He cursed himself for a fool, thrice a fool! Why had he not understood
long before? Why had he not seen that so many coincidences could not be
the result of chance? Only design and skill could have brought them
about! Who had disabled the automobile in that flight with Carstairs and
Wharton from the Germans? Who had sought to delay Lannes until he could
be caught by the enemy? Who was the mysterious man in the aeroplane who
had wounded Philip, who had led John from the chateau under the very
rifles of the waiting marksmen, and who had been responsible for Julie's
capture at Chastel? That letter, purporting to be from Philip, and
directing her to come to Chastel, was surely a forgery!
These and all the other details crashed upon him with cumulative force,
and he was so mad with fury that he thought his heart would burst with
the surging blood. Why had the man worked with such energy and such
cruel persistence against him? But his wonder quickly passed, because
the reason did not matter now. Instead he put his finger on the trigger
of the automatic and waited.
The wireless flashed and crackled for five minutes, then five minutes of
silence and the figure of Weber reappeared at the base of the tower. He
lingered there for a little space looking warily about him, before he
began the descent of the mountain, and John quietly withdrew further
into the pines.
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