The Secret Adversary (Tommy & Tuppence 1)

CHAPTER XVI. FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOMMY

FROM a darkness punctuated with throbbing stabs of fire, Tommy draggedhis senses slowly back to life. When he at last opened his eyes, he wasconscious of nothing but an excruciating pain through his temples. Hewas vaguely aware of unfamiliar surroundings. Where was he? What hadhappened? He blinked feebly. This was not his bedroom at the _Ritz_. Andwhat the devil was the matter with his head?

“Damn!” said Tommy, and tried to sit up. He had remembered. He was inthat sinister house in Soho. He uttered a groan and fell back. Throughhis almost-closed lids he reconnoitred carefully.

“He is coming to,” remarked a voice very near Tommy’s ear. He recognizedit at once for that of the bearded and efficient German, and layartistically inert. He felt that it would be a pity to come round toosoon; and until the pain in his head became a little less acute, he feltquite incapable of collecting his wits. Painfully he tried to puzzle outwhat had happened. Obviously somebody must have crept up behind him ashe listened and struck him down with a blow on the head. They knewhim now for a spy, and would in all probability give him short shrift.Undoubtedly he was in a tight place. Nobody knew where he was, thereforehe need expect no outside assistance, and must depend solely on his ownwits.

“Well, here goes,” murmured Tommy to himself, and repeated his formerremark.

“Damn!” he observed, and this time succeeded in sitting up.

In a minute the German stepped forward and placed a glass to his lips,with the brief command “Drink.” Tommy obeyed. The potency of the draughtmade him choke, but it cleared his brain in a marvellous manner.

He was lying on a couch in the room in which the meeting had been held.On one side of him was the German, on the other the villainous-faceddoorkeeper who had let him in. The others were grouped together at alittle distance away. But Tommy missed one face. The man known as NumberOne was no longer of the company.

“Feel better?” asked the German, as he removed the empty glass.

“Yes, thanks,” returned Tommy cheerfully.

“Ah, my young friend, it is lucky for you your skull is so thick. Thegood Conrad struck hard.” He indicated the evil-faced doorkeeper by anod. The man grinned.

Tommy twisted his head round with an effort.

“Oh,” he said, “so you’re Conrad, are you? It strikes me the thicknessof my skull was lucky for you too. When I look at you I feel it’s almosta pity I’ve enabled you to cheat the hangman.”

The man snarled, and the bearded man said quietly:

“He would have run no risk of that.”

“Just as you like,” replied Tommy. “I know it’s the fashion to run downthe police. I rather believe in them myself.”

His manner was nonchalant to the last degree. Tommy Beresford was oneof those young Englishmen not distinguished by any special intellectualability, but who are emphatically at their best in what is known as a“tight place.” Their natural diffidence and caution fall from them likea glove. Tommy realized perfectly that in his own wits lay the onlychance of escape, and behind his casual manner he was racking his brainsfuriously.

The cold accents of the German took up the conversation:

“Have you anything to say before you are put to death as a spy?”

“Simply lots of things,” replied Tommy with the same urbanity as before.

“Do you deny that you were listening at that door?”

“I do not. I must really apologize--but your conversation was sointeresting that it overcame my scruples.”

“How did you get in?”

“Dear old Conrad here.” Tommy smiled deprecatingly at him. “I hesitateto suggest pensioning off a faithful servant, but you really ought tohave a better watchdog.”

Conrad snarled impotently, and said sullenly, as the man with the beardswung round upon him:

“He gave the word. How was I to know?”

“Yes,” Tommy chimed in. “How was he to know? Don’t blame the poorfellow. His hasty action has given me the pleasure of seeing you allface to face.”

He fancied that his words caused some discomposure among the group, butthe watchful German stilled it with a wave of his hand.

“Dead men tell no tales,” he said evenly.

“Ah,” said Tommy, “but I’m not dead yet!”

“You soon will be, my young friend,” said the German.

An assenting murmur came from the others.

Tommy’s heart beat faster, but his casual pleasantness did not waver.

“I think not,” he said firmly. “I should have a great objection todying.”

He had got them puzzled, he saw that by the look on his captor’s face.

“Can you give us any reason why we should not put you to death?” askedthe German.

“Several,” replied Tommy. “Look here, you’ve been asking me a lot ofquestions. Let me ask you one for a change. Why didn’t you kill me offat once before I regained consciousness?”

The German hesitated, and Tommy seized his advantage.

“Because you didn’t know how much I knew--and where I obtained thatknowledge. If you kill me now, you never will know.”

But here the emotions of Boris became too much for him. He steppedforward waving his arms.

“You hell-hound of a spy,” he screamed. “We will give you short shrift.Kill him! Kill him!”

There was a roar of applause.

“You hear?” said the German, his eyes on Tommy. “What have you to say tothat?”

“Say?” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Pack of fools. Let them askthemselves a few questions. How did I get into this place? Remember whatdear old Conrad said-- _with your own password_, wasn’t it? How did Iget hold of that? You don’t suppose I came up those steps haphazard andsaid the first thing that came into my head?”

Tommy was pleased with the concluding words of this speech. His onlyregret was that Tuppence was not present to appreciate its full flavour.

“That is true,” said the working man suddenly. “Comrades, we have beenbetrayed!”

An ugly murmur arose. Tommy smiled at them encouragingly.

“That’s better. How can you hope to make a success of any job if youdon’t use your brains?”

“You will tell us who has betrayed us,” said the German. “But that shallnot save you--oh, no! You shall tell us all that you know. Boris, here,knows pretty ways of making people speak!”

“Bah!” said Tommy scornfully, fighting down a singularly unpleasantfeeling in the pit of his stomach. “You will neither torture me nor killme.”

“And why not?” asked Boris.

“Because you’d kill the goose that lays the golden eggs,” replied Tommyquietly.

There was a momentary pause. It seemed as though Tommy’s persistentassurance was at last conquering. They were no longer completely sure ofthemselves. The man in the shabby clothes stared at Tommy searchingly.

“He’s bluffing you, Boris,” he said quietly.

Tommy hated him. Had the man seen through him?

The German, with an effort, turned roughly to Tommy.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?” parried Tommy, searching desperately in hisown mind.

Suddenly Boris stepped forward, and shook his fist in Tommy’s face.

“Speak, you swine of an Englishman--speak!”

“Don’t get so excited, my good fellow,” said Tommy calmly. “That’s theworst of you foreigners. You can’t keep calm. Now, I ask you, do I lookas though I thought there were the least chance of your killing me?”

He looked confidently round, and was glad they could not hear thepersistent beating of his heart which gave the lie to his words.

“No,” admitted Boris at last sullenly, “you do not.”

“Thank God, he’s not a mind reader,” thought Tommy. Aloud he pursued hisadvantage:

“And why am I so confident? Because I know something that puts me in aposition to propose a bargain.”

> “A bargain?” The bearded man took him up sharply.

“Yes--a bargain. My life and liberty against----” He paused.

“Against what?”