"What battleship was sent?" he asked.
"The 'Aida,'" the young man replied slowly,—"a first-class cruiser, twenty-six thousand tons."
Falkenberg was silent for a moment. His face had grown dark.
"And ours," he muttered, "was a third-rate gunboat! Who in all Downing
Street could have planned a coup like this?"
"It was Sir Julien Portel—his last official action," the Baron answered. "The papers to-morrow will be full of this. The Press of Germany and England and France have the whole story."
"Which is to say," Falkenberg exclaimed, "that we are to be the laughing-stock of Europe! Anything else?"
"There is an imperial summons commanding your presence at Potsdam at once," Neudheim acknowledged reluctantly.
"I start for the frontier in a quarter of an hour," Falkenberg decided. "I shall drive to Châlons and telegraph for a special train from there."
"You will let me accompany you?" the young man begged.
Falkenberg hesitated, then he shook his head.