“Of course we do--a child can see it--if we are to guard our two seaboards. We must have a fleet in the Atlantic strong enough to resist any probable attack from the East, and another fleet in the Pacific strong enough to resist any probable attack from the West. “But listen to this, think of this,” the veteran warrior leaned towards me, shaking an eager fore-finger. “At the present moment our entire fleet, if massed off Long Island, would be inferior to a fleet that Germany could send across the Atlantic against us by many ships, many submarines and many aeroplanes. And hopelessly inferior in men and ammunition, including torpedoes.” As I listened I felt myself falling under the spell of the Admiral’s eloquence. He was so sure of what he said. These dangers unquestionably existed, but--were they about to descend upon America? Must we really face the horrors of a war of invasion? “Your arguments are very convincing, sir, and yet--” I hesitated. “Well?” “You speak as if these things were going to happen _right now,_ but there are no signs of war, no clouds on the horizon.” The Admiral waved this aside with an impatient gesture. “I tell you the blow will come suddenly. Were there any clouds on the European horizon in July, 1914? Yet a few persons knew, just as I have known for months, that war was inevitable.” “Known?” I repeated. Very deliberately the grizzled sea fighter lighted a fresh cigar before replying. “Mr. Langston, I’ll tell you a little story that explains why I am posing as a prophet. You can put it in your memoirs some day--if my prophecy comes true. It’s the story of an American naval officer, a young lieutenant, who--well, he went wrong about a year ago. He got into the clutches of a woman spy in the employ of a foreign government. He met this woman in Marseilles on our last Mediterranean cruise and fell in love with her--hopelessly. She’s one of those devilish sirens that no full-blooded man can resist and, the extraordinary part of it is, she fell in love with him--genuinely in love. “Well--it was a bad business. This officer gave the woman all he had, told her all he knew, and finally he asked her to marry him. Yes. He didn’t care what she was. He just wanted her. And she was so happy, so crazy about him, that she almost yielded; she was ready to turn over a new leaf, to settle down as his wife, but--” “But she didn’t do it?” I smiled. The Admiral shook his head. “He was a poor man--just a lieutenant’s pay and she couldn’t give up her grand life. But she loved him enough to try to save him, enough to leave him. She wrote him a wonderful letter, poured her soul out to him, gave him certain military secrets of the government she was working for--they would have shot her in a minute, you understand, if they had known it--and she told him to take this information as a proof of her love and use it to save the United States.” I was listening now with absorbed interest. “What government was she working for?”