ins who resented
his unpatriotic behaviour persuaded the War Office, after two or three
months, to remove him from the active list. This exasperated the
ambitious man to such an extent that he withdrew to his own district and
began to work against Yugoslavia. A major with a force of 200 gendarmes
was sent to fetch him back and, after conversations that lasted ten
days, induced him to return to Belgrade. There he was not molested; he
used to sit for hours in the large cafe of the Hotel Moscow in civilian
clothes. But one day a policeman at the harbour happened to observe him
talking for a long time to a fisherman; he wondered what the two might
have in common. When the fisherman was interrogated he refused at first
to give any information, but he finally divulged that he had agreed, for
1500 francs, to take the General down the Danube either to Bulgaria or
Roumania. That evening at nine o'clock the General appeared, with his
son and a servant; he was captured,[54] and among his documents were
some which proved, it was alleged, that he was in communication with
d'Annunzio.

TWO COMIC PRO-ITALIANS IN OUR MIDST

Month follows month. The reading public and some of the statesmen of the
world begin to recognize that, whatever may be the case on other
portions of the new map, there is nothing unreal or impossible or
artificial about Yugoslavia. This State is the result of a national
movement, having its origins within and not without the peoples whose
destiny it affects. The various Yugoslavs, after being kept apart for
all these centuries, have now--roughly speaking--come to that stage
which the Germans reached in 1866. They cannot rest until they reach
the unity which came to the Germans after 1870. And here also, it seems,
the unity will not be gained without the sacrifice of thousands of young
men. "Go, my son," said Oxenstiern the Swedish Chancellor, "and observe
by what imbeciles the world is governed." It is pitiable that the
leaders of the nations, in declining month after month to give to
Yugoslavia an equitable frontier, should apparently have been more
impressed by the arguments of Mrs. Lucy Re-Bartlett[55] than by those of
an anonymous philosopher in the _Edinburgh Review_.[56] "Nationality?"
says the lady, speaking of the country people of Dalmatia, "nationality?
These people of the country districts--the great mass of the
population--are far too primitive to have any sense of nationality as
yet, but if some da