ch in the event had
untoward consequences.

One afternoon the Serbian Military Attache came to see me. He called
in to beg us soldiers to do our utmost to induce H.M. Government to
acquiesce in an immediate offensive on the part of King Peter's troops
against the forces of the neighbouring State, which were mobilizing
and were evidently bent on mischief. I presented our Government's case
as well as I could, although my sympathies were in fact on military
grounds entirely on the side of my visitor. He thereupon besought me
to take him to Lord Kitchener, and I did so. The Chief talked the
question over in the friendliest and most sympathetic manner, he gave
utterance to warm appreciation of the vigorous, heroic stand which the
sore-beset little Allied nation had made, and was making, in face of
dangers that were gathering ever thicker, he expressed deep regret at
our inability to give effective assistance, and he admitted that from
the soldier's point of view there was much to be said for the
contention that an immediate blow should be struck at Serbia's eastern
neighbour. But he stated our Government's attitude in the matter
clearly and uncompromisingly, and he would not budge an inch on the
subject of our sanctioning or approving an attack upon Bulgaria so
long as Bulgaria remained neutral.

The Attache protested eagerly, volubly, stubbornly, pathetically, but
all to no purpose. Then, when at last we rose to our feet, Lord K.,
finding his visitor wholly unconvinced, drew himself up to his full
height. He seemed to tower over the Attache, who was himself a tall
man, and--well, it is hard to set down in words the happenings of a
tense situation. The scene was one that I never shall forget, as, by
his demeanour rather than by any words of his, Lord K. virtually
issued a command that no Serb soldier was to cross the Bulgar border
unless the Bulgars embarked on hostilities. The Attache stood still a
moment; then he put his kepi on, saluted gravely, turned round and
went out without a word. I followed him out on to the landing. "Mon
Dieu!" he said; "mon Dieu!" And then he went slowly down the great
marble staircase, looking a broken man. But for that interview the
Serbs might perhaps have given their treacherous neighbours an
uncommonly nasty jar before these got going, and this might have
rendered their own military situation decidedly less tragic than it
came to be within a very few days. But I do not see that Lord
Kitch