This story--which contains a moral for those fearful folk who exalt everything German--was told to me by Richard Cary, the accomplished naval correspondent of a big paper in the North of England. I have known him and his enthusiasm for the White Ensign for twenty years. He springs from an old naval stock, the Carys of North Devon, and has devoted his life to the study of the Sea Service. He had for so long been accustomed to move freely among shipyards and navymen, and was trusted so completely, that the veil of secrecy which dropped in August 1914 between the Fleets and the world scarcely existed for him. Everything which he desired to know for the better understanding of the real work of the Navy came to him officially or unofficially. When, therefore, he states that the Naval Notes with which this story deals would have been of incalculable value to the enemy, I accept his word without hesitation. I have myself seen some of them and they made me tremble--for Cary’s neck. I pressed him to write this story himself, but he refused. ‘No,’ said he, ‘I have told you the yarn just as it happened; write it yourself. I am a dull dog, quite efficient at handling hard facts and making scientific deductions from them, but with no eye for the picturesque details. I give it to you.’ He rose to go--Cary had been lunching with me--but paused for an instant upon my front doorstep. ‘If you insist upon it,’ added he, smiling, ‘I don’t mind sharing in the plunder.’ * * * * *