Von Eitelwurmer was trying to muster up courage to earn single-handed the reward offered by his Imperial Master for the obliterance of the man whose writings had so greatly offended the Potsdam Potentate who was seeking in vain for a place in the Sun. The spy had a wholesome dread of British justice should he bungle in the attempt and find himself under arrest. He had been told by the authorities at Berlin that he must not expect further co-operation by means of a Zeppelin. Evidently the rough handling the German aerial squadron had met with on the return journey had upset the hitherto implicit faith of the Huns in this branch of frightfulness. Since, then, von Eitelwurmer had no opportunity of getting Peter Barcroft conveyed to Germany, he set about a means to "remove" him. After all, he decided, half the reward was better than nothing. In his many conversations with Peter the spy never mentioned the subject of their meeting at Bigthorpe; and Barcroft, putting down his reticence to a fear of being rallied on his mental lapse, studiously avoided any reference to the event. Nor did von Eitelwurmer say a word on the subject of the raid. In fact, he had never discussed the war with the tenant of Ladybird Fold, and had shown such a casual disinterestedness whenever Peter had touched upon the matter that the omission to say a word about the Zeppelin's visit to Barborough occasioned no surprise. "Haven't you a double-barrel?" inquired Peter as the spy brought out a twelve-bore single-barrelled sporting gun with a breech action resembling that of a Martini rifle. "If I had known I could have lent you one--a hard-hitting choke bore." "Thanks all the same," replied von Eitelwurmer. "I'm used to this. I've got in two shots at a running rabbit before to-day. Where are you making for?" "Over the moors towards Windyhill," replied Barcroft, signing to the two dogs to come to heel. "We'll cut through the Dingle Dell. It's a bit rough going, but we'll save a mile or so." The Dingle Dell was a narrow valley between two rugged cliffs of Millstone Grit. Through the defile rushed a foaming mountain stream fed by the recent rains and now possessing a tremendous volume of water. Centuries of erosion had worn the rocks that confine the torrent to its course to a remarkable smoothness, while the water as it leapt from one level to another had undermined the banks almost throughout the entire length of the Dingle Dell. Tarleigh Moors had been experiencing a variety of weather during the last fortnight. Following the heavy rain came a hard frost that in turn gave place to the first of the winter snow. Although most of the white mantle had disappeared, patches of snow still remained in the sheltered sides of the valleys, while in the Dingle Dell the trees still retained their seared and yellow leaves.