"Suppose, after all, it's nothing much," observed General Crosthwaite. "Masters of neutral steamers arriving at Danish ports state that they sighted numerous wrecks and hundreds of floating corpses. Another Reuter yarn, I take it."
"More U-boat frightfulness perhaps," hazarded Admiral Sefton.
And yet the report was a mild form of paving the way towards the announcement of the Jutland battle. This was on Friday. Already Germany had claimed a glorious and colossal naval victory, and the tardiness of the British Government in giving the lie direct to the boastful Hunnish claims gave, at least temporarily, a severe shock to neutrals' belief in the invincibility of Britain's sea power. Already American pro-German papers had appeared with highly coloured accounts of Great Britain's crushing naval disaster; cartoons depicting John Bull's consternation at the return of the battered British lion with a badly twisted tail spoke volumes for the incontestable superiority of the German navy.
Happily ignorant of the disquieting rumours, and, indeed, of any knowledge of the naval action, the motorists slept soundly until eight on the following morning.
"Another fine day," declared Crosthwaite Senior at breakfast. "We ought to be home by three in the afternoon. Any papers yet?" he enquired of the waiter.
"No, sir, not until eleven," was the reply.
"Must wait until we get to Gloucester, I suppose," grunted the general. "One of the penalties for stopping at a place on a branch line."
"A fine little place, Pater," remarked George. "Absolutely top-hole. Wish we were staying here. There's an awfully decent stream down there--looks just the place for fishing."
"Can't beat the Severn for that, my boy," declared his father, loyal to his native town and the river that flows past its site. "Buck up, my boy, and finish the packing. I want to see that that petrol-tank is properly filled--no unsealed cans, remember."
George Crosthwaite was really a useful assistant to his parent. Crosthwaite Senior frankly recognized the fact, but forbore from giving his son, personally, due credit, avowing that it was bad for discipline to be lavish with praise.