The white-haired veteran, who had spent his early youth fighting his country's battles on the Empire's frontiers, and, in later days, had devoted all his energies to the furthering of Britain's supremacy on the seas, passed one strong hand over his lined brow. He swallowed like a man choking back an emotion threatening to overwhelm him. Then the flush died out of his rugged cheeks, and he smiled at the son he loved, and who was his one remaining relative. "Forgive me, my boy, but--but all I've said is true. I don't think many will deny it. Anyway those who do are lying to their own consciences, or--or are purblind in their insane egoism." Ruxton smiled responsively and thrust back his chair. "There's no forgiveness needed, Dad," he said. "You have quoted but a few of the hundred signs, of which we all have proof, that when war broke out patriotism had only the smallest possible part in the life of this country. From the beginning to the end of this war England has had to pay out of her coffers, to those of her people whose services she needed, a price so extortionate that one wonders if it is not all some hideous nightmare and in truth unreal. But tell me, Dad," he went on after a pause, "you spoke just now of inventors, and your manner suggested that there was something--important." Sir Andrew rose from the table and led the way towards the distant folding doors. "Well, I don't know if it will prove to be anything--worth while." He fumbled at an inner pocket of his dinner coat, and produced a letter written on thin paper. When they reached the great hall and stood under the brilliant electrolier he unfolded it and held it out for his son's perusal. "I get lots of them," he said almost apologetically, "and few enough turn out worth while. This one reads a little different. That's all." "Sir, "You are a great shipmaster. You owned a fleet of merchant shipping when war broke out of forty-two coastwise and thirty-five ocean-going ships. At the end of the war you owned thirteen coastwise and twenty-one ocean-going traders. I have a means of saving you any such loss by submarine in the future. May I be permitted to show you my invention? "Truly yours, "Charles Smith. "P.S.--Absolute secrecy is necessary. A simple 'yes' addressed by wire to Veevee, London, will be sufficient." "The wording of it is so unusual that it--interested me," Sir Andrew went on, as Ruxton began to read the letter a second time. Presently the younger man looked up from his reading. "That's your imagination working, Dad," he said, smiling. Then he added: "Let it work. Let it run riot. That's what we want in England--now. I should see this man. I think he is a foreigner--in spite of his English name." The John Bull face of the elder man wreathed into a warm smile as he looked up at his towering son. "I had decided to," he said quietly.