"Your work must be extraordinarily interesting," observed one of the dug-outs.
"All your difficulties are now over," said the Major, much in the manner of the chorus of a Greek play. "You will be in Berlin to-night, where your labours will be doubtless rewarded. American friends of Germany are not popular in London, I should imagine!"
I murmured: "Hardly."
"You must possess infinite tact to have aroused no suspicion," said the Major.
"That depends," I said.
"Pardon me," replied the Major, in whom I began to recognize all the signs of an unmitigated gossip, "I know something of the importance of your mission. I speak amongst ourselves, is it not so, gentlemen? There were special orders about you from the Corps Command at Münster. Your special has been waiting for you here for four days. The gentleman who came to meet you has been in a fever of expectation. He had already left the station this morning when ... when I met you, I sent word for him to pick you up here."
The plot was thickening. I most certainly was a personage of note.
"What part of America do you come from, Mr. Semlin?" said a voice in perfect English from the corner. The one-armed officer was speaking.
"From Brooklyn," I said stoutly, though my heart seemed turned to ice with the shock of hearing my own tongue.
"You have no accent," the other replied suavely.