“You can search Germany from end to end,” Mervin Brown declared, “and find no trace of any spirit of the sort.  I am sorry if I am a disappointment to you, gentlemen, but the present Government views your attitude without sympathy.  General Richardson is expecting a visit from you this morning at the War Office, and he will give you any information you desire.  An appointment has also been made for you this afternoon at the Admiralty.  You are doing me the honour of dining with me here to-morrow night to meet certain members of my Cabinet, and we will, if you choose, discuss the matter further then.  I have thought it best to place my views clearly before you, however, at the outset of your visit here.”

The Frenchmen rose a few minutes later and took their leave, ceremoniously but with obvious discontent.  The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair and awaited his secretary’s return with a well-satisfied smile.  In a few minutes the latter presented himself.

“Well, Franklin,” the great man said, “I’ve let them hear the truth for once.  Plain speaking, eh?”

The young man bowed.

“They certainly know your views, sir.”

The Minister glanced at his subordinate sharply.

“What’s the matter with you this morning, Franklin?” he demanded.

“There is nothing the matter with me, thank you, sir,” was the quiet reply.

“You’re not going to tell me that you disapprove of my attitude?”

“By no means, sir,” the young man assured his Chief hastily,—­“not altogether, that is to say.  At the same time, one wonders how far those two men represent the feeling of France.”

His Chief shrugged his shoulders.

“The military spirit is hard to kill,” he said.  “It is in the blood of most Frenchmen.  They are not big enough to understand that the world is moving on to greater things.  What did they say to you before they left?”

“Nothing much, sir.  The General just asked me whether I thought you would soon be content to leave London unpoliced.”

“What rubbish!  Any one else for me to see this morning?”

“You promised to give Lord Dorminster ten minutes,” the young man reminded him.  “He is in the anteroom now.”

The Prime Minister frowned.

“Dorminster,” he repeated.  “He is a nephew of the man who was always worrying the Government to reestablish the secret service.  I remember he came to see me the other day, declared that his uncle had been murdered, and a secret dispatch from Germany stolen.  I wonder he didn’t wind up with a report that the Chinese were on their way to seize Ireland!”

“It is the same man, sir.”

“Well, I suppose I’d better see him and get it over,” his Chief declared irritably.  “If only one could make these people realize how far behind the times they are!”

Nigel was shown in, a few minutes later.  Mr. Mervin Brown was gracious but terse.