The other laughed. "Fools, yes, but arrogant fools, proud fools, dangerous fools too, in a way. They are what we are not, and what we are destined to be--a World Power. But the reckoning day has come."

"Do you think so? That is, do you think this is the right moment for the war? Of course it had to come--we had made up our minds to that; but don't you think William forced the pace too soon? Surely he meant to crush France, and control her navy before he angered the little dog which calls itself the British Lion. I had always reckoned England's turn would come about 1920."

"Perhaps you are right; but the result will be the same. Austria will deal with Russia and the Balkan States while William marches to Paris; then, when we have a repet.i.tion of 1870, we can go back and settle Russia."

"The English generally put up a good fight!"

"A p.r.i.c.ked bubble, my dear fellow. It took the whole British Empire four years to deal with about 70,000 Boer farmers; how then can it do anything against us? Aren't facts speaking aloud? In about three weeks we have armies within twenty miles of Paris. In another week that capital will be in our hands. What is the use of Kitchener's absurd army? Before it can do anything, England will be on its knees.

As for the French! Bah!"

"And meanwhile we play our little game here."

"Yes, John Bull may have the heart of a lion, but he hasn't the brains of a water-hen. Oh, John is hospitable, very hospitable. You and I, my dear Charles, with hundreds more, go around as Englishmen. Doesn't John scorn a spy? That's why we can go everywhere. At present I am London born, never having been out of England in my life. I know the Stock Exchange inside and out. I am a city man! And who suspects?

There are over 20,000 Germans in London, all registered, yes, _all_ registered. Meanwhile--eh?"

"But if we are beaten!"

"We can't be. It is impossible. The time-table will be kept. But oh, I can't help laughing! They never suspected our designs, never imagined the game we have been playing. They were just contented with their contemptible little army, and they allowed us to learn their secrets, not dreaming that England will be a va.s.sal state to Germany, and that all her colonies will be ours. But there is that other matter. I want to speak about it. You remember that at the close of the Boer War----"

During the whole time Bob had listened like a man in a dream. He felt as though he were standing on the brink of a precipice. His eyes were opened to truths that he never dreamt of. He saw that for years there had been a deliberate plot to conquer England, that the Kaiser had not only made Germany an armed camp, and had strained every nerve to construct the greatest and most powerful and complete fighting machine the world had ever known, but he had sent an army of spies to the country to learn her secrets and fasten upon her weaknesses. He realised that the Kaiser had been our enemy during all the years he had been pretending to be our friend. He had been spending vast sums of money on men and women who were willing to do the dirtiest kind of work, in order that he might cause our downfall.

His honest, straightforward nature revolted at it. These two men were spies, traitors. He wondered at their speaking so freely, that they had not taken greater precaution to make sure no one was near. But the room was peculiarly shaped, and it was difficult for them to see the recess in which he sat, hidden as it was by the huge palm. To all appearance the place was empty.

Again he acted on impulse. Forgetting the rights and wrongs of the situation, he felt he must act. Looking through the fronds of the palm, he saw that the two men were conversing eagerly. Behind him was a door, but where it led he did not know. He must get out without their being aware of his presence.

Silently he opened the door, and soon found himself in the domestic portion of the little hotel. A waiter looked at him questioningly.

Bob held up his finger to command silence.

"Show me to the manager, at once," he said.

The waiter instinctively felt how much in earnest he was, and obeyed him.

"This way, sir," he whispered.

"There are two German spies in the smoke-room," Bob said to the manager a minute later, and he explained how he had been led to this conclusion.

"Did you serve two men in the smoking-room?" asked the manager, turning to the waiter.

"Yes, sir, I served them each with a whisky-and-soda. But they are not Germans, sir, I'll swear to that."

"We'll see, anyhow," was the manager's response. "You guard your door carefully, and I'll go in at the public entrance. Will you come with me, sir."

The manager led Bob to the door by which he had first entered the room, and then they both entered silently.

The room was empty; the two men had gone.

"But can't we do anything?" asked Bob.

"What can we do, sir? If you were mistaken, then no harm is done. If you were not, they must have seen you leave the room, and then made their way out. I'll speak to the hall-porter. There are very few people here to-night, and he will know how many people have gone out during the last five minutes."

"Yes," the hall-porter declared a few seconds later, "two gentlemen have just gone out in a hurry. They said they were late for an appointment, and had to make haste."

"Did you recognise them?" asked the manager.

"I've seen them here once or twice before," was the porter's reply, "but I know nothing about them."

The manager looked at Bob in despair. "You see how it is, sir. I daresay you are right. London is just infested with them, and in spite of all our precautions they just laugh at us."

Bob went back to his chambers and tried to reflect on what he had heard. On reconsideration he supposed there was not so much in it all, but he was much disturbed nevertheless. He supposed every government had its secret information service, but the fact that this man calling himself Count von Weimer had by lies and fraud found his way into Admiral Tresize's house, and thereby obtained valuable information about our Navy, staggered him. From the conversation of the two men, moreover, it was evident that Germany had always meant to go to war with England, and had for years been preparing for it. The German army had evidently been built up for the express purpose, not of defence, but aggression. They had been waiting for years for a favourable opportunity, and then, when the time was ripe, to force the pace.

Oh, the madness, the criminal madness of it all!

But it was worse than madness. There was an awful danger about it all.

He opened the evening paper he had just bought, and read the staring headlines.

GERMAN ARMY WITHIN A FEW MILES OF PARIS.

FRENCH GOVERNMENT REMOVED TO BORDEAUX.

Of course all sorts of theories were propounded. This was all strategy on the part of General Joffre and Sir John French. They were trying to draw the Germans from their base of supplies, and that done, would pounce upon them, and annihilate them.

All this, however, was very unsatisfactory. The truth was, the German Legions were sweeping all before them.

He turned to an article copied from an American paper, written by a man who had been admitted into the German lines, and who had gone into the very heart of the German Headquarters. Bob found his muscles hardening as he read. The article in graphic language described the countless hordes in the German army. It told how the writer rode hour after hour in a swiftly moving motor-car, always through this great seething ma.s.s of the best-trained soldiers in the world. They were not ill-fed weaklings, either; but young, stalwart, well-fed, strong, the flower of the German nation.

The camp was a vast moving city of fighting men. Everything was perfectly arranged to the minutest detail. Nothing was lacking. Every need was supplied as if by magic. The discipline and order were perfect. The soldiers were confident and happy.

How could these legions be overcome? Were they not, as the German General had said, invincible?

"See the accuracy of our big guns," said the General to the newspaper correspondent. "You see that windmill three miles away. Now watch."

An order was given, and then as if by magic a great gun was directed towards the distant object. A few seconds later there was a tremendous explosion, and the windmill was shattered to atoms.

That was it! Germany was a huge fighting machine, and with it the Kaiser and his minions intended to rule the world!

And if he did? Supposing Germany won in the war, as she was determined to win? What would be the result? Where would all Bob's dreams and visions of Universal Peace be?

"No, no!" cried Bob aloud, as if he were answering some pleading voice of his own heart, "I tell you I can't. The whole thing is ghastly, h.e.l.lish! It would be to fight the devil with the devil's weapons. If I did, I should have to give up my faith in Christ and His salvation.

The sword would take the place of the Cross. I should have to say that the life and work of Christ are a miserable fiasco, that He Himself was an idle dreamer. There is no possibility for a man who believes in the New Testament to take part in this h.e.l.lish business!"

But if he only could!

All his patriotism, his love of home and country, called to him. For a moment the longing to take his part in helping England to drive back this huge fighting octopus, which was longing to stretch out its tentacles all over Europe, became a pa.s.sion.

But no, he could not, he simply could not. He was trying to be a Christian, and no man who followed the Christ Who said "Love your enemies; . . . if a man strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also," could volunteer to take part in this b.l.o.o.d.y welter of the nations! He had been true to his principles so far, and he would continue to be true.

But the cost!