"Do not forget, Lord Rockstone," he said, "that England six months ago
spoke lightly of submarines."

The War Minister pretended not to hear; but no sooner had the door
closed upon his offensive visitor than he caught up the
telephone. "Get me the Admiralty, and present my compliments to
Mr. Underhill," he directed sharply. "Tell him I would like to speak
to him at once."

He turned back to a tray of letters left upon his desk to sign, but
halted, his pen held arrested in air.

"Suppose," he muttered, "the fellow should actually have--? But,
pshaw! It's simply a mammoth Yankee bluff. That Foreign Department at
Washington is just silly enough to believe that it can frighten us
with its manufactured photographs. They are so anxious over there to
stop the war, that they would resort to any expedient--anything but
fight."

The telephone tinkled.

"Ah! Are you there Underhill? Yes, this is Rockstone. I called you up
to warn you against a madman who is now on his way to see you. You
can't well refuse to give him an audience, for he has such strong
letters from the American Government that one might imagine he was a
special envoy sent to offer armed intervention and to end the war. But
in my opinion he is merely a crank or an impostor, who has succeeded
in obtaining the support and endorsement of their State Department.

"What is that? Oh yes; he's an American. His name? How should I