“There might be a way of enticing the German fleet into the open,” maintained the Colonial Minister. “Let us send an ironclad squadron to Heligoland and bombard the island and its fortifications until it crumbles into the sea. The acquisition of Heligoland was the Emperor William’s darling idea, and this monarch will take good care that Heligoland does not disappear from the earth’s surface. But if, in spite of the bombardment of Heligoland, the Germans do not come out into the open sea, let us send our fleet up the Elbe and lay Hamburg in ashes. Let our warships put to sea from Copenhagen and destroy Kiel harbour and all the German coast towns on the Baltic. Then the German fleet will soon enough put out to meet us!” “This plan has already been considered, and will perhaps be acted upon. There are, however, two difficulties in the way. First of all, by the destruction of unfortified towns we should be conjuring up odium against us, which--” “Nonsense! there is no ‘odium’ for a victor! England would never have attained its present might and grandeur had it allowed itself to be deterred by a too delicate regard for humanity and the law of nations from taking practical steps.” “Well, and then there is, at any rate, the second consideration.” “And that is, my lord?” “A battle of ships, even though they have the finest possible armour, against land fortifications, is always a hazardous undertaking, and more especially when the coasts are defended by innumerable mines and torpedo boats. Moreover, ironclads are very expensive, and are, in a certain sense, very fragile things.” “Fragile things?”