s agents in both capitals had that morning
arrived at Downing Street post-haste and reported upon what was in
progress, with the result that their chief had come to place before the
Foreign Minister the latest iniquity of diplomatic juggling.

His lordship lay in bed and listened to the man of secrets without
uttering a word.

At length he turned his head restlessly on the pillow and, with a weary
sigh, remarked:

"Ah! Darnborough, I fear that each day brings us nearer the peril,
nearer the day of Germany's attack. The exposure of those confidential
reports upon our naval manoeuvres was serious enough to our
diplomacy. The policy of the Government is, alas! one of false assurance
in our defences. The country has been lulled to sleep far too long.
False assurances of our national security have been given over and over
again, and upon them the Cabinet have pursued a policy of bluff. But,
alas! the days of Palmerston and Salisbury are past. Europe can gauge
the extent and strength of our national defence, and, with the
navigation of the air, we live no longer upon 'the tight little island'
of our revered ancestors."

"Yes," replied the man seated in the chair by the bedside, as he
stretched his legs forward and folded his arms. "In all the capitals it
is to-day the fashion to laugh at England's greatness, and to speak of
us as a declining Power. I hear it everywhere. The Great Powers are in
daily expectation of seeing the tail of the British lion badly twisted,
and I quite agree that the most unfortunate leakage of a national secret
was that report upon the last naval manoeuvres. The bubble of our
defensive and offensive power has burst."

"And poor Richard Harborne lost his life," remarked the Earl.

"Yes," replied the other, thoughtfully.

"He was a fine fellow, Darnborough--a very fine young fellow. He came to
see me once or twice upon confidential matters. You sent him to Mexico,
you'll remember, and he came to report to me personally. I was much
struck by his keen foresight and cleverness. Have you gained any further
information concerning his mysterious end?"

"I have made a good many inquiries, both at home and abroad, but
Harborne seems to have been something of a mystery himself. He was
strangely reserved, and something of a recluse in private life--lived in
chambers in the Temple when not travelling abroad, and kept himself very
much to himself."

"For any reason?"

"None, as far as I can tell. He wa