"Read!" he cried again. "Read, all of you, how seven hundred innocent men, women and children were shot in cold blood in the picturesque little town of Dinant, on the Meuse; read of the massacres and mutilations at Louvain, Tamines, Termonde and Malines--and then reflect! Think what would be the fate of your own women and children should the German army land upon these shores! The Germans did not hate the Belgians--they had no reason whatever to do so. But the hatred in Germany against the British race to-day amounts to a religion, and if ever the Germans come, depend upon it that the awful massacres in Belgium will be repeated with tenfold vigour, until the streets of every English town and village run red with the blood of your dearly-loved ones. Young men!" he shouted, "I ask you whether you will still stand by and see these awful outrages done, whether you will be content to witness the mutilation and murder of those dearest to your hearts, or whether, before it is too late, you will come forward, now, and at once, and bear your manly share in the crushing out for ever of this ogre of barbarism which has arisen as a terrible and imminent menace to Europe, and to the thousand years of the building up of our civilisation." In conclusion he made a fervent, stirring appeal to his hearers--an appeal in which sounded a true ring of heartfelt patriotism, and in consequence of which many young men came forward and gave in their names for enlistment. And Lewin Rodwell laughed within himself. A dozen men congratulated him upon his splendid speech, and as Charles Trustram sat by his side, on their drive back to the West End, he could not refrain from expressing admiration of the speech. "Ah!" laughed Rodwell. "I merely try to do my little bit when I can. It is what we should all do in these black days. There is a big section of the public that doesn't yet realise that we are at war; they must be taught, and shown what invasion would really mean. The lesson of poor stricken Belgium cannot be too vividly brought home to such idiots as we have about us." As the car dashed past Aldgate, going west, Trustram caught sight of the contents-bill of a late edition of one of the evening papers. In large letters was the bold announcement, "Air Raids on Colchester, Braintree and Coggeshall." "The Zeppelins have been over again!" he remarked, telling Rodwell what he had just read. "When?" "Last night, I suppose." "Didn't you know anything of it at the Admiralty?" asked Rodwell. "I heard nothing before I left this evening," Trustram replied. The pair smoked together for an hour in Rodwell's room in Bruton Street; and during that time the conversation turned upon the arrest of Jack Sainsbury, Trustram expressing surprise that he had not yet been brought to trial.