"
Gilbert nodded silently. He was unfolding an evening paper.
"It is like trying to save a drowning man, who persists in clinging to
one's neck," I remarked. "Gilbert, I have had a German service-rifle
given me to-day, with a plain hint that I may expect to be using it
within a month. I even know which of the Tilbury forts I shall be
expected to share in taking."
My cousin nodded and opened out his paper.
"The Channel Squadron," he announced, "leaves Devonport for Kiel on
Thursday next. And here, in another part of the paper, is the little rift
in the lute, Listen!--
"'We understand that a slight difficulty has arisen with Germany as to
the proposed Morocco Commission. In view of the better understanding,
however, now existing between the two governments, a speedy agreement
is believed certain.'"
"We shall have an ultimatum," Gilbert declared grimly, "as soon as our
ships are safely anchored in Kiel harbor. Polloch may change his tone
then, but he will be a little too late. What can we do, Jim? Whom can we
appeal to?"
"Heaven only knows!" I answered.
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