But in the meantime the lying tongue of rumour had been busy with his name in his native village.  It was said that he was an officer in the German Army, and on the strength of that rumour his parents were ordered by the Chief Constable to leave the village and not to dwell on the East Coast.  It was a sentence of death on them.  The order broke the old man’s heart, and he committed suicide.  The son arrived to find his father dead and his mother distracted by her bereavement.  He took her away to the seaside for a rest, but on their return to the village she, too, committed suicide.  And the jury did not say “Killed by Slander”:  they said “Suicide while of unsound mind.”  Oh, cautious jurymen!

How do rumours get abroad?  There are many ways.  Let me illustrate one of them.  In his criticism of the war the other week Mr. Belloc said: 

“The official German communique which appeared in print last Saturday is a very good example upon which to work.  I quote it as it appeared in the Westminster Gazette (which has from the beginning of the war, and even before its outbreak, been remarkable for the volume of its German information), and as it was delivered through the Marconi channel.”

Then follows the communique.  Now, when I read this I smiled, for I love the subtleties of the ingenious Mr. Belloc.  He quotes a document which appeared in every paper in the country, but he says he quotes it from the Westminster Gazette. Why, since it appeared everywhere, does he mention one paper?  Obviously in order to make that parenthetical remark which I have italicised.

Now the reputation of the Westminster stands too high to be affected by the suggestion that it is “remarkable”—­which it isn’t—­for its German information.  But suppose you, a mere ordinary citizen, were alleged by some one to have special intercourse with Germany at this time.  You might be as innocent as that Suffolk schoolmaster, but that would not save you from the suspicions of your neighbours and, perhaps, the attentions of the Chief Constable.

Let me give another little illustration.  A friend of mine, who happens to be a Liberal journalist, went to a private dinner recently to meet M. Painleve, the French Academician, Senator Lafontaine, of Brussels, and two other French and Belgian deputies.  The next morning he was stated in the Daily Express (edited by Mr. Blumenfeld) to have dined with “three or four foreigners” for the purpose of discussing peace.  And in the next issue of the London Mail the question was asked, “Who were the foreigners with whom ------ dined?” You see the insinuation.  You see how the idea grows.  He did not reply, because there are some papers that one can afford to ignore, no matter what they say.  But I mention the thing here to show how a legend is launched.

And the moral of all this?  It is that of my friend whom I have quoted.  Let us suspect all rumours whether about events or persons.  When Napoleon’s marshals told him they had won a victory, he said, “Show me your prisoners.”  When you are told a rumour do not swallow it like a hungry pike.  Say “Show me your facts.”  And before you accept them be sure they are whole facts and not half facts.