ight if there were war. No wonder the dishes shook a
little, for they can't but feel excited.

As soon as we could get away from the diningroom Bernd and I went out
into the garden--the Graf and Grafin hadn't reappeared--and he said
that though for a moment he had thought Austria's ultimatum would mean
war, it was only just the first moment, but that he believed Servia
would agree to everything, and the crisis would blow over in the way so
many of them had blown over before.

I asked him what would happen if it didn't; I wanted things explained
to me clearly, for positively I'm not quite clear about which nations
would be fighting; and he said why talk about hateful things like war
as long as there wasn't a war. He said that as long as his chief left
him peacefully at Koseritz and didn't send for him to Berlin I might be
sure it was going to be just a local quarrel, for his being sent for
would mean that all officers on leave were being sent for, and that the
Government was at least uneasy. Then at four o'clock came the
telegram. The Government is, accordingly, at least uneasy.

I saw hardly any more of him. He got his things together with a
quickness that astonished me, and he and the Graf, who was going to
Berlin by the same train, motored to Stettin to catch the last express.
Just before they left he caught hold of my hand and pulled me into the
library where no one was, and told me how he thanked God I was English.
"Chris, if you had been French or Russian,"--he said, looking as though
the very thought filled him with horror. He laid his face against
mine. "I'd have loved you just the same," he said, "I could have done
nothing else but love you, and think, think what it would have meant--"

"Then it will be Germany as well, if there's war?" I said, "Germany as
well as Austria, and France and Russia--what, almost all Europe?" I
exclaimed, incredulous of such a terror.

"Except England," he said; and whispered, "Oh, thank God, except
England." Somebody opened the door an inch and told him he must come
at once. I whispered in his ear that I would go back to Berlin
tomorrow and be near him. He went out so quickly that by the time I
got into the hall after him the car was tearing down the avenue, and I
only caught a flash of the sun on his helmet as he disappeared round
the corner.

It has all been so quick. I can't believe it quite. I don't know what
to think, and nobody says anything here. The Grafin