“Listen to me, both of you!” she cried incoherently.  “Helen, you especially!  You never heard anything so wonderful in your life!  They weren’t fishing excursions at all.  There weren’t any whiting.  Henry was laying mines all the time, and he’s blown up half the German fleet!  It’s all in the Times this morning.  He’s got a D.S.O.  —­Henry has—­and he’s a Rear-Admiral!  Oh, Helen, I want to cry!”

The two women wandered into a far corner of the room.  Richard wrung his brother-in-law’s hand.

“Philippa isn’t exactly coherent,” he remarked, “but it sounds all right.”

“You see,” Sir Henry explained, “I’ve been mine laying ever since the war started.  I always had ideas of my own about mine fields, as you may remember.  I started with Scotland, and then they moved me down here.  The Admiralty thought they’d be mighty clever, and they insisted upon my keeping my job secret.  It led to a little trouble with Philippa, but I think we are through with all that.  —­I suppose you know that those two young women have been engaged in a regular conspiracy, Dick?”

“I know a little,” Richard replied gravely, “and I’m sure you will believe that I wouldn’t have countenanced it for a moment if I’d had any idea what they were up to.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Sir Henry agreed.  “Anyway, it led to no harm.”

“Maderstrom, then,” Richard asked, with a sudden more complete apprehension of the affair, “was over here to spy upon you?”

“That’s the ticket,” Sir Henry assented.

Richard frowned.

“And he bribed Philippa and Helen with my liberty!”

“Don’t you worry about that,” his brother-in-law begged.  “They must have known by instinct that a chap like Maderstrom couldn’t do any harm.”

“Where is he now?” Richard asked eagerly.  “Helen insisted upon keeping me out of the way but we’ve heard all sorts of rumours.  The Commandant has been up here after him, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, and I sent him away with a flea in his ear!  I don’t like the fellow.”

“And Maderstrom?”

“The pseudo-Mr. Lessingham, eh?” Sir Henry observed.  “Well, to tell you the truth, Dick, if there is one person I am a little sorry for in the history of the last few weeks, it’s Maderstrom.”

“You, too?” Richard exclaimed.  “Why, every one seems crazy about the fellow.”

Sir Henry nodded.

“I remember him in your college days, Dick.  He was a gentleman and a good sort, only unfortunately his mother was a German.  He did his bit of soldiering with the Prussian Guards at the beginning of the war, got a knock and volunteered for the Secret Service.  They sent him over here.  The fellow must have no end of pluck, for, as I dare say you know, they let him down from the observation car of a Zeppelin.  He finds his way here all right, makes his silly little bargain with our dear but gullible womenkind, and sets