re
isn't a single contentious question before us just now. The sky is
almost clear."

"Believe me," Wyatt insisted earnestly, "that's just the time to look for
the thunderbolt. Can't you see that when Germany goes to war, it will be
a war of conquest, the war which she has planned for all these years?
She'll choose her own time, and she'll make a _casus belli_, right
enough, when the time comes. Of course, she'd have taken advantage of the
position last year, but she simply wasn't ready. If you ask me, I believe
she thinks herself now able to lick the whole of Europe. I am not at all
sure, thanks to Busby and our last fifteen years' military
administration, that she wouldn't have a good chance of doing it. Any
way, I am not going to have my fleet cut down."

"The country is prosperous," Hebblethwaite acknowledged. "We can afford
the ships."

"Then look here, old chap," Wyatt begged, "I am not pleading for my own
sake, but the country's. Keep your mouth shut. See what the next month or
two brings. If there's trouble--well, I don't suppose I shall be jumped
on then. If there isn't, and you want a victim, here I am. I disobeyed
orders flagrantly. My resignation is in my desk at any moment."

Hebblethwaite glanced at the clock.

"I am very hungry," he said, "and I have a long way to go for dinner.
We'll let it go at that, Wyatt. I'll try and keep things quiet for you.
If it comes out, well, you know the risk you run."

"I know the bigger risk we are all running," Wyatt declared, as he took a
cigarette from an open box on the table by his side and turned towards
the door. "I'll manage the turtle soup now, with luck. You're a good
fellow, Hebblethwaite. I know it goes against the grain with you, but, by
Jove, you may be thankful for this some time!"

The Right Honourable John William Hebblethwaite took the hat from his
footman, stepped into his car, and was driven rapidly away. He leaned
back among the cushions, more thoughtful than usual. There was a yellow
moon in the sky, pale as yet. The streets were a tangled vortex of
motorcars and taxies, all filled with men and women in evening dress. It
was the height of a wonderful season. Everywhere was dominant the note of
prosperity, gaiety, even splendour. The houses in Park Lane,
flower-decked, displayed through their wide-flung windows a constant
panorama of brilliantly-lit rooms. Every one was entertaining. In the
Park on the other side were the usual crowd of earnest