“Stupid jackasses, miserable, bat-eyed swine-hound!” I cried. “Have you not the highest instructions in your pockets to avoid bombing an Intelligence Officer?” The cursed thing passed overhead. It was roaring like a railway train passing through a tunnel. I saw the bulk of it outlined against the stars and then I saw something else, a little black dot that moved and swayed against the sky. I thought it might be some infernal machine and I nearly fainted. Understand that my chief thought was of Germany. I had no fear for myself. I was merely a cog in the wheel of the great machine and stood ready at all hours and all days to sacrifice myself for our dear Deutschland. Fortunately, there was a fallen tree in my neighbourhood, and under this I crept, looking out from time to time to see what had happened to the strange thing in the air. Then I heard a thud, a rustle, and an oath, and I jumped up, bruising the back of my head against the tree-trunk, and ran toward the sound, for that oath was in good German. “Whars dar?” called a sharp voice. “It is I, Heine,” I replied. “Oh, good,” said the voice in German. “You are on the spot, I see. Help free me from this doubly rotten parachute.” I made my way to him and helped unbuckle some of the straps that fastened him, and presently he was free. “Have you got a pocket lamp?” he asked. “No, perhaps you had better not use it. Where can I put the parachute?” I suggested the tree under which I had been--I won’t say hiding, let me rather say taking cover. “Have you a car?” he asked. “No,” I replied. “You are an ass,” said he; “why haven’t you a car?” I knew by the imperiousness of his tone that he was a true German gentleman, probably highly born and connected by many social ties with an old family of Prussia. “I am the Baron von Treutzer,” he said, as though answering my thoughts, “and I have been sent here to survey the damage that was done in the last raid.” “Your Excellency will discover that I have spoken nothing but the truth,” I said humbly. The sound of the Zeppelin’s engines, which had diminished, was now increasing in volume. “Is the airship returning?” I asked. “Yes, yes,” he said testily. He took from his pocket a small electric lamp and flashed it three times in the air and immediately after three tiny sparks of light showed in the sky. “They won’t be dropping any more bombs, Herr Baron?” I asked carelessly. “Good heavens! What does it matter if they do?” he boomed--he was a booming kind of man, born to command, typical of our virile aristocracy which has placed Germany in the forefront of world-nations. “I only asked,” I said. “I am a mere observer.” “We only dropped a few bombs,” he said, “just to explain our presence. The real business of our visit is here.” I heard him slap his chest in the darkness. “I did not know where the raid was intended,” I said, “or I would have arranged for a leader.” “A leader?” he asked. “What the devil do you mean?”