"But we've proof," objected Bennett. "Why on earth wasn't the German Admiralty asked to produce the alleged spies in spite of their assurances?"
Thompson shrugged his shoulders.
"What actual proof have we?" he asked. "Only a letter from a German sailor stating that a friend of his saw Hamerton and Detroit on the island of Heligoland on the same day as they were supposed to be washed overboard. The fellow might have made a mistake, all in good faith, or he might be playing the fool with Stirling."
"But there's the instance of the German destroyer persistently cruising off the Dollart. That tallies with Pfeil's statement that the Diomeda was to be taken possession of and brought back to Heligoland," persisted the editor of The Yachtsman's Journal.
"I quite agree with you. There seems something strange about the whole matter," replied Thompson. "For the moment I am a self-constituted mouthpiece for our friends the enemy. Again, the German sailor might be mistaken; while, since a part of the Dollart is German waters, one of the torpedo-boat destroyers is quite at liberty to cruise about there, I take it."
"Quite so," agreed Bennett affably. He was about to play his trump card. He paused while he lit a cigarette, and then continued: "I've had the tip, my dear Thompson, that the Admiralty have given orders for the torpedo-boat destroyer Boxer to proceed from Sheerness to Delfzyl tomorrow morning, to tow the Diomeda back to Lowestoft. What do you make of that, eh?"
"Stirling," said Thompson quietly, "there's a job for you. I believe you can be regarded as one of the yacht's crew? Good! I'll 'phone to Sir Theophilus and ask him to get you a passage on the Boxer."
Before two that afternoon the head of the Foreign Office obtained the necessary permit from the Admiralty, and at six that evening Gordon Stirling presented himself on board the torpedo-boat destroyer Boxer, lying alongside Sheerness Dockyard. Three hours later the permission of the Dutch Government for the British warship to enter Delfzyl was obtained, and at six the following morning she slipped quietly past the Garrison Fort en route for Holland.
"Do you anticipate any trouble with the German destroyer?" asked Stirling, in the course of conversation with the lieutenant-commander of the Boxer.
"No, worse luck!" replied Lieutenant Mallet. "I wish the blighters would fight. Of course this is not for publication, but I can assure you that there's hardly an officer or man in the British Navy who is not as keen as mustard on the question of smashing the Teutons. It's got to come, mark my words, and the longer the delay the harder the job will be."