“It was your impression,” Selingman continued, “gathered from that conversation, that under no possible circumstances would Mr. Hebblethwaite himself, or the Cabinet as a whole, go to war with Germany in support of France.  Is that correct?”

“It is correct,” Norgate admitted.

“Nothing has happened to change your opinion?”

“Nothing.”

“To proceed, then,” Selingman went on.  “Some little time ago you called upon Mr. Bullen at the House of Commons.  You promised a large contribution to the funds of the Irish Party, a sum which is to be paid over on the first of next month, on condition that no compromise in the Home Rule question shall be accepted by him, even in case of war.  And further, that if England should find herself in a state of war, no Nationalists should volunteer to fight in her ranks.  Is this correct?”

“Perfectly,” Norgate admitted.

“The information was of great interest in Berlin,” Selingman pointed out.  “It is realised there that it means of necessity a civil war.”

“Without a doubt.”

“You believe,” Selingman persisted, “that I did not take an exaggerated or distorted view of the situation, as discussed between you and Mr. Bullen, when I reported that civil war in Ireland was inevitable?”

“It is inevitable,” Norgate agreed.

Selingman sat for several moments in portentous silence.

“We are on the threshold of great events,” he announced.  “The Cabinet opinion in Berlin has been swayed by the two factors which we have discussed.  It is the wish of Germany, and her policy, to end once and for all the eastern disquiet, to weaken Russia so that she can no longer call herself the champion of the Slav races and uphold their barbarism against our culture.  France is to be dealt with only as the ally of Russia.  We want little more from her than we have already.  But our great desire is that England of necessity and of her own choice, should remain, for the present, neutral.  Her time is to come later.  Italy, Germany, and Austria can deal with France and Russia to a mathematical certainty.  What we desire to avoid are any unforeseen complications.  I leave you to-night, and I cable my absolute belief in the statements deduced from your work.  You have nothing more to say?”

“Nothing,” Norgate replied.

Selingman was apparently relieved.  He rose, a little later, to his feet.

“My young friend,” he concluded, “in the near future great rewards will find their way to this country.  There is no one who has deserved more than you.  There is no one who will profit more.  That reminds me.  There was one little question I had to ask.  A friend of mine has seen you on your way back and forth to Camberley three or four times lately.  You lunched the other day with the colonel of one of your Lancer regiments.  How did you spend your time at Camberley?”

For a moment Norgate made no reply.  The moonlight was shining into the room, and Anna had turned out all the lights with the exception of one heavily-shaded lamp.  Her eyes were shining as she leaned a little forward in her chair.