“When all has gone well,” Sir Alfred continued, “when all seems absolutely peaceful and safe, it is sometimes the time to pause and consider.  We are at that spot at the present moment.  You have been lucky, in your way, Ronnie.  Three times, whilst fighting for England, you have managed to penetrate the German lines and receive from them communications of the greatest importance.  Since your return home you have been of use in various ways.  This last business in Norfolk will not be forgotten.  Then take my case.  What Germany knows of our financial position, our strength and our weakness, is due to me.  That Germany is at the present time holding forty millions of money belonging to the city of London, is also owing to me.  In a dozen other ways my influence has been felt.  As I told you before, we have both, in our way, been successful, but we have reached the absolute limit of our effectiveness.”

“What does that mean?” Granet asked.

“It means this,” Sir Alfred explained.  “When this war was started, I, with every fact and circumstance before me, with more information, perhaps, than any other man breathing, predicted peace within three months.  I was wrong.  Germany to-day is great and unconquered, but Germany has lost her opportunity.  This may be a war of attrition, or even now the unexpected may come, but to all effects and purposes Germany is beaten.”

“Do you mean this?” Granet exclaimed incredulously.

“Absolutely,” his uncle assured him.  “Remember that I know more than you do.  There is a new and imminent danger facing the dual alliance.  What it is you will learn soon enough.  The war may drag on for many months but the chances of the great German triumph we have dreamed of, have passed.  They know it as well as we do.  I have seen the writing on the wall for months.  To-day I have concluded all my arrangements.  I have broken off all negotiations with Berlin.  They recognise the authority and they absolve me.  They know that it will be well to have a friend here when the time comes for drawing up the pact.”

Granet gripped the sides of his chair with his hand.  It seemed to him impossible that with these few commonplace words the fate of all Europe was being pronounced.

“Do you mean that Germany will be crushed?” he demanded.

Sir Alfred shook his head.

“I still believe that impossible,” he said, “but the peace of exhaustion will come, and come surely, before many months have passed.  It is time for us to think of ourselves.  So far as I am concerned, well, there is that one censored letter—­nothing in itself, yet damning if the code should be discovered.  As for you, well, you are safe from anything transpiring in France, and although you seem to have been rather unlucky there, you appear to be safe as regards Norfolk.  You must make up your mind now to follow my lead.  Take a home command, do the rest of your soldiering quietly, and shout with the others when the day of peace comes.  These last few months must be our great secret.  At heart we may have longed to call ourselves sons of a mightier nation, but fate is against us.  We must continue Englishmen.”