A Message in Cipher . . .
By John Scholfield.

"YOU will deliver this packet into the hands of the Japanese ambassador, London, without a moment's unnecessary delay," said Sir Jasper Hale to Harold Malvern, an attaché to the British embassy, Paris. "You are to cross from Calais, but do not entrain at Paris. Drive, walk, or ride to one of the outlying suburbs, and entrain there. Return with the answer as soon as you can, and be prepared to start tonight."

      So saying, Sir Jasper handed Malvern a small packet, and dismissed him.

      Hurriedly bidding his man pack up his valise, the young attaché descended to the drawing room, where a few guests were assembled, among them being the beautiful daughter of Paul Ivanovitch, chief secretary to the Russian embassy. Malvern at once approached her, for he had formed a great liking for the lovely girl.

      "Ah," said the girl, immediately brightening as he approached. "I have not seen you for some time. Doubtless you have been busy, and have been unable to call?"

      "War has far reaching influences," he returned, with a bright smile, "and even touches a humble attaché like myself. War is doubly cruel when the demands it makes upon my time keep rue from you," he added, in a whisper.

      "You English have not lost the art of paying pretty compliments," returned Vera Ivanovitch, with an appreciative little laugh.

      At this moment two Russians entered the room, and, after greeting their hostess, came towards Vera and Malvern. The girl shrank back almost imperceptibly, and a half frightened look showed momentarily in her face.

      Malvern at once noticed it, and wondered at the cause. The next moment the two Russians had exchanged greetings with Vera herself. The younger he immediately identified as a rich and well known St. Petersburg man of fashion, who moved in the best of diplomatic circles, but whose record was not altogether an enviable one. No one knew how he became possessed of his money. It was he from whom Vera had shrunk on seeing him approach

      His companion Malvern did not remember having seen her before. Exactly why Malvern couldn't tell, but he was suddenly seized with a sort of premonition of mischief.

      He endeavored to attract Vera's attention by every conceivable means, but no, she would not meet his gaze. What power had the handsome young Russian over her?

      "O, by the way, Mr. Malvern," she said presently — as the attaché thought, with assumed indifference —" you recollect I wanted you to read my mother's poems? I have brought the book with me and have marked my favorites."

      "Thank you," he said; "it's good of you. I will take every care of the book," and he commenced turning over the leaves, pausing at certain pages which Vera had marked.

      As he read he suddenly noticed that some of the letters had a tiny dot, no bigger than a pins head, penciled over the top. He paused for a moment, vaguely wondering if there were any hidden meaning in those mystic dots.

      What did those dots over the letters mean? Did they come by accident or design? Was Vera endeavoring to convey to him a silent message? His attention became riveted on them. He began slowly to read:

"Ḃy pėrfumed meadows and purling streams, The ċows ȧṙė browsing lazily; Ḟar off the sou̇nd of joyful̇ song ——

      Then he stopped. With a quick flash of intuition he singled out the dotted letters. There was b-e-c-a-r-e-f-u-l all dotted. In a moment he had it. "Be careful!" These were words that startled him. It was indeed a message from Vera — a message of warning. God bless her! She was as loyal and as true as steel. Other letters were dotted over the leaf, but Just as he was about to try to decipher the rest his hostess led the way to dinner, and, offering his arm to Vera, he followed the others into the drawing room.

      Save for a gentle pressure on his arm the girl gave no indication of any message or sign, so Malvern merely returned the pressure.

      He well knew that Russia was the center of plot and counterplot, and that her secret service was manipulated by some of the cleverest, most astute and ingenious scoundrels in the world.

      With such thoughts crowding in on him, and with a sense of insecurity and mystery surrounding the whole business, it is not surprising that the young attaché was silent and prepossessed at dinner, though he did his level best to appear cheerful and at ease.

      Immediately the ladies had withdrawn Malvern at once sought his room, locked the door, and feverishly perused the book of poems, which he had put into his pocket, and searched for further revelations.

      "Be careful," he spelt out again and again; and scattered about the pages were other dotted words, which, when deciphered, read: "You are being watched. Be on your guard against the two."

      That was all; but it was enough to quicken his pulses, and set him throbbing with excitement.

      Was Vera acquainted with his forthcoming visit to England with the dispatches? That was a question he asked himself repeatedly, but found no satisfactory solution Well, he had received a warning, and hoped to profit by it. He would start on his mission without an instant's delay. For greater security he placed the dispatches, firmly fastened, under his shirt.

      Without waiting to change into tweeds, he put on an overcoat and a cap.

      He chartered a closed cab, and, so as not to excite any suspicion, told the driver to proceed slowly to an outlying suburb, whence he intended to entrain for Calais. He had been driving for about three-quarters of an hour, when the sound of a sharp but distinct teuf! teuf! caught his ear, and set him all agog.

      Were these Russians — "the two" to whom Vera's cipher had evidently referred — in pursuit? The motor rapidly approached, and was evidently whirring along at terrific speed. As security against possible accident the driver stopped well to the left of the road and watched for the motor to pass. In another moment the motor was on them, and whether by accident or design Malvern could never determine, but just as the car whizzed past, the back left wheel caught the right front wheel of the carriage. There was a sharp wrench and a jerk, and the front of the cab was a complete wreck.

      Heedless of the driver's cries and curses, Malvern sprang out, flung him his fare, and started to run after the motor at topmost speed, for he thought he had caught a glimpse of a huddled female form in the car as it flashed by; and he also fancied he recognized both the Russians. He ran on until almost exhausted, following the trail of the car on the muddy road as best he could, until the wheel marks turned of into a narrow drive which terminated in a small house.

      He cautiously entered the drive, stepped quietly on the grass, then made for some bushes, and, pushing them aside, stood, half concealed, looking at the only lighted window to be seen. The front door was left open. The car had been left near the gate for sudden emergency. As he looked at the lighted window he suddenly became aware that a woman was peering out into the darkness, and that the woman was Vera Ivanovitch.

      Cautiously he stepped from his place of concealment and endeavored to attract the attention of Vera. At last she both saw and recognized him. Quietly she opened the window and let down a "rope" made from a couple of rugs which she had securely fastened inside. Then, with desperate pluck, the brave girl swung over the sill, caught on to the rugs, and scrambled down to Malvern, who caught her as she fell the last few feet.

      "Quick!" she whispered. "The car!"

      She half dragged him to the motor, into which they both leaped. It was the work of a moment to start it, but no sooner had Malvern done so than two men — the Russians — ran out of the house. Two bullets whizzed harmlessly past the car, and in another moment Malvern and his precious charge were tearing back toward Paris, safe from pursuit. The young attaché safely delivered the dispatches.

      And that's how it was that Malvern got promoted in the diplomatic service and married Vera Ivanovitch.

      Vera had known that the two Russians were in the secret service and were watching the young attaché. It was she who had endeavored to warn Malvern with her secret cipher, and so had practically saved the situation. On pretense of driving her home after the dinner, they had kidnaped her in order to make her reveal anything she might know of the young attaché's movements, for they suspected that she was in league with Malvern.

      They intended keeping her a prisoner in the house, under the strict surveillance of two female custodians, until her father had offered a sum of money for her release. Both were ultimately captured and banished; and so two dangerous men were routed from further injury to the interests of England and Japan.

(THE END)