indeed, France had once been compelled to
drive him from the Quai d'Orsay, where, for so many years, he had been
to his contemporaries a sort of Olympian in the conduct of her foreign
affairs. But even in retirement he remained the most powerful man in
France; and now he was back in the cabinet again, a giant among
Lilliputians, building up the navy, building up the army, strengthening
the forts along the frontier, increasing the efficiency of the
artillery, experimenting with air-ships, devoting his days and nights to
the study of strategy, the discussion of possibilities, always with the
same idea, the same hope! And now, this catastrophe!

As he sat gnawing his nails, the President glanced at him, read his
thoughts, and shook his head.

"No, my friend," he said, sadly, "the country is not in danger; or, if
it is, the danger is from within, not from without. This is an accident,
like all the others."

"You believe so? But it seems to me that we have had more than our share
of accidents!"

"So we have," the President agreed. "Let us hope that this will be the
last--that it will teach us to guard ourselves, in future, from our own
carelessness."

"England, America, Germany," Delcasse went on, speaking half to himself,
"these nations, with navies greater than ours, never have such
accidents. Small explosions, sometimes, it is true, wrecking a gun or
damaging a turret--but never destroying a whole ship! Is it merely
because they are never careless?"

"There was the _Maine_," the President reminded him.

Delcasse's hand went to his moustache to hide the ironic smile upon his
lips. In that close-cropped head of his, along with many other such
secrets, was that of the cause of the catastrophe in Havana harbour. In
all the chancellories of Europe, it was agreed that the _Maine_ had been
destroyed by the spontaneous explosion of her own magazines. Four men
knew the truth, and Delcasse was one of them. There had been a fifth,
but an assassin's bullet killed him.

In an instant Delcasse's face was composed, and his eyes, behind their
immense glasses, as inscrutable as ever. The President, so ingenuous and
child-like, must never suspect the truth!

"True!" Delcasse agreed. "There was the _Maine_! I had forgotten that,"
and he relapsed into thoughtful silence.

Evening came, and still the train rolled southward, past Macon, past
Lyons, past Vienne, everywhere greeted by surging crowds. At the latter
place, Delcasse a