At the summit he saw the figure emerge upon an open space upon which stood a slender round tower of considerable height.
John stopped at the edge of the pines and saw the figure disappear within the tower, upon the summit of which something presently began to flash and crackle.

He caught his breath and the blood leaped fiercely through his veins.

He knew that the tower was a wireless signal station and that it was talking to another somewhere.

It sent, too, as he well knew, through the velvety blue of the night the message that Mademoiselle Julie Lannes, Suzanne, her maid, and John Scott, the American, were in the village of Obenstein where they could be taken.
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.