Desmond's heart leaped within him. Here was assistance close at hand. Mechanically he sought to raise his hand to open the window, but an agonising twinge reminded him of his thongs. He swiftly reviewed in his mind the means of attracting the attention of the soldier opposite. Whatever he was going to do, he must do quickly; for the fact that people were beginning to darken their windows showed that it must be close on half-past six, and about seven o'clock, Barling, after putting out Desmond's things, was accustomed to go out for the evening.
Should he shout? Should he try and break the window? Desmond rejected both these suggestions. While it was doubtful whether Barling would hear the noise or, if he heard it, connect it with Desmond, it was certain that Strangwise and Bellward would do both and be upon Desmond without a moment's delay.
Then Desmond's eye fell upon the electric candle which had slid to the very edge of the table. It was mounted in a heavy brass candle-stick and the switch was in the pedestal, jutting out over the edge of the table in the position in which the candle now stood. The candle was clear of the mirror and there was nothing between it and the window. Desmond's brain took all this in at a glance. That glance showed him that Providence was being good to him.
A couple of jerks of the chair brought him alongside the table.
Its edge was practically level with the arms of the chair so that, by getting into the right position, he was able to manipulate the switch with his fingers. And then, thanking God and the Army Council for the recent signalling course he had attended, he depressed the switch with a quick, snapping movement and jerked it up again, sending out the dots and dashes of the Morse code.
"B-A-R-L-I-N-G" he spelt out, slowly and laboriously, it is true;for he was not an expert.
As he worked the switch, he looked across at the illuminated window of the room in which Barling stood, with bent head, earnestly engaged upon his polishing.
"B-a-r-l-i-n-g-ack-ack-ack-B-a-r-l-i-n-g-ack-ack-ack"The light flickered up and down in long and short flashes. Still "Buzzer" Barling trilled away at the "Grand Reveille" nor raised his eyes from his work.
Desmond varied the call:
"O-K-E-W-O-O-D T-O B-A-R-L-I-N-G" he flashed.
He repeated the call twice and was spelling it out for the third time when Desmond saw the "Buzzer" raise his head.
The whistling broke off short.
"0-k-e-w-o-o-d t-o B-a-r-l-i-n-g" flickered the light.
The next moment the bedroom opposite was plunged in darkness.
Immediately afterwards the light began to flash with bewildering rapidity. But Desmond recognized the call.
"I am ready to take your message," it said.
"S-t-r-a-n-g-w-i-s-e h-a-s g-o-t m-e ack-ack-ack," Desmond flashed back, "f-e-t-c-h h-e-l-p a-t o-n-c-e ack-ack-ack: d-o-n-t r-e-p-l-y; ack-ack-ack; s-e-n-d o-n-e d-o-t o-n-e d-a-s-h t-o s-h-o-w y-o-u u-n-d-e-r-s-t-a-n-d ack-ack-ack!"For he was afraid lest the light flashing from the house opposite might attract the attention of the men downstairs.
He was very slow and he made many mistakes, so that it was with bated breath that, after sending his message, he watched the window opposite for the reply.
It came quickly. A short flash and a long one followed at once.
After that the room remained in darkness. With a sigh of relief Desmond, as quietly as possible, manoeuvred the dressing-table back into place and then jerked the chair across the carpet to the position where Strangwise and Bellward had left him in the middle of the floor:
It was here that the two men found him, apparently asleep, when they came up half-an-hour later. They carried him down to the red lacquer room again.
"Well, Desmond!" said Strangwise, when their burden had been deposited on the floor under the crimson lamp.
"Well, Maurice?" answered the other.
Strangwise noticed that Desmond had addressed him by his Christian name for the first time since he had been in the house and his voice was more friendly when he spoke again.
"I see you're going to be sensible, old man," he said. "Believe me, it's the only thing for you to do. You're going to give up the Star of Poland, aren't you?""Oh, no, Maurice, I'm not," replied Desmond in a frank, even voice. "I've told you what I'm going to do. I'm going to hand you over to the people at Pentonville to hang as a murderer. And Ishouldn't be at all surprised if they didn't run up old Bellward there alongside of you!"Strangwise shook his head at him.