The stories vary only from their point of view. The
end of all is the same. It is this: unless the English government sends a
fast destroyer to Kiel before four o'clock to-morrow afternoon, the
Germans will command London before seven days have passed. And to the
best of my belief, Mr. Staunton, you are the only man who can save this
country."
"I will hear the story in a moment," Staunton said calmly. "First! You
have been to the government?"
"We have," Guest answered. "They decline to hear us, believe us, or
receive us. They scoff at our facts and ignore our warnings."
"You have some proofs?"
"We have almost convincing ones," Guest answered. "A further one almost
cost us our lives a few minutes ago! The restaurant where we were
deliberating was blown up by a bomb, placed there by some one who
suspected us."
"The name of the restaurant?" Staunton asked.
"The Cafe Suisse," I told him.
From his look of interest, I knew that he had heard something about the
place.
"Well," he said, "let me hear the stories."
Guest told his first, I followed, Adele told hers, and Monsieur Bardow
rapidly filled in certain blanks.
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