Billy Barcroft, R.N.A.S Part 13

The Censor shut one eye solemnly.

"Your private opinion," he said.

"The German communiqus seem to be a source of amus.e.m.e.nt to the English," began von Eitelwurmer in the same bold tone, for not being under the kapitan-leutnant's jurisdiction and having an old grievance against him he could afford to "rub it in." "In fact, the censors.h.i.+p in both countries is one of the chief weapons of their antagonists. In England bad news that we already know of is suppressed, and consequently all sorts of disquieting rumours get around. The same holds good in the Fatherland. It is like sitting upon the safety valve of a boiler: sooner or later----"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Schneider. "But as far as we Germans are concerned it matters little. If the people grow restive, if their hunger--and hunger amongst the lower cla.s.ses is acute--goads them to attempted violence the danger ends there. Unlike the English we have organised the nation. Every man, woman and child realises his or her duty is to obey, otherwise we might see the business of Louvain enacted upon German soil."

"The English are of a different temperament," remarked the spy.

"Reverses do not seem to damp their spirits. They have a firm faith that in spite of blunders everything will come out right for them at the finish. It is the fatalism based upon centuries of history. Why their government does not take them into its confidence puzzles me."

The Censor shrugged his shoulders.

"I do not believe in governments of that description," he said.

"Give me our all powerful machinery--the War Council. No government yet won a war, but many a government has lost one. Now tell me----"

A discreet tap upon the door interrupted the official's words.

"Enter!" he bellowed.

A messenger crept stealthily into the room. By his manner it seemed evident that he expected to have a book hurled at his head. It was one of the kapitan-leutnant's usual _plaisanteries_, but on this occasion von Eitelwurmer acted as a moral s.h.i.+eld.

The Censor took the proffered paper, read it and burst into a roar of laughter.

"Wait a moment, Herr von Eitelwurmer," he said when his mirth had subsided. "The conference won't start for some time. There's a fellow wanting an audience--an author, curse him! I'll let the press and their parasites depending upon it know that there is a censors.h.i.+p. This fellow wrote a book: _With von Scheer off Jutland_ he called it. Since we must do something to justify our existence I smashed it. The fellow had no influence, so what matters? And now, I suppose, he's kicking. Send him in, you thick-headed numbskull; send him in."

The author of the banned book entered the room. He was of short stature, being barely five feet two in height, inclined to corpulence, and very white-faced. His heavy, bristling, up-turned moustache contrasted incongruously with his small beady eyes that peered through a large pair of spectacles of enormous magnifying powers.

For quite two minutes Kapitan-leutnant Schneider hurled a torrent of abuse at the head of his caller, punctuating every sentence with furious oaths. Yet, somewhat to the Censor's surprise, the little man showed no signs of quailing under the onslaught.

"Might I ask what there is in the book to which you take exception?"

he asked.

"The whole of it," thundered the despot.

"Could not certain portions be revised?"

"No; I object to it in its entirety."

"Then, since the story is based upon Admiral von Scheer's report you object to the official dispatch?"

For a moment the Press Censor was taken aback. It never entered into his head that this meek and mild man could or would put a poser like this.

"No; I won't say that," replied Schneider. "But either you are a perverter of the truth or you know too much. The work has had the highest Admiralty consideration, and, as you ought to know, censors.h.i.+p has only one object in view, namely, the public interest.

If you are ordered to say that black is white you must say it. You haven't, and you must abide by the consequences."

"One moment," interposed the still unruffled man. "Can you give me one solitary instance of what you object to in the book?"

The kapitan-leutnant puckered his s.h.a.ggy eyebrows.

"No, I cannot," he replied, with considerable mildness. "I have forgotten all about it."

"And that is what you term the highest Admiralty consideration,"

added the author cuttingly. "Very good; I will not trouble you further at present, except to show you this: a commendation from no less a personage than Admiral von Tirpitz."

"Himmel!" gasped the astonished official. "Why did you not tell me this before?"

"Because I had not the chance," replied the caller gathering up his papers. "Good afternoon."

"You are perhaps sorry I waited?" remarked von Eitelwurmer, when the two were again alone.

Schneider frowned.

"If the fool had only made out that we had won a great victory all would have been well," he replied. "The Press and its satellites----"

"The Conference has started, Herr von Eitelwurmer," announced the secretary. "I could not inform you before as the Kapitan-leutnant was engaged."

The spy returned to the council-room. Seated at a long table were the Zeppelin commanders. As each made his report the statement was taken down by an official shorthand writer, while the aviators were subjected to a stiff examination by the Director of Intelligence.

Some were most emphatic in their statements. They knew exactly where they had been; others were not so sure, but believed that they had been to such and such a town; others, somewhat indiscreetly but honestly, confessed that they had lost their bearings. All were agreed, however, that the Yorks.h.i.+re towns of Brigborough and Broadbeck had been missed by the raiding aircraft.

"It seems pretty certain that the geography of the English authorities is at fault," commented the Director. "They report that our Zeppelins visited a North Midland county--that referred to your part of the business, von Loringhoven; I always thought that Lancas.h.i.+re was one of the six northern counties of England: let us hope that some day it will be one of a German dependency. However, we'll issue a report that our airs.h.i.+ps bombed Brigborough and Broadbeck. Then these English will think that you do not know where you have been, and that is exactly what we want them to think. Now, von Papen, draw up a suitable report for home consumption. In these strenuous times we must satisfy the public demands. It will keep the common people quiet for a time, and, if they _do_ find out, there may then be something good to detract their attention."

The spy smiled grimly. He recalled a saying quoted by a German officer to his captor: "We Germans can never be gentlemen--you English will always be fools." The first part held good, but as for the second, his residence in Great Britain had taught him that behind the apathy of the British nation there was Something--a Something that, when aroused, would form more than a match for the cunning and brutality of his fellow countrymen. Reluctantly he had to admit that.

"Why do you smile?" asked the Director, fixing von Eitelwurmer with his eye.

"I was thinking," replied the spy. "Thinking of how I can get back to England. My good work there is not yet completed."

"Those twenty thousand marks, hein?" enquired the president, and the rest of the a.s.sembly laughed uproariously at the director's jest.

CHAPTER XIII

EXIT SEAPLANE No. 445B

"WHY did I leave my comfortable bunk and try my hand at fis.h.i.+ng at night upon the wild North Sea?" enquired Lieutenant Fuller as he withdrew his benumbed hands from his airman's gauntlets and fumbled ineffectually for his electric torch. "Dash it all, man! What are you fiddling about with?"

"Only that releasing lever," replied Kirkwood from the depths of the fuselage. "That confounded Zep! If only the blessed thing hadn't jibbed I'd have strafed her, sure as fate."

"Chuck it!" ordered Fuller. "Let the beastly thing alone, or you may drop a plum. This child doesn't want to be hoist with his own petard. Well, thank goodness we're afloat. That's some consolation.

Where the hooligan Harry is that confounded torch?"

"Take mine," said the A.P. pa.s.sing for'ard the desired article.

"Say, old man, we appear to be rolling more to starboard than to t'other side. Hope the float isn't leaking."