The Sub took his leave. In the anteroom he rejoined his father, who, on receipt of a telegram, had hastened to meet his son; and the two made their way towards the main entrance.
"Here is Mr. Hamerton," said the uniformed messenger, addressing a short, thick-set individual, whose face bore a smile of anticipated pleasure.
"Mr. Hamerton?" he asked.
"Yes; but you have the advantage of me."
"Oh, I'm Stirling! I've seen you at a distance, you know, only——"
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Stirling," said the Sub warmly. "I know who you are now, right enough. You're the fellow who discovered that Detroit and I were prisoners on the island of Heligoland."
"Didn't do much good, I'm afraid," added Stirling modestly. "You got away independent of that. But this is what I want to see you about," holding out a small paper parcel. "I found it stowed away on the Diomeda. It's a torpedo book."
"You did, by Jove!" exclaimed Hamerton. "Stirling, you have done a national service. I thought the book had been found by the German officer who searched the yacht. Stand by in the waiting-room for a few minutes longer, Pater; I'm going to take Mr. Stirling in to see the First Lord."
It would be no exaggeration to affirm that the whole of the English-speaking inhabitants of the globe were agitated by the astounding escape of Sub-Lieutenant Hamerton from captivity.
In America anti-German sentiments rose high, while urgent representations were made to the Capitol that an emphatic demand for Detroit's release should be instantly sent to Berlin.