Lancaster whispered to Browne. "Another bounder come to cheer me up. Well," he turned to the civilian. "Tell us all the bad news, there's still room for a fourth invading army from the west."
The Chief Poisoner lighted a cigarette, sat down, crossed his legs and chuckled.
"Don't mind me," said the Prince.
"What!" the civilian started to his feet. "I beg your Royal Highness—I mean, sir—I didn't——"
"Sit down," said the Prince. "Tell lies, we need amusing. Proceed, my Lord Chief Poisoner."
"Oh—ah—well, sir," the Poisoner smiled and writhed. "I have good news, sir, and at last I'm at liberty to speak. I had the honour to hear you mention, sir, the armies of the invasion."
"Yes, sir."
"They can't march on London without roads and railways, and they depend, sir, more or less on the country for supplies—of water, for instance."
"Water?"
"The first of all necessities. The Franco-German forces, as you know, sir, have landed on the coast of Kent, Sussex, and Hampshire. Now in these three counties, her Majesty has called out the Territorials, and ordered them to retreat on London sweeping the whole population before them, driving the live-stock in to feed the capital, burning all provisions and ricks that couldn't be moved. The railways have been mined, and the roads blocked with felled timber and mines. Yesterday I had the honour to direct the poisoning of every well, pond, and running stream. Her Majesty sends word advising the enemy that she will supply pure water when the troops lay down their arms."