted," he said, smiling as though at some pleasant recollection; while he blew a long column of smoke towards the ceiling.

       I should like to hear the story," I said, "that is, if it can be told without indiscretion."

       "Well, since the war is now in progress, there can be no objection to publicity in this particular instance. You are perhaps aware that for some time England had been overrun with Boer agents?"

       "Spies, I suppose?"

       "Spies or agents, call them what you will. A very able and absolutely unscrupulous body, lavishly supplied with money, and sticking at nothing to discover the movements and intentions of the British Government."

       "I should have thought their task hopeless and impossible."

       "Many things which seem impossible at first sight are feasible enough when ably, resolutely, and systematically undertaken with unlimited money behind the operations. However, I will relate one of my simple adventures, and leave you to form your own judgment. But first let me fill my pipe and take a long pull of the nectar." You would hardly believe it, but Hallam spends his evenings with a large cup of cold tea at his elbow. No intoxicants ever pass his lips except in special cases of emergency.

       Having indulged in his favourite luxury, he once more lay back in the chair, and commenced:—

       "I was trimming the hedge round my arbour when a breathless messenger disturbed me with a request that I would report myself at the Foreign Office without a moment's delay. This was about mid-day in the first week of August, 1899, when, as you will remember, we were getting into a tangle with Kruger. A cab was in waiting, and I accompanied the messenger to the railway station, and thence to town, where I was at once shown into the presence of — shall we say — the Minister?"

       I signified assent. Hallam has an aversion to mentioning names, when Great Personages are concerned.

       "The Minister was evidently in a state of considerable agitation, and I divined that the matter was serious. After the usual courtesies he said:

       "'A document of the first importance has been stolen from the Foreign Office. We need not go into the particulars surrounding its disappearance, since there can be little doubt as to its destination and its present whereabouts. Like all other Englishmen you are aware of the Transvaal complication? Quite so. You are also aware that a certain Legation not only favours the Boer cause, but that there is grave reason to believe that secret communications between that Legation and the Transvaal take place, and that certain attachés use their best endeavours to worm out any information as to our opinions and probable future action, with the abject of transmitting it to the Transvaal Government, the Legation in question thus practically utilizing its footing of friendship to assist our enemies against us?'

       "I was well aware of all this, and also of the difficulty experienced in dealing with the matter, the treachery being almost impossible of proof, while at the same time practically beyond doubt.

       "'Now,' continued the Minister, 'as the result of the gravest deliberations, a document of highly confidential character has been drafted and turned into cipher for transmission to — an important functionary — and that document with the despatch-box which contained it has disappeared. The details are not unusual; a trusted and well-tried subordinate, a moment’s distraction, and — the loss, which, I may say, involves to us disadvantages of the gravest character. Now, the problem is to recover the document without in any way hinting the connivance or complicity of the Legation to which I have made reference. Any open scandal would be liable to bring about the most deplorable results.'

       "But," said I, "if they have possessed themselves of the contents of the document —–"

       "'It is in cipher, and there, of course, is our only hope. You remember Hendricks?'

       "I remembered Hendricks very well. Once a highly trusted subordinate, he had been dismissed on my suggestion just six months before. Though born in England he was of Dutch extraction, and certain political movements in the Transvaal had coincided so, miraculously with information he might have transmitted through Boer agents in London that only one reasonable inference could be drawn. Yes, I remembered Hendricks."

       "'It has occurred to me,' said the Minister, 'that Hendricks might have mastered the cipher now in use. Indeed I am confident of it. Slight circumstances, hardly noticed at the time, but now recalled to mind, have convinced me. Of course, I am aware that with time and perseverance any cipher can be solved, but our secret antagonists have perhaps a shorter way than that of scientific investigation.'

       "Here I rose from my seat. I saw it all. Fortunately, I had kept my eye on Hendricks, who was living at The Hague, of all places in the world! I need hardly say that I had correspondents there, as well as in every other European capital. The thing was simple as the alphabet; the discharged official, his Dutch extraction, his retirement to The Hague, and last but not least, his intimate connection with a certain personage of the Legation in question whom we will call Broecker, and who was doubtless the instigator of the theft. Clearly, the best chance was to watch Broecker and without a moment's loss of time.

       "'When did the document disappear?' I asked.

       "'This morning at nine.'

       "I made as though to request leave to retire; the Minister said: "You clearly understand; no scandal; no force; nothing that will put us in the wrong, and yet — we must have the document before its contents are known.'

       "I bowed, and retired. In less than an hour I had not only set a special watch on Herr Broecker, but also had ascertained that he was leaving England that evening. Bah! the thing was child's play — so far. But we have not yet recovered the document.

       "You would have been amused if you had recognized me at the Liverpool Street station at seven o'clock that evening. My handbag bore a neat label, which read thus:—

REV. CORBETT JONES, Passenger to HARWICH.

       "I flatter myself that I was perfectly 'got up,' and also that I looked the part to perfection. My card, a written one such as the county clergy sometimes use, gave, in addition to my name, the interesting information that I was vicar of 'Bryn-y-bia, Carnarvonshire.' I was accompanied by my daughter Lucy. Ha! Ha! You smile."

       I always smiled when "Lucy" came on the scene. A young fellow named Henry Morland, with a perfect genius for women's parts, represented the charming daughter of the Rev. Corbett Jones, or indeed, of anyone else for whom Hallam chose to pass for the time being. Besides his remarkably feminine appearance, Morland was the possessor of a singularly bright intelligence, and was prompt and resolute in action. I had often met with "Lucy," and had noted with interest his implicit confidence in Hallam, of whom he always spoke as "the Pater."

       "Well," continued Hallam, "I had sent on Upton by the 5.30 with certain instructions which might or might not enable us to pull off a victory. You must clearly understand that to my mind the whole difficulty lay in the necessity of working the thing privately, and getting back the stolen papers without giving producible evidence on which to base a complaint."

       "There was also the risk that you might give the offence and yet not secure the document?" I suggested.

       "Precisely. It was a ticklish business, difficult on account of its delicacy. Put a finger on Broecker, who was, of course, above suspicion (the biggest rogues are always above suspicion, and the fact enables them to make better hauls), and his Legation would be insulted; his country would be outraged; and there would be a regular flare-up.

       "To return. I sent Upton on to Colchester with instructions to walk to a point well known to him, where a long, straight stretch of railway near Ardleigh would enable him with a field-glass to watch the Continental express for two or three miles at least The signals were soon arranged. Newspapers were to be flown from the carriage windows, and, in short, details which excluded any possibility of misunderstanding were agreed upon. What I like in Upton is this: you never have to repeat an instruction. On the contrary, he divines what you are going to say before you can get it out.

       "My plans were based on the idea that Broecker had the document, and that he would hurry over to Holland to submit its cipher to Hendricks, who might await him at the Hook. I knew that once Broecker touched Dutch soil my task would be doubly difficult, and might easily become insuperable. The problem, therefore, was how to secure the paper before left it England, or, failing that, to effect its capture on the boat, the last being almost out of the question by reason of the inaccessibility of a private cabin. Yes, it must be done on English ground, and the railway journey commended itself, as affording the best chance. As you know, the Great Eastern Boat Trains run the whole eighty miles between London and Parkeston Quay, a few miles beyond Harwich, without stopping, and you will understand that though I had sent Upton on to Colchester, about fifty miles, with a fixed and definite plan, there was the chance that Broecker might be going in some other direction, and you can imagine my delight when, after hours of patient waiting, I was informed that he had started for Liverpool Street. We were there on his heels, and after two words and two half-crowns the guard of the express was my own. One has to provide for unforeseen contingencies and the guard is always worth considering.

       "The excellent Broecker entered a first-class carriage, and soon after I and my daughter, 'Lucy,' with a small handbag and a lavish allowance of newspapers and other literature (our luggage, of course, being in the van) took our seats in the same compartment. You should have seen my smug and well-shaven visage! I was the ideal man for a 'curé of souls.'" And Hallam laughed heartily at the recollection.

       And truly his power of facial expression is such that, without the least distortion, he can instantaneously change his appearance, so as to be quite unrecognizable, even by his intimate friends.

       "Away we went, 'Lucy' neatly dressed, as beseemed the daughter of a poor parson, and keeping on her veil while intently reading the Times. We three; no others — unless you count a handbag, which to me was more interesting than any possible society. It was Broecker's, and, mark you, I was expecting it. The fact that he kept it on the arm-rest of his seat and leaned his elbow on it was eminently gratifying.

       "In that bag was the Document; I could have staked my life upon it. But how to get it from, a trusted and respected Attaché of the Legation of a Power with which we were on the most friendly terms? Anyone who knows the touchiness of such officials will see the extreme delicacy of the situation. I had the Minister to consider, and his imperative order that no offence should be given or even suspected. Yet as I sat there, I felt that to knock the rascal on the head would have been to me a source of unmeasured delight. Such is the effect of patriotism. The confounded thief! For though he had the rank of a gentleman, Broecker was really nothing better; and when I thought of the injury he was trying to do my country, and of the diabolical cunning with which he had carried out his plans, I felt a strong and most unprofessional inclination to land him one between the eyes, and settle the matter off-hand. Yet, after all, I had a sort of respect for him as a man of ability, and one likely to be heard of in future, for to all appearance he was much under forty, though rendering such valuable services to England's enemies, services which might possibly be splendidly rewarded if the Kruger Government became paramount, and the British Lion were compelled to turn tail in South Africa.

       "He showed no disposition to talk, nor did he seem likely to relax the pressure of his elbow on the bag. A very superior sort of individual, to all appearance, and one whose general aspect would be likely to prepossess the ordinary observer in his favour. I put on a pair of spectacles and read for the first half-hour, taking care not to let my glance fall on Broecker's bag, and keeping my own on the seat between me and 'Lucy,' where he could read the label with ease. Now and then I went over to 'Lucy,' and once produced from my bag a bottle of medicine and! a glass, for you will regret to learn that my beloved daughter was something of an invalid!"

       Here we laughed once more, and Hallam took a few sips of his "nectar."

       "Nerves, my dear fellow, nothing but nerves; yet nerves, you know, sometimes lead to the most distressing consequences. It was quite clear that my daughter was excessively nervous, perhaps a little hysterical, and, therefore, as any well-informed person will tell you, liable to uncontrollable impulses. We had not gone ten miles when 'Lucy' fluttered half a Standard out of the window, the object being, of course, to accustom our friend to the eccentricity, so that it might pass unsuspected when flown later for the benefit of Upton, who about this time was on the qui vive, fifty miles in front of us.

       "Having so far sat nearly opposite our friend apparently without noticing him, I now, after many attempts to write in a pocket-book with a pointless pencil, addressed Herr Broecker (to whom, in any character, I was a stranger, while I had the advantage of having known him and many of his tricks for something over five years — in fact, since the new state of things induced by the Raid) — I now requested the loan of a pen-knife, which was conceded, and conversation of a light and topical order at once ensued. I was anxious to hear all I could about fishing in the rivers Stour and Colne, and took a deep interest in the Colchester oyster beds. My esteemed friend had little or no information on those subjects, but he did his best, speaking with the slight accent of the Dutch, the least perceptible of all the foreign accents. Suddenly 'Lucy' gave a series of shrieks, which caused a painful interruption. We were nearing Colchester, and the dear child doubtless impatient of confinement, was seized with one of her distressing attacks; so painful to an affectionate father!"

       Hallam is an excellent laugher, and I must say that I am in favour of trusting a man whose laugh is hearty and contagious.

       "She soon came round, and looked apologetically towards Broecker, as though thoroughly ashamed of her outbreak. We rushed through Colchester Station, and the willows on the banks of the Colne marking the situation at which we had arrived told me it was now or never. 'Lucy' once more let down the window and prepared the signal newspapers; I, turning towards the opposite window with an expression of great distress, attracted Broecker's attention in the same direction, while I expressed my profound regret that my dear daughter's illness had caused him inconvenience. As I uttered the words I turned partially round towards 'Lucy,' who was busily engaged in throwing her magazines out of the window in the most unaccountable way. With a gesture of despair I indicated this ridiculous conduct to Broecker, who in order to catch my words, had to lean forward, half-turning his back on 'Lucy,' whose moment was at hand.

       "'Uncontrollable impulses of hysteria,' I said, bending forward to make my low tones heard through the roar of the rushing train. Broecker leaned further towards me; his weight was no longer on the hand-bag. 'Her poor mother,' I continued, 'was very much — Ha—–!!!' "Lucy had snatched the bag and thrown it through the window! Broecker sprang to his foot with an exclamation of rage, and even raised his hand to strike my poor afflicted child! I intervened, holding him back, while 'Lucy,' seemingly unconscious, poor girl, of the deplorable incorrectness of her conduct, was flying another newspaper through the window, a Telegraph which she let go in order that Upton, who after the first flutter would be able to fix the compartment, might know that the coup had really come off, even though he might miss the package. An open newspaper flying about is a very conspicuous object, and the fact of the one being dropped being a Telegraph was to assure him that the bag would be found somewhere on the line, and that search would be rewarded. However, Upton had no difficulty of the kind; there was a good light, and the bag dropped within twenty yards of him, 'Lucy' having seen him distinctly a few seconds before the final stroke.

       "It would be impossible to describe the conduct of Broecker, who quite lost his head. Notwithstanding my regrets, and assurances that by wiring to Colchester from Harwich he would recover the bag with ease, and that in the improbable event of its being lost he might look to the Rev. Corbett Jones, of Bryn-y-bia, Carnarvonshire, for adequate compensation, he would not be comforted. I was almost offended when he refused with an oath (in Dutch) my private card, offered as a security, and, worst of all manifested an entire lack of sympathy, with my poor, dear 'Lucy's' hysteria. But, as a clergyman, you understand, I bore all with exemplary meekness, and carried forgiveness so far as to accompany him to the telegraph office at Harwich, whence he wired not only to Colchester railway station but also to the police station, offering a hundred pounds reward if anyone were arrested having in their possession such a bag as he described.

       "But all this had been foreseen, and Upton, carrying out all his instructions, had taken train from Manningtree Junction to Ipswich, and thence to London, where he had the distinguished honour not only of handing the bag, with the lost document, to the Minister, but also its remaining contents, the value of which, from a political point of view, were considerable. I need not trouble you with further detail. Herr Broecker spent two days in Colchester without result, though he perhaps learned enough to open his eyes as to the true nature of 'Lucy's' 'hysteria' and 'uncontrollable impulse.' However there was no evidence in existence, nor was suspicion aroused before the Welsh vicar and his afflicted daughter disappeared."

       "Will you tell me what you meant when in the early part of the story you said you were expecting the handbag?" I enquired.

       "Now you are touching on the inner mysteries of the Service," laughed Hallam, gaily. "But I may, perhaps, partially satisfy your natural curiosity. You will understand that we have thought it advisable to know all we can of the movements of the excellent Herr in question. Well, so it happens that he had a valet, a countryman of his own, whose sympathies were with —–"

       "British gold," I ventured to put in.

       "And," continued Hallam, ignoring the interruption, "this patriotic valet was in almost hourly communication with our department, and he taught us a good deal, though on this occasion he knew nothing beyond the fact that the bag, which he described, had been kept all day in his master's safe. Of course, the original despatch-box had been broken open and destroyed, and the papers were much too bulky to be carried in the pocket. The thing was easy enough, bar the difficulty of avoiding scandal. The obtaining of plans of the fortifications and armament of Pretoria was more difficult. But there — it's eleven o'clock, and I must defer that story until to-morrow evening."

       And Mr. Hallam, who lives next door, opened the French window, and stepping into my garden, passed through the little wicket that leads to his own domain. We gave up paying visits by the front door nearly seven years ago. And thereby hangs another tale.

(THE END)