'Yes, yes,' Teddy sighed. 'It is all too awful! That correspondent's story only serves to show how easily we were fascinated by German friendship, and by the Emperor himself, who raced at Cowes, and who, while bowing his head piously over Queen Victoria's grave, was already secretly plotting our downfall. But are we not secretly plotting the downfall of the Zeppelins—eh?' he added, with his usual cheery good humour.
'Yes, we are. And, by Gad, we'll show the world what we can do, ere long,' I said. 'But I am full of fierce anger when I recollect how our little aviation circle has been ridiculed by red-taped officialdom, and starved by the public, who thought us airy cranks just because the Invisible Hand was all-powerful in our midst. The German experts deceived the Berlin correspondents of our newspapers; the Emperor uttered his blasphemous prayers for peace, the Teutonic money-bags jingled and their purse-strings were opened. And so our trustful public were lulled to sleep, and we were told to forget all about Zeppelins for they were mere harmless toys, and we were urged, in leading articles of our daily papers, to get on with the Plural Voting Bill, and to investigate the cause in the fall of the output of sandstone—"including ganister" as officialdom describes that commodity.'
'True, Claude,' exclaimed my friend, as we smoked together. 'The whole thing is a striking example of the blindness of those who would not see; and who, even now, when innocent women and children are being killed, are dismissing the raids as "of no military importance."'
