The Intelligence Department of the War Office--that Department so belauded by Mr. McKenna--certainly did not display an excess of zeal in the case of signalling in Surrey, for, to my two letters begging that inquiry be made as a matter of urgency, I was not even vouchsafed the courtesy of a reply. Yet I was not surprised, for in a case at the end of January in which two supposed Belgian refugees, after living in one of our biggest seaports and making many inquiries there, being about to escape to Antwerp, I warned that same Department and urged that they should be questioned before leaving London. I gave every detail, even to the particular boat by which they were leaving for Flushing. No notice, however, was taken of my report, and not until _three days after they had left for the enemy's camp_ did I receive the usual _printed acknowledgment_ that my report had been received!" That night-signalling has long been in progress in the South of England is shown by the following. Written by a well-known gentleman, it reached me while engaged in my investigations in Surrey. He says: "The following facts have been brought to my notice, and may be of interest to you. In the first week of October six soldiers were out on patrol duty around Folkestone looking for spies--always on night-duty. "One night they saw Morse signalling going on on a hill along the sea outside Folkestone. The signalling was in code. They divided into two parties of three, and proceeded to surround the place. On approaching, a shot was heard, and a bullet went through the black oilskin coat of one man (they were all wearing these over their khaki). They went on and discovered two Germans with a strong acetylene lamp, one of them having a revolver with six chambers, and one discharged, also ten spare rounds of ammunition. "They secured them and took them to the police station, but all that happened was that they were shut up in a concentration camp! This story was told me by one of the six who were on duty, and assisted at the capture." To me, there is profound mystery in the present disinclination of the Intelligence Department of the War Office to institute inquiry. As a voluntary worker in that department under its splendid chief, Col. G.W.M. Macdonogh--now, alas! transferred elsewhere--my modest reports furnished from many places, at home and abroad, always received immediate attention and a private letter of thanks written in the Chief's own hand. On the outbreak of war, however, red-tape instantly showed itself, and I received a letter informing me that I must, in future, address myself to the Director of Military Operations--the department which is supposed to deal with spies.