to say a separate good-bye. I was exultant. Next term seemed
worlds away: and, meanwhile, eight sunny weeks of holiday stretched
before me. My mother and I were off for Switzerland, to whose white
heights and blue Genevan lake she loved to take me, for it was my
birthplace, and, in her fond way, she would call me her "mountain
boy," and tell an old story of a Colonel who had gazed into his
grandson's eyes, and said: "_Il a dans les yeux un coin du lac._" I
was dreaming, then, of the Swiss mountain air, and of twin white
sails on a lovely lake; and I was visualising, let me admit it, a
new well-tailored suit, grey spats, socks of a mauve variety, and
other holiday eruptions. So there was no space in my parochial mind
for international issues and rumours of wars. Rather I was
ridiculously flushed and shining, as I came upon Radley and wished
him a happy holiday.

Radley seemed strained, as though he had something ominous to break,
and said with a dull and meaning laugh: "I'm sure I hope you have
one too."

Observing that he was in one of his harder moods, I at once became
awkwardly dumb; and there was a difficult silence, till he asked:

"Have you heard about Herr Reinhardt?"

"Mr. Caesar? No, sir."

"Well, he left to-day for Germany."

"What on earth for?"

"Why, to shoulder a rifle, of course, and fight in the German ranks.
Don't you know Germany is mobilising and will be at war with France
in about thirty hours?"

"Oh, I read something about it. But what fun!"

Radley looked irritated. In trying to break some strange news he had
walked up a blind alley and been met by my blank wall of density. So
he took another path.

"Pennybet is in luck, according to his ideas. All Europe plays into
his hands. He's got the war he wanted to give him rapid promotion."

"Why, sir, how will Germany affect him?"

"Only in this way," Radley announced, desperately trying to get
through my blank wall by exploding a surprise, "that England will be
at war with Germany in about three days."

"Oh, what fun! We'll give 'em no end of a thrashing. I hate
Germans. Excepting Herr Reinhardt. I hope _he_ has a decent time."

"And White and Lancaster, and all who leave this term, and perhaps
even--perhaps others will get commissions at once."

"Why, sir? They're not going to Sandhurst."

"No," sighed Radley, "but they give commissions to all old
public-schoolboys, if there's a big war. White and Lancaster will be
in the fight bef