A similar apology was tendered to all the other captured swains when they were allowed to depart. "Fall in" was then sounded, and all marched merrily home. In the officers' mess that night the laughter was loud and long, for their men had squared the defeat of the previous day. Even the colonel let himself go, and laughed till his old artificial leg rattled on the floor with glee.
"Useful men, eh," he concluded.
"Yes, sir," replied the adjutant.
[pg 175]
CHAPTER XIV.
ALL ABOUT SPIES.
Giddy Greens, to whom you have already been introduced, was a queer fellow. He was a mixture of Beau Brummel, Cæsar, and Don Juan—one who dressed well, fought well, and kissed gloriously, as a flapper would say. He was also a student, and certainly a daring adventurer. His fine complexion, well-groomed figure, and air of blasé indifference, gave to all the idea that he was simply a delightful idiot who hunted women and tippled good wine. But Giddy Greens was something like that hero in 'The Scarlet Pimpernel'—a man who had his strength and ambition under a mask of genial imbecility. He knew English literature upside down, and delighted to rave about the glories of Shakespeare, Milton, and Stevenson. A traveller too, for Giddy [pg 176] Greens had toured the whole world on a ten-pound note. He had done everything from cattle-ranching to that of a super in a third-class Musical Comedy. To women he was ever a hero. His magnetic personality was of a forceful yet charming kind.
Still Greens was a very serious man. Imperialism was his dream; patriotism his ideal and pride. He lived for Britain. In all his wanderings he preached for the flag. In these ramblings, too, he observed things, noted them down, and then startled his friends by his discoveries. The Germans he loathed, and the Germans he had followed from John o' Groats to Timbuctoo. He had dogged German travellers and spies from Tilbury Docks through Egypt, Ceylon, Australasia, Canada, and Japan. Like Sherlock Holmes, he followed quick, yet silent. At the outpost of Empire he had seen the evil work of Prussian hands. It was Greens who discovered "The League of the Fatherland"—that is, a German semi-official and social organisation within the British Empire. He found that it was bossed by their Consuls, and he found nearly all Vice-Consuls to be officers—and spies. He had written to the press and revealed [pg 177] these things, but the luxurious-living public only laughed. They had no time; they had engagements for music halls, football, and golf. The awful dangers, however, stirred this zealot on. He kept at the Teutons' heels and learned more things. These were revealed one night at mess when Greens had declared that the bombardment of Sandtown-on-Sea was the fruitful work of spies.
"Explain, Greens," shouted one of the subalterns.
"Well, I'll tell you. I first discovered the Germans at work on the North-east Coast. Every German waiter, schoolmaster, and tradesman in all the towns from Peterhead to Dundee I found to be spies. They were in "The League of the Fatherland." All were registered by the Consul. In the event of invasion every man would have a part in the job. In the times of peace they studied the coast, the tides, the location of ships and troops, the position of guns, everything, in fact, which would be of use. These things were reported in writing to their Consuls, or verbally, when the League met at the many German clubs and gatherings. I pointed this out.
[pg 178] "In what way?" asked an anxious sub.