"They've pushed me into the Foreign Office," explained Sylvester. "Suppose they imagined that my experience in Germany might be of service. You see, I know a good deal of the internal conditions before war broke out."
"Just the sort of chap to do some good," replied Holcombe. "You'll be in the Corps Diplomatique yet—the Diplomatic Corpse as our old friend the Lynbury guard remarked on one occasion. Wonder if he's still in charge of the Lynbury and Marshton express?"
"Don't know, I'm sure," said the Moke. "But we'll soon find out."
"By the bye," remarked Holcombe, "have you heard anything about von Gobendorff?"
"Shot in the Tower," replied Farrar laconically. "Thank goodness I wasn't knocking around to be called to give evidence at the court martial."
"You may be in a similar stunt, old boy," rejoined Holcombe. "One of our light cruisers disabled a brand-new U-boat last Monday. They managed to save about a dozen of the crew before she sank. Amongst them was her skipper—guess who?"
"Not von Loringhoven?"
"Right first shot," exclaimed Holcombe. "It was von Loringhoven, and he had the wind up properly. I don't think that he'll get away in a hurry this time."
When at length the three churns changed trains at Marshton Junction they found their old favourite of school days still on duty.
"Know you, Mr. Sylvester? Of course I do. And you are one of the Corpse, I hear?"