Mr. Fischer sat quite still for several moments. He was struggling very hard to keep his temper. In the end he succeeded. "We will not, then, pursue the subject of America's neutrality," he said, "because it is obvious that we disagree fundamentally. But tell me this, now, as an American and a patriot. Which do you think would be better for America--That Germany and Austria won this war, or the Allies?" "Upon that question I have not altogether made up my mind," Pamela confessed. "Then there is room there for a discussion," Mr. Fischer pointed out eagerly. "I should like to put my views before you on this matter." "And I should love to hear them," Pamela replied, "but I feel just now as though we had talked enough politics. Do you know that I came up on deck in a state of great agitation?" "Submarine alarms from the stewardess?" Mr. Fischer suggested. "I am not afraid of submarines, but I have a most profound dislike for thieves," Pamela declared. "You have not had anything stolen?" he asked quickly. "I have not," Pamela replied, "but the only reason seems to be that I have nothing worth stealing. When I got back from luncheon this afternoon I found that my stateroom had been systematically searched." She turned her head a little lazily and looked at her neighbour. His expression was entirely sympathetic. "Your jewellery?" "Deposited with the purser." "I congratulate you," he said. "Nothing has been stolen," she observed, "but one hates the feeling of insecurity, all the same. Both my steward and stewardess are old friends. It must have been a very clever person who found his way into my room." "A very clever person," Mr. Fischer objected, "would have known that you had deposited your jewels with the purser." "If it was my jewels of which they were in search," Pamela murmured. "By the bye, do you remember all that fuss about the disappearance of a young soldier that morning at Henry's?" Fischer nodded. "I heard something about it," he confessed. "They were talking about it at dinner-time." "I had an idea that you might be interested," Pamela went on. "He was rather a foolish young man. He came into the restaurant telling every one at the top of his voice that he had made a great discovery! Even in London, which is, I should think, the most prosaic city in the world, there must be people who are on the lookout to pick up war secrets." "Even in London, as you remark," Fischer assented. "You didn't hear the end of the affair, I suppose?" she asked him. The steward had arrived with afternoon tea. Fischer threw into the sea the cigar which he had been smoking. "I do not think," he said, "that the end has been reached yet." Pamela sighed. "Les oreilles ennemies!" she quoted. "I suppose one has to be careful everywhere." CHAPTER VIII