“Mr. Edestone looked as if he meant serious business all right,” said one of the officers. “Listen! I hear the wireless sending a message now.” Lawrence listened, and repeated as he heard: “The Little Peace Maker is now running for Kiel, where she will arrive at 8:30. At 8:45 I will begin to drop tons of lyddite and dynamite on the decks of all German ships of war, and in order that there may be no unnecessary loss of life I give this notice.” The instrument stopped, but Lawrence continued, as if still catching and translating the message: “And realizing the extreme supersensitiveness of the German sailors, we are sending ahead by Parcel Post baskets for the cats and cages for the canaries. The women and babies, being contraband, must go down with the ships.” They were now slowly swinging around the Palace, and as the people of Berlin knew nothing, they took the accepted German position, which was that Edestone was afraid of the Kaiser’s wrath, and they therefore came flocking out into the streets to see him dip his flag to that of the all-powerful German Empire. Lawrence noted that the Imperial standard was no longer flying over the Palace. “It looks,” said he, “as if we would have to put in an under-study for the leading man.” And then as if some sudden idea had struck him, he rushed from the bridge, and while the Little Peace Maker was slowly passing over the plaza in front of the Palace, the men on the bridge saw with a mingled feeling of horror and delight a large black object, which resembled a submarine mine, dropping from the port side of the ship, and they stood in breathless expectation of seeing the hideous Renaissance monument, erected by Schluter, blown to atoms. When the sinister-looking cylinder struck the pavement it exploded, but instead of death and destruction the flaggings were strewn with egg-shells, coffee-grounds, and garbage. “I always did like that French chef,” said Lawrence when he returned to the bridge, gasping for breath. “I am sorry,” he added, “that we didn’t have our little lynching bee this afternoon, but the sinking of a billion dollars’ worth of battleships must be almost as much fun as hanging a ‘kink.’” They were now going at top speed, and after waiting about for some time and finding that Edestone did not return to the bridge, he went to his room and dressed for dinner. At dinner Edestone appeared, but he was very quiet. “Lawrence,” he said, “you must forgive me, but I really am not myself. I cannot recall at any time in my entire life when I was ever so angry as I was this afternoon. I think they call it ‘seeing red.’” “You were ‘seeing red’ all right,” said Lawrence, “and you certainly got my goat.” “If one of the men on this ship had been killed, after that pledge had been given for their safety, I do not know what I would have done.” “Exactly what do you propose to do?”