*CHAPTER XVIII*
*"LIVE WIRES"*
Matters in the Schwarzwald were now rapidly nearing a climax; the finalcontest between German brains and English wit could not much longer bedelayed. For the moment Keane and Sharpe, unknown to themselves, wereenmeshed in the network of a deathly trap. Nothing less than a miracle,or something approaching the same, could now set them free from theirperilous position. One thing was certain, and that was that this cleverbut unscrupulous mathematician and engineer, who was now their declaredenemy, would not hesitate to adopt the most extreme measures to get ridof his unwelcome visitors. Unfortunately his power, which almostapproached the supernatural, made him a dangerous and a wily foe.
It was now past midnight, but the two Englishmen, who had left the tracksome time before at a point where its course was suddenly changed, andhad continued their journey by the aid of a luminous compass, and theuncertain light of the moon, came at last to another halt.
"Let us stay here a while, Sharpe," his companion had whispered. "Ihave a strong premonition of some impending danger."
"The deuce you have!" remarked Sharpe, who well knew what this meant ina man like Keane, whose psychic faculties were not to be sneered at.
"Yes. I cannot explain it, but there is some hidden danger right aheadof us; of that I am as certain as that we are in the Schwarzwald. Wehad better lie down a while and await developments quietly."
Nothing loath, Sharpe unfastened his shoulder straps, slid his equipmentquietly to the ground, and laid himself down beside his companion.
For the moment all was quiet. The moon was hidden behind a bank ofclouds, and it was therefore very dark, but sounds travel far in thenight air of the forest, and when they conversed, they spoke only inwhispers.
"It may be," remarked Keane, "that the spot we seek is just in front ofus, though I cannot see any glade or clearing as yet; it is too dark."
"Is it likely that there are any booby-traps hereabouts, set by thiswily professor?" asked his companion.
"I cannot say; he may have some outer system of defence."
"Or even a system of ground signals to announce the approach ofstrangers, whose presence might be undesirable to him," added Sharpe.
"It is possible," whispered Keane, whose mind was actively engaged inpreparation for eventualities, in view of his inexplicable premonitions.Suddenly he started and touched his comrade lightly with his raisedforefinger.
"Hist!" he said, in a voice which could not have carried further than acouple of yards Then he carefully raised his head, and, turning his eyestowards the thicket through which they had come, he tried to read thesecret which it contained. His alarm was justified, yet was hemystified not a little, for the more immediate danger seemed to comefrom behind.
"Can you hear it, Sharpe?"
"Yes, the same crackling of twigs; another wild boar," remarked hisfriend facetiously.
Keane shook his head, for his sensitive ears had told him that thefootsteps which he had heard were those of human beings. Nor was hemistaken, for a moment later they both heard distinctly, not merely thecrackling of twigs and the rustle of the bracken under heavy footfalls,but voices, human voices, conversing in a guarded and careful manner.
"None of your Schwarzwald peasants this time," he murmured, fingeringhis Webley already, for he instinctively felt that this time they werebeset by danger both before and behind. And indeed, these two men,during all their adventures in the secret service during the war, werenever in more deadly peril than at this moment, as they were soon tolearn.
Scarcely daring to breathe, much less to whisper now, the two Englishmenwatched furtively for the coming of the strangers, who were now lessthan a score of yards away, but were approaching very stealthily, asthough they were searching for something on the ground.
"Who can they be?" wondered Keane. "And what can they be searching for?"
"Poachers," Sharpe was thinking, "merely poachers, searching for theirbooby-traps."
Nearer and nearer came the dark shadows, and both the airmen had theirWebleys trained on them now. In that moment they might have shot themdown easily, and before long they would regret they had not done so.But that is not the English way, for the ordinary Englishman would giveeven a dog his chance, as the saying goes. Still, there are dogs anddogs, and sometimes human dogs are worse than the four-footed ones. Butthe Englishmen were uncertain; they did not know what world-wideconspirators were these two men. They did not know what fearful deedswould happen even that day on the Hamadian desert, two thousand milesaway, but all of it engineered from this spot, and made possible bythese two men. And as they did not know, they did not fire, but waited.
"Gott in Himmel, where does that _verdammt_ live wire begin?" asked oneof the men in a low but vehement voice. It was the professor himself,searching for one of his own man-traps.
Sharpe glanced at Keane, but the other motioned him not to fire.
"We're learning something, old man!" he whispered. "This is the gatewayto the aerodrome."
The two men had passed them now, passed within six yards, and yet hadmissed them. They were now groping a little way ahead, looking forsecret signs and marks lest they should be hoist upon their own petard.
"Donner und Blitzen! Have you found it yet, Fritz?" called theprofessor a little louder to his friend.
"Here it is, Professor! Be careful ... there are six wires already laidfor those _verdammt_ Englishmen, Keane and--what is the name of theother?"
"Sharpe!" rapped out the professor, as though he had known the man allhis life.
At these words the two Englishmen looked at each other in blankamazement. And before their astonishment could subside, the opportunitywhich had been given to them of ridding the world of two greatconspirators had passed.
"One--two--six!" they heard the mechanic say, as he helped the professorover the deadly maze, scarcely fifteen yards in front of them, and thentheir dark forms had merged into the trees and disappeared, their voicesbecoming fainter and fainter.
"Great Scott!" gasped Sharpe, when he recovered from his astonishment;"we've walked right into the hornets' nest."
"We should have done if we'd gone another fifteen yards," replied Keane,wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
"Fortunate you had that presentiment of impending danger," said hisfriend.
"We should have been lying dead and half grilled over his deadly wiresbut for that strange, weird feeling of mine," replied Keane.
"But there, after all our attempts at concealment, he knows all aboutus."
"Even our names seem familiar to him," remarked the senior airman,greatly puzzled.
"I cannot understand it," replied the other. "Who can have given himthis information?"
"Who indeed?" asked Keane. "It is as great a mystery as the othermatter."
"Can it be the woodcutter or the clockmaker, do you think, for Hans issure to have called at Jacob Stendahl's cottage and told him the news."
But Keane shook his head, as he remarked: "Neither Hans nor yet thewoodcutter could possibly have told the professor our names. This evilgenius must have other sources of information at his command. Possiblyhe has an agent at Mulhausen aerodrome, or even at Scotland Yard. To aman like this, a thousand ways are open. I cannot say, but this I know,we are on the edge of the biggest mystery I have ever encountered."
"And we might easily have shot him. Bah! it would have been better tohave fired, Keane," added Sharpe somewhat bitterly. "Cannot we followhim now?"
"No!" replied his companion, firmly. "It is better as it is."
"Why?" demanded the other.
"Rest content, Sharpe," said Keane. "To-day we have discovered theaerodrome; to-morrow we will capture it."