“How on earth did he get there?” the Prime Minister questioned.
“Apparently by the skin of his teeth,” the Viscount answered, “but first let me tell you his news.”
“That is what I have been waiting for,” the Prime Minister said.
“I have decoded his message,” the Viscount went on “and it tells us that with the utmost secrecy and, under the pretence of equipping the Spanish Army in Galicia, Wellington is assembling supply ships, guns and ammunition in Corunna for transportation to Santander Bay.”
The Prime Minister gave a gasp.
“Santander Bay?” he repeated.
The Viscount smiled.
“Two hundred and fifty miles to the East?”
“I can hardly believe it!” the Prime Minister exclaimed.
“It is true,” the Viscount assured him, “and you realise that by doing this he will shorten his communicatio
