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Authors: Alexander Wilson
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office first, and order them to give us a clear line.’ He looked at the ormolu clock ticking on the mantelpiece. ‘He’ll be at home now, I should imagine, but get him wherever he is.’
Maddison crossed to the desk, and set to work to get the necessary connection. Sir Leonard thoughtfully filled and lit his pipe. Certain words spoken softly into the instrument set the telephone service working at lightning speed, and in three minutes the call was through. The Foreign Secretary proved to be at home, and Maddison handed the receiver to his chief.
‘That you, Wallace?’ came the Minister’s agitated voice.
‘Thank God!’
Sir Leonard quickly repeated to him what he had been told by Maddison.
‘Is there anything else?’ he concluded.
‘No; except that the Italian Ambassador has been to see me once, and telephoned three times. Apparently the Embassy is receiving frantic telegrams from Italy every half hour.’
‘I don’t wonder,’ commented Wallace coolly. ‘There was bound to be a spot of bother.’
‘Spot of bother!’ gasped the excited statesman at the other end. ‘Don’t you realise the serious nature of the affair?’
‘Of course I do, but what’s the use of getting agitated.’
‘What are you going to do about it? You’d better come up to London at once; we’ll talk it over and see what can be done.’
‘There’s nothing to talk over,’ objected Wallace. ‘I know all there is to be known apparently, and it would be only a waste of time coming to Town. I’ve decided to go to Gibraltar myself.’
There was a distinct sigh of relief.
‘When do you propose to leave?’
‘Tonight. Will you get in touch with the Air Ministry, and ask them to order Calshot to put a flying-boat at my disposal?’
‘Certainly. But do you really intend to fly at night?’
‘Yes. Why not? It’s going to be an ideal night for flying. A harvest moon and all the rest of it should make it a glorious trip. I’ll be at Calshot just after ten and, if all goes well should be in Gib tomorrow morning somewhere between eight and nine.’
‘Splendid. You’ve relieved my mind tremendously.’
‘Please get on to the Air Ministry at once.’
‘Very well. You can rely upon me. Good luck, Wallace.’
Sir Leonard put down the receiver, and smiled at Maddison.
‘You are quite right,’ he remarked. ‘The Foreign Secretary is certainly in a stew.’
After dinner Maddison returned to London and, soon after his departure, Sir Leonard took leave of Molly and, accompanied by his manservant, Batty, was driven to the Royal Air Force station at Calshot. It was a beautiful night, as he had predicted, making the countryside look even more fascinating than by day, especially at Beaulieu, where the ruins of the famous Abbey had assumed a witchery never theirs by daylight.
A wing commander met him, and introduced him to the two young flight-lieutenants who had been told to pilot him. He was informed that there had been a certain amount of difficultyin getting the flying-boat ready in time, as, when the message came through, work had ceased for the day, and most of the men had gone to Southampton or Portsmouth for their evening’s amusement. However, with the keenness for which the Air Force is noted, those remaining on duty had set to work, with the result that the boat was then at the slips ready for her long flight.
The two pilots were as keen as mustard on the trip. Though naturally they knew nothing of Sir Leonard’s object in going to Gibraltar, they sensed mystery, and were rather thrilled at being called upon to convey the Chief of the Intelligence Department to the Rock. A certain amount of discussion took place regarding the route, but Wallace left it entirely to their discretion, and it was decided to go by way of Ushant, Cape Ortegal, Finisterre, down the coast of Portugal, and round by Cape St Vincent to Gibraltar.
Batty had already stowed the scanty baggage on board, and stood by listening critically to
Maddison crossed to the desk, and set to work to get the necessary connection. Sir Leonard thoughtfully filled and lit his pipe. Certain words spoken softly into the instrument set the telephone service working at lightning speed, and in three minutes the call was through. The Foreign Secretary proved to be at home, and Maddison handed the receiver to his chief.
‘That you, Wallace?’ came the Minister’s agitated voice.
‘Thank God!’
Sir Leonard quickly repeated to him what he had been told by Maddison.
‘Is there anything else?’ he concluded.
‘No; except that the Italian Ambassador has been to see me once, and telephoned three times. Apparently the Embassy is receiving frantic telegrams from Italy every half hour.’
‘I don’t wonder,’ commented Wallace coolly. ‘There was bound to be a spot of bother.’
‘Spot of bother!’ gasped the excited statesman at the other end. ‘Don’t you realise the serious nature of the affair?’
‘Of course I do, but what’s the use of getting agitated.’
‘What are you going to do about it? You’d better come up to London at once; we’ll talk it over and see what can be done.’
‘There’s nothing to talk over,’ objected Wallace. ‘I know all there is to be known apparently, and it would be only a waste of time coming to Town. I’ve decided to go to Gibraltar myself.’
There was a distinct sigh of relief.
‘When do you propose to leave?’
‘Tonight. Will you get in touch with the Air Ministry, and ask them to order Calshot to put a flying-boat at my disposal?’
‘Certainly. But do you really intend to fly at night?’
‘Yes. Why not? It’s going to be an ideal night for flying. A harvest moon and all the rest of it should make it a glorious trip. I’ll be at Calshot just after ten and, if all goes well should be in Gib tomorrow morning somewhere between eight and nine.’
‘Splendid. You’ve relieved my mind tremendously.’
‘Please get on to the Air Ministry at once.’
‘Very well. You can rely upon me. Good luck, Wallace.’
Sir Leonard put down the receiver, and smiled at Maddison.
‘You are quite right,’ he remarked. ‘The Foreign Secretary is certainly in a stew.’
After dinner Maddison returned to London and, soon after his departure, Sir Leonard took leave of Molly and, accompanied by his manservant, Batty, was driven to the Royal Air Force station at Calshot. It was a beautiful night, as he had predicted, making the countryside look even more fascinating than by day, especially at Beaulieu, where the ruins of the famous Abbey had assumed a witchery never theirs by daylight.
A wing commander met him, and introduced him to the two young flight-lieutenants who had been told to pilot him. He was informed that there had been a certain amount of difficultyin getting the flying-boat ready in time, as, when the message came through, work had ceased for the day, and most of the men had gone to Southampton or Portsmouth for their evening’s amusement. However, with the keenness for which the Air Force is noted, those remaining on duty had set to work, with the result that the boat was then at the slips ready for her long flight.
The two pilots were as keen as mustard on the trip. Though naturally they knew nothing of Sir Leonard’s object in going to Gibraltar, they sensed mystery, and were rather thrilled at being called upon to convey the Chief of the Intelligence Department to the Rock. A certain amount of discussion took place regarding the route, but Wallace left it entirely to their discretion, and it was decided to go by way of Ushant, Cape Ortegal, Finisterre, down the coast of Portugal, and round by Cape St Vincent to Gibraltar.
Batty had already stowed the scanty baggage on board, and stood by listening critically to
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