"Not half bad," said the War Lord. "Those tourists will make splendid commis voyageurs for our army of invasion."
"Agents provocateurs!"
Wilhelm shrugged impatiently. "Fouché's business! Of course my War Office will furnish the dates for the excursions. Sounds ridiculous, but England's little vest-pocket army indulges in annual manoeuvres like my own, and it would be curious if some valuable information could not be gleaned from a boat full of military and semi-military sightseers. Of course the English naval manoeuvres are much more important. Sometimes a simple tourist sees things for which the official and unofficial representatives of my Admiralty and your own department, Wedell, search in vain."
The discussion continued in the same vein for another half-hour, the War Lord impressing upon Wedell the absolute necessity of increased espionage in England. "Thirty-six years ago," said Wilhelm in conclusion, "Bismarck had over thirty thousand spies and sympathisers in France doing his work. Have we got as many in England to-day? How many are on the pay-rolls of English railways, of Scotch railways and, particularly, of Irish railways? You can't tell off-hand? Report within three days. And don't forget the proofs, if you please. I likewise want to know how many of your men are detailed to attack British arsenals, harbours, wireless stations and so forth in the event of war. Whatever their number, duplicate, nay, treble it, and don't be sparing with promises. If we invade England, we won't get out in a hurry, tell them, and there will be plenty of pickings for our friends while we are on the Insular side of the Channel.
"Remind them that our army of occupation remained in France two years and five months after peace had been signed. I propose to enjoy English hospitality even a while longer, and the people that serve us 'before and aft' can make enough money while we are in England to evacuate with us and live on their interests in the Fatherland after Threadneedle Street has paid the last instalment. Think of it! Serve the War Lord and feather one's own nest at the same time."
Wilhelm had been sitting down uncommonly long. Indeed he had been almost confidential with his pal in the conspiracy international. He now rose, squared his shoulders and assumed his favourite character of the graven image.
"I don't like Krupp's ignorance of things English. Shall make a few trips into England, and see what there is to be seen," he said in a tone of command. He continued: "I want a talk from Court Chaplain Dryander on the chosen people, not on the Jews—on the term. Got impressed with it while talking to Ballin. Germans the chosen people! Sounds good!"
"Dryander will report at eleven to-morrow morning. Order (Professor) Delbrueck to be here at the same time. I will see him after the sky-pilot has gone. Parsons are such romancers; it's well to digest their palaver to the accompaniment of historic facts."
"One thing more." The War Lord grabbed a pencil and marked asafoetida on half a dozen pages of his daily calendar. "I want to have a conference with chemists by and by."
CHAPTER XXIX