regulations, the British navy had shut off every point through which these German ships could have escaped to safety--except the entrance to the Dardanelles. Had England, immediately on the declaration of war, rushed a powerful squadron to this vital spot, how different the history of the last three years might have been! “His Majesty expects the _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ to succeed in breaking through!” Such was the wireless that reached these vessels at Messina at five o’clock on the evening of August 4th. The twenty-four hours’ stay permitted by the Italian Government had nearly expired. Outside, in the Strait of Otranto, lay the force of British battle cruisers, sending false radio messages to the Germans, instructing them to rush for Pola. With bands playing and flags flying, the officers and crews having had their spirits fired by oratory and drink, the two vessels started at full speed toward the awaiting British fleet. The little _Gloucester_, a scout boat, kept in touch, wiring constantly the German movements to the main squadron. Suddenly, when off Cape Spartivento, the _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ let off into the atmosphere all the discordant vibrations which their wireless could command, jamming the air with such a hullabaloo that the _Gloucester_ was unable to send any intelligible messages. Then the German cruisers turned southward and made for the Ægean Sea. The plucky little _Gloucester_ kept close on their heels, and, as my daughter had related, once had even audaciously offered battle. A few hours behind the British squadron pursued, but uselessly, for the German ships, though far less powerful in battle, were much speedier. Even then the British admiral probably thought that he had spoiled the German plans. The German ships might get first to the Dardanelles, but at that point stood international law across the path, barring the entrance.