Reminiscences of the "Prince Henry Motor Tour" through England have not been exactly popular since August 1914--and any member mentioning His Imperial Highness's name had become at once taboo. The remembrance of that tour through the heat and dust of the Moselle valley, and afterwards from south to north of England, is still with me. My pilot in Germany was a certain Uhlan captain, who afterwards distinguished himself as responsible for the atrocities committed upon the poor inoffensive Belgians in Dinant, on the Meuse. The lives of seven hundred of those poor victims, men, women and children butchered in cold blood in the Grand Place outside the church with the bulgy spire cries out for vengeance upon that fair-haired spick-and-span Prussian who sat beside me for many days chatting so amiably in English, and assuring me that Germany would ever be Great Britain's firmest friend and ally. Ah! How cleverly were we all bamboozled! Whenever I entered the portals of the club I remembered, as many of my fellow-members did, how completely we were gulled and blinded by that horde of German secret agents who came to us as friends and fellow-motorists, and partook of our hospitality while actively plotting for our undoing. Lionel Eastwell sat discussing this with me one dark rainy afternoon. "There's no doubt that the Germans held out the hand of friendship and laughed up their sleeves," he said, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke upwards from his lips. "Now that one remembers, one grows furious at it all. I confess that I liked Germany and the Germans. My people went to Germany each summer, for the mater was a bit of a musician, and we usually drifted to Dresden. I suppose I inherited from her my love of music, and that's why I was sent to Dresden for a couple of years' tuition." "And did you never suspect?" I asked. "Remember what Lord Roberts and many others told us. Recollect how we were warned by men who had travelled, and who knew." "Of course I read all those speeches and writings, but I confess, Claude, that I laughed at them. I never dreamed that war would come-- not for another twenty years or more. I was lulled into a sense of false security, just as our Government and people were lulled." "True, Germany told us fables--pretty land, sea and air fables--and we were childish enough to believe them. If peace had been the Kaiser's object, why did Krupp's and Ehrhardt's work night and day and Count Zeppelin carry on his frantic work of building giant airships?" I queried. "The greatest block head in a village school, with the true facts before him, could have done nothing else than suspect. But we are such a smug and unsuspicious people. We never like to hear an unpleasant truth."