“Now you understand,” I cried passionately, “no wonder you have waited in vain upon the beach! No wonder the four submarines disappeared! No wonder you were allowed to remain at liberty! These cursed, treacherous British! Was there ever a nation that more deserved to be obliterated?” I made my plans quickly, as is my wont. Before leaving that night I gave the Herr Lieutenant another £50, making £100 he had received since his escape. I myself was in considerable danger and if Hagan suspected me, the traitorous Kathleen knew me. I sent a man especially to Dublin and discovered that they were staying at an hotel in Sackville Street and that so far from Hagan having arrived recently, both he and his wife had been in Dublin for six months and they were undoubtedly in the pay of the British Government. Of the events which occurred on Easter Monday in Dublin, I do not propose to speak. I sent very full reports to the Government, which may be read with profit by any who have the entrée to the archives in Wilhelmstrasse. Two days after the rebellion started I saw Hagan and his wife in Regent Street, they were looking in the window of a jeweller’s shop. With me to think is to act. I stepped up to her and offered her my hand. “Congratulations, Mrs. Hagan,” I said. “Sure, ’tis the little Dutchman, Mr. Heine,” she smiled. “You know my husband?” “I have that pleasure.” I bowed stiffly and hid my emotions behind an inscrutable face. “And what are you doing in an enemy’s country?” asked Kathleen innocently. “Enemy!” I laughed bitterly. “There was a time, madam, when there was only one enemy for the honorary secretary of a German-Gaelic club and that was--England!” “There is only one enemy for me now,” she said, gripping her husband’s arm foolishly, “and that is Theo’s enemy. Sure, a wild young girl never knows her own mind, Mr. Heine, and she runs this way and that way with divil an idea what she is seeking. I guess I was seeking Theo, and now I’ve found him I have stopped hustling.” We exchanged a few words. I strolled with them to Piccadilly Circus and they accepted my invitation to lunch at Prince’s. “By the way,” I said in the midst of the meal, “do you still keep up your cryptograph investigations?” I thought I saw a little look pass between her and her husband and then she smiled. “Oh, yes,” she said, she may have said “sure” (I will not swear as to the exact words of any dialogue which I report), “oh, yes, faith it’s highly amusing.” “And profitable, too, I suppose,” I said carelessly, helping myself to some celery. “Faith, it is that,” she said; “many is the laugh I have had going through silly ciphers that come from Germany--bad cess to the place, and from Scotland too,” she said. You observe she was shameless! There was no flush of guilt, no faltering, no lowering of eyes. She stood detected, blatantly confessed, an agent of the English!