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PAGE 5

Satire Of The Sea
by [?]

I hesitated to interrupt Sir Henry. But he had got my interest desperately worked up about what seemed to me great unjointed segments of this affair, that one couldn’t understand till they were put together. I ventured a query.

“How did St. Alban come to be on the hospital transport?” I said. “Was he in the English army in France?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “When the war opened St. Alban was in the Home Office, and, he set out to make England spy-proof. He organized the Confidential Department, and he went to work to take every precaution. He wasn’t a great man in any direction, but he was a careful, thorough man. And with tireless, never-ceasing, persistent effort, he very nearly swept England clean of German espionage.”

Sir Henry spoke with vigor and decision.

“Now, that’s what St. Alban did in England – not because he was a man of any marked ability, but because he was a persistent person dominated by a single consuming idea. He started out to rid England of every form of espionage. And when he had accomplished that, as the cases of Ernest, Lody, and Schultz eloquently attest, he determined to see that every move of the English expeditionary force on the Continent should be guarded from German espionage.”

Sir Henry paused and poured out a cup of tea. He tasted it. It was cold, and he put the cup down on the table.

“That’s how St. Alban came to be in France,” he said. “The great drive on the Somme had been planned at a meeting of military leaders in Paris. The French were confident that they could keep their plans secret from German espionage. They admitted frankly that signals were wirelessed out of France. But they had taken such precautions that only the briefest signals could go out.

“The Government radio stations were always alert. And they at once negatived any unauthorized wireless so that German spies could only snap out a signal or two at any time. They could do this, however.

“They had a wireless apparatus inside a factory chimney at Auteuil. It wasn’t located until the war was nearly over.

“The French didn’t undertake to say that they could make their country spy-proof. They knew that there were German agents in France that nobody could tell from innocent French people. But they did undertake to say that nothing could be carried over into the German lines. And they justified that promise. They did see that nothing was carried out of France.” The Baronet looked at me across the table.

“Now, that’s what took St. Alban across the Channel,” he said. “The English authorities wanted to be certain that there was no German espionage. And there was no man in England able to be certain of that except St. Alban. He went over to make sure. If the plans for the Somme drive should get out of France, they should not get out through any English avenue.”

The Baronet paused.

“St. Alban went about the thing in his thorough, persistent manner. He didn’t trust to subordinates. He went himself. That’s what took him out on the English line. And that’s how he came to be wounded in the elbow.

“It wasn’t very much of a wound – a piece of shrapnel nearly spent when it hit him. But the French hospital service was very much concerned. It gave him every attention.

“The man came into Paris when he had finished. The French authorities put him up at the Hotel Meurice. You know the Hotel Meurice. It’s on the Rue de la Rivoli. It looks out over the garden of the Tuileries. St. Alban was satisfied with the condition of affairs in France, and he was anxious to go back to London. Arrangements had been made for him to go on the hospital transport.

“He was in his room at the Meurice waiting for the train to Calais. He was, in fact, fatigued with the attention the French authorities had given him. Everything that one could think of had been anticipated, he said. He thought there could be nothing more. Then there was a timid knock, and a nurse came in to say that she had been sent to see that the dressing on his arm was all right. He said that he had found it easier to submit to the French attentions than to undertake to explain that he didn’t need them.