The comedy of the five English yachtsmen who were arrested
as spies at Kiel last Sunday has happily come to a suitable end with their release on Friday. Six professional men— three doctors, a solicitor, an engineer, and an artist—set out from Dover in their private yacht a fortnight ago. They crossed the North Sea, and after they had cruised about, and taken snapshots for the Daily Mail competition, for a few days one of them—Dr. Moore—was, luckily for himself, obliged to return to his work at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Dr. Moore is a member of the Royal Cruising Club, and no doubt in the course of their voyage he must have told his com- panions—what we believe to be the case—that a few years ago
the German Emperor showed the greatest interest in the activities of some members of the Cruising Club, declared that Germans ought to follow their example, and finally presented them with his portrait, to be hung in the club room. But perhaps the very fact which was the chief subject for the German Emperor's praise—the fact that these gentle- men were cruising without any professional assistance—may have been one of the chief causes of the German officials suspicion. In any case, the knowledge of the Emperor's sympathy must have added a touch of poignant humour to the feelings of the unlucky "spies" when they were arrested. That a perception of the humour of the situation could not be expected from their captors was shown only too plainly from the serious view they took of a postcard dispatched by one of the party just before their arrest. " None of us run in at present," it said, " although I have been photographing right and left." Was there ever a more conclusive proof of innocence P