Number 70, Berlin: A Story of Britain's Peril — Inside the Classic

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Authors: Le Queux, William, 1864-1927 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2012 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction; War stories Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 57,506

Reading time 251 min

Text sections 7

The catalog record for Number 70, Berlin: A Story of Britain's Peril — Inside the Classic provides practical reading context through 57,506 words, 4 hr 11 min estimated reading time, and 7 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 17.0 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #41131

William Le Queux's 1915 spy thriller follows Jack Sainsbury's dismissal from a London firm and his entanglement with a German espionage network operating under the guise of patriotism. The novel's opening boardroom scene, cipher system, and gradual revelation of traitors guide a first reading focused on suspicion and hidden codes.

Editorial Edition Score 4.7/5

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg41131

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There were present, first of all, the usual set of society women of uncertain age, dressed in the latest French models, which gave them an air of youth, yet, at the same time, accentuated their angularity and unnatural freshness; two or three elderly men, led there against their will by their strong-minded spouses, a pretty girl or two from nowhere, and one or two male enthusiasts, including two good-looking and merry-going peers who were loud in their condemnation of the whole Government--from the Prime Minister downwards.

Among those to whom the great and much-advertised Lewin Rodwell was introduced was a rather thick-set, dark-haired, clean-shaven, middle-aged man named Charles Trustram, a thoroughly John Bull type of Englishman, who occupied a highly responsible position in the Transport department of the Admiralty.

The two men shook hands warmly, whereupon Trustram expressed his great pleasure at meeting a man so famous as Lewin Rodwell.

"I came here this afternoon, Mr Rodwell, on purpose to meet you," he assured him. "Lady Kenworthy told me you were coming, and I know the committee of the Anti-Teuton Alliance, of which I'm a member, are most eager to enlist your influence."

"I'll be most delighted," declared Rodwell, in his charmingly affable manner. "I think the movement is a really excellent one. Without a doubt the question has become very serious indeed. There are Germans and German influence in our midst in quarters quite unexpected and undiscovered--high official quarters too. Can we, therefore, be surprised if things don't always go as they should?"

"Exactly," said the Admiralty official, as they both took seats together on a couch against the wall. "There's no doubt that the Germans, as part of their marvellous preparedness, made an audacious attempt to weave a network of vile treachery in our Government Departments and, above all, in the War Office and Admiralty. As an official I can tell you, in strictest confidence of course, that I have, several times of late, had my suspicions seriously aroused. Information leaks out. How--nobody--not even our Intelligence Department itself can discover."

"My dear sir," exclaimed Rodwell confidentially, "is it really to be wondered at when men of German birth and German descent are employed in nearly all the various departments in Whitehall? After all, are we not to-day fighting for our country's life and freedom? Certainly those who come after us would never forgive us--you and I--those who, if born into a Germanised world and held under the iron yoke of barbaric `Kultur,' looked back to our conduct of the war that sealed their fate and found that, besides supplying the enemy with war material--cotton and the like--we actually harboured Germans in our camp and gave them knowledge, power and position vital to the enemy's success. And I assert to-day, Mr Trustram, that we treat Germany as the `most-favoured nation,' even though the flower of our land are being sacrificed by thousands and thousands upon the fields of Flanders. Yes, it is an outrageous scandal--a disgrace to our nation. As I said in a speech at Liverpool last week, we are daily being misled, misguided, and lured to our destruction. And for that reason," the great man added--"for that reason I'm only too ready and anxious to help the Anti-Teuton Alliance in their splendid crusade against this canker-worm in England's heart."

Lady Betty, seated quite near, talking to a dowager-duchess, overheard him. He had purposely spoken loudly and emphatically, with that object.

"Good! Mr Rodwell," her ladyship cried. "Excellent! I am so delighted that you thoroughly approve of our efforts. We are trying to do our share, in this terrible crisis. You are such a busy man that I almost feared to ask you to help us."

"I am never too busy, Lady Kenworthy, to help in such a good cause as this," he assured her, in that suave manner of his which stood him in such good stead at times. "True, I am rather a busy man, as everyone has to be in these days. We, in the City, have to bear our share in finance, for we know that one day--sooner or later--the Government will require a big loan to carry on the war. And when they do, we hope to be as ready to meet it as the industrial population of the country will no doubt be. Still, to us it means much thought. We have no time nowadays for any idle week-ends, or golf by the sea."

At mention of golf Lady Betty smiled. She knew well that it was the great man's habit to play golf at Sunningdale or Walton Heath with various important personages.

Continue Reading →

The novel opens in a panelled boardroom on a cold November afternoon in 1914, where two company directors, Lewin Rodwell and Sir Boyle Huntley, discuss an employee who may have overheard their conversation. Rodwell, described as “one of the most popular and patriotic figures in London,” dismisses the man as a “slacker” who ought to join the army—a pretext for firing him. The dialogue immediately establishes a tension between public reputation and private scheming, a pattern that recurs throughout the excerpts. Readers should note how quickly the narrative shifts from corporate intrigue to national security, and how the author uses physical details—Rodwell’s cigar, the fire, the “American rolltop desk”—to anchor the spy plot in a recognizable, material world.

The Boardroom as a Stage for Suspicion

The first chapter introduces Rodwell and Huntley as “keen business men” whose financial juggling is “within the law.” Their conversation about Sainsbury, the employee who “knows too much,” sets up a motif of overheard secrets and preemptive dismissal. The author lingers on Rodwell’s appearance—“fair-haired, sleek, rather refined”—and contrasts it with Huntley’s “cockney birth and breeding,” suggesting that class markers are unreliable indicators of loyalty. The boardroom itself, with its panelled walls and fire, becomes a confined space where private threats are made. Readers should track how this initial scene establishes the novel’s method: revealing character through dialogue and setting, rather than through direct narration of inner thoughts.

The Cipher System and Its Simplicity

Later excerpts describe a cipher system used by “Number 70 Berlin,” the German spy network. The code relies on key-sentences that are “quite usual sentences, often proverbs in English,” such as “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.” The narrator emphasizes that the system’s “very simplicity” constitutes its security, and that it has defied British intelligence. This passage is notable for its technical specificity: the author provides a facsimile of a cipher message and explains how Rodwell “reduc[es] the information into cipher” using a “little book.” For a first reading, this section offers a concrete example of the novel’s interest in the mechanics of espionage, grounding the plot in a plausible—if invented—method of secret communication.

Shifting Allegiances and the Puzzle of Trust

In Chapter Twelve, the narrative returns to Jack Sainsbury, the dismissed employee, who now hosts a conference with Charles Trustram and Sir Houston Bird. Trustram, an Admiralty official, worries that he inadvertently revealed a naval plan to Rodwell, whom he had considered a “man of such tried and sterling patriotism.” The trio pieces together the puzzle, realizing that Rodwell’s public persona—his “battle cry ‘Britain for the British’”—masks his role as an agent of Germany. This section illustrates how the novel structures suspense through delayed revelation: the reader learns of Rodwell’s treachery alongside the characters, but the excerpts do not disclose the full extent of the conspiracy. The scene also highlights the theme of misplaced trust, as characters reassess their assumptions about loyalty and patriotism.

The Role of Setting in Building Atmosphere

Throughout the excerpts, setting details reinforce the mood of wartime suspicion. The opening boardroom is cold and dark; later, the cipher scene takes place at an “American rolltop desk” with a “big silver cigarette-box.” Sainsbury’s flat in Heath Street, Hampstead, is described as “modest,” contrasting with the opulence of the directors’ offices. These locations are not merely backdrops but active elements: the boardroom enables private conspiracy, the desk facilitates coded communication, and the flat becomes a space for counter-espionage. Readers should observe how the author uses physical spaces to delineate spheres of influence—corporate, domestic, and secret—and how characters move between them. The specificity of place (Heath Street, the Channel) anchors the fictional plot in a recognizable geography of wartime Britain.

As you read, pay attention to how the novel balances its two main threads: the personal story of Sainsbury’s dismissal and the larger espionage plot involving Rodwell. The excerpts suggest that the narrative rewards careful observation of dialogue and setting, where clues about character and conspiracy are embedded. The cipher system, described in detail, offers a model for how the novel itself operates—through patterns that seem simple but require the right key to decode.

I remember handling Number 70 and feeling the weight of every sealed envelope, every false name. Yet it set my mind on quieter things. Something in that atmosphere of concealed intentions lingers, softly, in the pages of The Last Call: A Romance (Vol. 3 of 3) — A Closer Reading, where a heart, not a nation, learns to trust. Both were born of anxious times, I suppose.