“Assuming,” I said, “that it is a professed German object to draw a portion of the English Fleet into a situation where it can be advantageously engaged, what would be the natural course for them to pursue? The first and perhaps the simplest form of ruse would be to dangle a squadron before the English Fleet, so that our fastest units should be drawn away from their supports, and enticed within reach of a superior German force. If we suppose the Scarborough raid to be carried out by a squadron used for this purpose, we must look upon that episode not merely as an example of Germany practising its much-loved frightfulness, but as an exercise in wiliness as well. That the Admiralty had taken every step it could think of to catch and destroy this squadron, we may safely infer from the character of the communications made to us. The measures adopted were, we also know, frustrated by the thick weather, so that no engagement actually took place. Is it not highly probable that the Germans, not knowing the character of the English counter-stroke, may have concluded that our failure to bring their squadron to action was brought about quite as much by prudence as by ill-luck? At any rate, it is rather a curious phenomenon that the German papers during the last two weeks have been filled with the most furious articles descanting upon the pusillanimity of the British Fleet. To our eyes such charges, of course, seem absurd, nor when we know how welcome the appearance of the German Fleet in force would be to Admiral Jellicoe and his gallant comrades can we conceive any sane man using such language; but if we interpret this as the expression of disappointed hopes, as evidence of the failure of a plan to catch a portion of our Fleet, a reasonable explanation of what is otherwise merely nonsense is afforded.