"The Conference has started, Herr von Eitelwurmer," announced the secretary. "I could not inform you before as the Kapitan-leutnant was engaged." The spy returned to the council-room. Seated at a long table were the Zeppelin commanders. As each made his report the statement was taken down by an official shorthand writer, while the aviators were subjected to a stiff examination by the Director of Intelligence. Some were most emphatic in their statements. They knew exactly where they had been; others were not so sure, but believed that they had been to such and such a town; others, somewhat indiscreetly but honestly, confessed that they had lost their bearings. All were agreed, however, that the Yorkshire towns of Brigborough and Broadbeck had been missed by the raiding aircraft. "It seems pretty certain that the geography of the English authorities is at fault," commented the Director. "They report that our Zeppelins visited a North Midland county--that referred to your part of the business, von Loringhoven; I always thought that Lancashire was one of the six northern counties of England: let us hope that some day it will be one of a German dependency. However, we'll issue a report that our airships bombed Brigborough and Broadbeck. Then these English will think that you do not know where you have been, and that is exactly what we want them to think. Now, von Papen, draw up a suitable report for home consumption. In these strenuous times we must satisfy the public demands. It will keep the common people quiet for a time, and, if they _do_ find out, there may then be something good to detract their attention." The spy smiled grimly. He recalled a saying quoted by a German officer to his captor: "We Germans can never be gentlemen--you English will always be fools." The first part held good, but as for the second, his residence in Great Britain had taught him that behind the apathy of the British nation there was Something--a Something that, when aroused, would form more than a match for the cunning and brutality of his fellow countrymen. Reluctantly he had to admit that. "Why do you smile?" asked the Director, fixing von Eitelwurmer with his eye. "I was thinking," replied the spy. "Thinking of how I can get back to England. My good work there is not yet completed." "Those twenty thousand marks, hein?" enquired the president, and the rest of the assembly laughed uproariously at the director's jest. CHAPTER XIII EXIT SEAPLANE No. 445B "WHY did I leave my comfortable bunk and try my hand at fishing at night upon the wild North Sea?" enquired Lieutenant Fuller as he withdrew his benumbed hands from his airman's gauntlets and fumbled ineffectually for his electric torch. "Dash it all, man! What are you fiddling about with?" "Only that releasing lever," replied Kirkwood from the depths of the fuselage. "That confounded Zep! If only the blessed thing hadn't jibbed I'd have strafed her, sure as fate."