What could it all mean? My master and his companion seemed on the most friendly terms with the spy.
Ten miles from the lodge-gates of Edgcott at a cross-road we picked up an ill-dressed man whom I recognised as the Baptist missionary, Richard Raven, and with the Honourable Bob at my side directing me we tore on through the night, traversing numberless by-roads, until at dawn I suddenly recognised that we were on the North Road, close to Codicote.
A quarter of an hour later we had run the car round to the rear of Shand's pretty rose-embowered cottage, and all descended.
I made excuse to the Honourable Bob that the screw top of the radiator was missing, whereupon von Rausch laughed heartily, and picking up a piece of wire from the bench he bent it so as to form a hook, and with it fished down in the hot water inside.
His companions stood watching, but judge my surprise when I saw him of a sudden draw forth a small aluminium cylinder, the top of which he screwed off and from it took out a piece of tracing-linen tightly folded.
This he spread out, and my quick eyes saw that it was a carefully drawn tracing of a portion of the new type of battleship of the _Neptune_ class (the improved _Dreadnought_ type), with many marginal notes in German in a feminine hand.
In an instant the astounding truth became plain to me. The Baronne, who was in von Rausch's employ, had no doubt surreptitiously obtained the original from Mr. Henry Seymour's despatch-box, it having been sent down to him to Edgcott for his approval.
A most important British naval secret was, I saw, in the hands of the clever spies of the Kaiser!
I made no remark, for in presence of those men was I not helpless?
They took the tracing in the house, and for half an hour held carousal in celebration of their success.
Presently Brackenbury came forth to me and said:
"The Colonel is going to Harwich this evening, and you must drive him. The boat for the 'Hook' leaves at half-past ten, I think."
"Very well, sir," I replied, with apparent indifference. "I shall be quite ready."
At seven we started, von Rausch and I, and until darkness fell I drove eastward, when at last we found ourselves in Ipswich.
Suddenly, close to the White Horse Hotel and within hailing distance of a police-constable, I brought the car to a dead stop, and turning to the German, who was seated beside me, said in as quiet a tone as I could: