"He's slippery, at any rate," declared Cumberleigh, as he settled himself in one comer of the settee and lit a cigarette. "You know I was warned as a witness at the court-martial. Rotten job giving evidence against a fellow. To my mind it's like murdering him in cold blood. I was to have left for London this afternoon, but this morning I had a wire postponing the most unpleasant duty. Then I learnt from the adjutant that von Preussen was at liberty again."
"Released?" asked Meredith and Wakefield in one voice.
"After a fashion," replied Cumberleigh.
"Details please?"
"There are none—except that he managed to escape. However, I don't fancy von Preussen will count after to-day. The Armistice——"
"Has it been signed?" asked McIntosh.
Before Cumberleigh could reply there came a low roar of distant cheering, accompanied by the hooting of steam whistles and the long-drawn boom of sirens.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Wakefield.
The four officers started to their feet and scrambled indecorously for the ladder. Gaining the deck, they found the signalman of the anchored M.L.'s taking in a message from the swiftly moving arms of a shore semaphore.
"What is it, Signalman?" inquired Meredith.