"I am sorry that Miss Patrine has been tempted to follow the fashion. But I regret still more her choice of friends! I refer to the German officer in whose company your niece arrived here, in a yellow Darracq car, about half-an-hour ago." The speaker made sure, with a rapid glance to right and left, that no listener was standing near them, and added: "I know that I may trust you as myself in any private or official matter. Between ourselves frankly, I am here to-day for the purpose of—keeping an eye on this particular man!" The Doctor’s vivid blue eyes darted rapier-points at the other, from caves that had suddenly been dug about them. The General went on: "The man himself is no common spy, though he may on occasion act as an agent or post-box for Secret Intelligence communications. He is an extraordinarily able young officer, a squadron captain in their Field Flying Service, with some astonishing records to his credit, though he was an Engineer Lieutenant in 1907 when he came to England as chauffeur-officer attached to the Kaiser’s Personal Staff. For a comprehensible reason his superiors desired him to improve his knowledge of the topography of the British Isles. He certainly did so, but"—the keen eyes twinkled—"the record runs accomplished by von Herrnung with the All Highest as passenger, were not unattended, or unobserved by us. That he is well-born and well-looking is undeniable, and these advantages, with other social gifts, may easily attract your niece, like any other of Eve’s daughters. But to say the least it is inadvisable that she should encourage the advances of this man, or of any other German officer,—when the next forty-eight hours may see Britain and Germany at grips in War." "That is your opinion?" "It is my plain, unvarnished opinion, speaking as one of those who are admitted behind the scenes. Not that I am infallible, but the Signs and the Tokens all lead one way." He lifted his lean brown hand and pointed eastwards. "For years they have been making ready, but now—what a frenzy of ordered preparation. What secret councils, what reiteration of orders, what accumulations of stores, what roaring of electric furnaces—I’d give my little finger to know what chemical they’re making in huge bulk at the Badische Anilin-und-Soda Fabrik, and hundreds of other dye and bleaching-powder works in Germany and Austria!—every one backed up by the German Imperial State or the Dual Monarchy on the understanding that at the signal, they are to turn to and turn out—what? Benzine for phenol, phenol for picric, and toluene for Super-Explosive, that’s understood. But this stuff puzzles me. Do you see the Senile Arc in my eyes yet, Saxham? It must be that I’m getting old!" He smiled his whimsical smile and went on: