His father waved his hand deprecatingly.
"I've done with the brute," he replied. "She absolutely refused to greet me. I'm going to make a present of her to these youngsters as a kind of reminder of this night's work. If they don't want her, I suppose there are plenty of people in this village glad to keep her. Now, Entwistle, best leg forward. It's a long, long way to Tarleigh. By Jove! you'll have to explain those scratches when you return to your virtuous home."
Philip Entwistle merely responded with "Yes" with a preoccupied air. His work in connection with the affair had only just begun. Although a veterinary surgeon he was also an accredited member of the Secret Service, and upon the soi-disant Andrew Norton's arrival at Tarleigh as a new resident he had been informed of the suspicious nature of the newcomer. It was by design that he had misdirected Barcroft in the matter of the wrong train on the eve of the Barborough Zeppelin raid; but that was owing to the fact that he had mistaken the occupier of Ladybird Fold for the suspect, von Eitelwurmer.
Now arose the difficulty. Could he warn Barcroft of the dangerous character of the spy, without prejudice to his plans? At present it was undesirable, even on the damning evidence he had found at the spy's house, to cause von Eitelwurmer to be arrested. Better to let the fellow prosecute his activities a little longer, complete the chain of evidence and rope in his accomplices, if any, than to make the spy a prisoner without being able to make a clean sweep of all his works. Premature action would mar the elaborate mass of evidence that Entwistle was on the road to collect—evidence that would be far-reaching as far as the network of German espionage in England was concerned.
So for the present he decided to keep his own counsel regarding Andrew Norton. Not even a hint would he throw out concerning the tenant of The Croft. If he did so, Barcroft could not help showing antipathy to his friend Norton, and the latter, scenting danger, would be doubly wary.
Yet, knowing that there was a price on Peter Barcroft's head, although he did not as yet connect Norton's presence at Tarleigh with the Kaiser's blood-moneyed decree, Entwistle realised that he would have to keep a watchful eye upon his newly-found friend in order to guard him from the possibility of impending peril.
CHAPTER XXV
THE BOMBING EXPEDITION
OFF Zeebrugge once more. In the pale grey dawn of a November morning yet another strafing operation was about to take place. The Huns, who had converted the peaceful little Belgian fishing port into a hornets' nest, were to be allowed no rest.
Approaching the coast, the undulating dunes of which were just visible against the pale light of the eastern sky, were eight monitors, their powerful guns cocked up at a grotesque angle in readiness to open fire at a six-mile range. At a considerable distance astern were the seaplane-carriers "Hippodrome," "Arena" and "Cursus," while in a far-flung line ahead, astern and abeam, were the swarm of destroyers and patrol boats whose mission it was to promptly "scotch" any U-boat that, more daring than the rest of the cowardly crew, might attempt to let loose a torpedo at the converted liners. Already the Hun had learnt the lesson that it was almost a matter of impossibility to sink a monitor by torpedo, even though the weapons were "set" to run only a few feet beneath the surface. Coupled with the knowledge of the fact that it was "unhealthy" to be anywhere in the vicinity of craft flying the White Ensign, when there were others proudly displaying the Red Ensign and which were practically incapable of defence, the U-boats took good care to give the bombarding flotilla a wide berth.