“Merely because you British people are trustful fools,” laughed Rodwell merrily. “You never listened to Lord Roberts, a great soldier and strategist greater than any we have to-day in Germany. You all laughed at his warnings. And now you’ll have to laugh on the other side of your mouths. That’s the real, plain, brutal truth of it all. You can’t conceal it. If you English had taken the advice of your popular hero ‘Bobs,’ there would have been no war to-day. You would have been far too strong for our Fatherland.”
“But why should we sacrifice our lives any further?” asked the toiler of the sea. “I’m sick and tired of the whole affair, as I said to Ted only this morning.”
“I quite appreciate that,” was Rodwell’s reply. “But—”
A click sounded upon the instrument, and Rodwell, breaking off, bent eagerly to read the tape.
The words, in German, which came out upon it were: “Reply to 0740. Eight undersea boats are in Mediterranean. Message will be sent by wireless to Trieste and Pola for re-transmission. Any report from 6839? Await reply.”
Rodwell hesitated. The number quoted was that of his friend Mrs Kirby.
In a few moments he tapped out the reply.
“Number 6839 is in close touch with Minister, as reported by me a week ago. She will make cable report as soon as accurate information can be obtained. Our activity on the Clyde is progressing. The engineers are out and other branches of labour are threatening to strike. Unrest also in South Wales. Good work in progress there.”
Then, for some minutes, the instruments were silent, and he watched the receiver intently.
At last it again clicked, and the green tape once more began to unwind.