information will be very vital to us. It is to-day or to-morrow
with Mr. John Bull. If he prefers to-day we are perfectly ready.
If it is to-morrow we shall be more ready still. I should think
they would be wiser to fight with allies than without them, but
that is their own affair. This week is their week of destiny.
But you were speaking of your papers." He sat in the armchair
with the light shining upon his broad bald head, while he puffed
sedately at his cigar.

The large oak-panelled, book-lined room had a curtain hung in the
future corner. When this was drawn it disclosed a large, brass-
bound safe. Von Bork detached a small key from his watch chain,
and after some considerable manipulation of the lock he swung
open the heavy door.

"Look!" said he, standing clear, with a wave of his hand.

The light shone vividly into the opened safe, and the secretary
of the embassy gazed with an absorbed interest at the rows of
stuffed pigeon-holes with which it was furnished. Each pigeon-
hole had its label, and his eyes as he glanced along them read a
long series of such titles as "Fords," "Harbour-defences,"
"Aeroplanes," "Ireland,", "Egypt," "Portsmouth forts," "The
Channel," "Rosythe," and a score of others. Each compartment was
bristling with papers and plans.

"Colossal!" said the secretary. Putting down his cigar he softly
clapped his fat hands.

"And all in four years, Baron. Not such a bad show for the hard-