Entwistle tried St. Boswell's Junction, with the result that a man answering his description had left the train, and had booked for York, via Alnwick and Alnmouth. The clue was developing into a man-hunt after Entwistle's own heart. It afforded him scant satisfaction to attain his object with little trouble. The greater the obstacles, the keener became his interest. "'Fraid I don't want you again," he remarked to the waiting chauffeur, as he paid him. Inquiries resulted in the information that there was a fast train through to Carlisle, whence it was possible to arrive at York within twenty minutes of the East Coast express. Entwistle, having had time to make a satisfying meal, was retracing his course. Luck was against him. It was not until about eight on the following morning that he alighted on York platform. His first step was to make inquiries at the Postal Censor's Office. On presentation of his card, he was allowed to scan the duplicates of telegraphic messages sent during the preceding twelve or fifteen hours. There was nothing to excite suspicion. The foreign cables proved more fruitful, especially one from "Messrs. Grabnut & Plywrench to Mynheer Jakob van Doornzylt, woollen merchant, of Amsterdam." The message was in plain English (according to war time regulations), and referred to a consignment of merchandise about to be dispatched from Leith to Ymuiden. On the duplicate was an official stamp "Passed by Censor." "Has this been dispatched?" asked Entwistle. "Yes," replied the postal official. "It was held back for three hours according to procedure when dealing with foreign cablegrams, and was sent off at 7.50 P.M. yesterday." Entwistle, having provided himself with a copy, went to a desk in a secluded corner of the large room. "Close bales 251 in number--" began the message. Consulting his code-book (the identical one that he had taken from the spy von Eitelwurmer), Entwistle began his translation. "Close" signified "disguised," "bale" was the counterpart of "Q-boat," and so on. In ten minutes the secret message stood revealed as follows:-- "Q-boat disguised as U 251 left Leith on 9th for Hoorn Reefs.--VON PREUSSEN." That was all--but sufficient to lure "Tough Geordie" Morpeth and his gallant comrades into a veritable death-trap. CHAPTER XXIII "PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE ACTION" THE Admiral's secretary at Auldhaig stood at the Commander-in-Chief's elbow. It was close on lunch-time, and the Admiral had still a bulky though fast diminishing pile of documents either to sign or initial before he could complete his morning's work. But, being mortal, even the Commander-in-Chief was hungry, and consequently short-tempered. "What is it, Elphinhaye?" he demanded tartly. "Can't you deal with it yourself?" "'Fraid not, sir," replied the secretary, still proffering the newly-arrived telegram. "What is it?" asked the Admiral again. "Who's it from?" "Entwistle? Never heard of him."