"Can't help thinking about those fellows who were collared at Heligoland," remarked Stirling.
"Don't see why you need worry about them," said Smith. "I wonder you don't suggest that they are our friends Hamerton & Co. in disguise. Anyhow, they took the risk and failed. Spying is a rotten game, when all's said and done."
"There I don't agree with you. It's an honourable profession. A few men risk their liberty in trying to gain information that in the event of war will save hundreds of their fellow countrymen's lives. It's necessary; both Great Britain and Germany have regular men for the purpose of espionage."
"Hanged if I looked upon it from that point of view; but it seems a downright low trick for a fellow to sell naval and military secrets."
"Rather! There I agree with you. There's a vast difference between a spy and an informer. The first is, I might also say, a humanitarian; the second is a traitor. There's no doubt about it, the Germans have the advantage of us in the espionage line. There isn't a Government building, dock, or battery on the east coast but is known to the German Government. They have spies everywhere."
"We have caught a few."
"Yes, we began at first by letting them off with a caution—gave kindly advice, so to speak. Then they collared some of our secret-service men and gave it to them fairly stiff. We retaliated, and the business became a ding-dong affair, each country increasing the severity of the punishments inflicted upon the spies they detected. But, as you said, five years is a bit stiff."
"Hallo! There's the harbourmaster!" exclaimed Stirling, catching sight of the official through one of the scuttles of the cabin. "I'll ask him about the newspaper."
Both men ran on deck. The crowd of Dutchmen was still in evidence, only the attention of the idlers was directed seaward, A telescope was being handed round, the usually stolid Delfzylers showing considerable eagerness to obtain a loan of the instrument.
"What is the matter, Mynheer van Wyk?" asked Smith.