ntiment. For Gorman neutrality in any quarrel was no doubt
inconceivable. As a younger man he might have been a rebel and given
his life in some wild struggle against the power of England; or he
might have held the King's commission and led other Irishmen against a
foreign foe. He could never, if a great fight were going on, have been
content to stand aside as Donovan did; neither praising nor blaming,
neither hoping for victory nor fearing defeat.

Even more difficult to bear was Konrad Karl's conviction that the
Emperor was invincible. It does not appear that the King had any
particular wish for a German victory. He would perhaps have preferred
to see the Emperor beaten and humiliated. But that seemed to him
outside all possibility. The Emperor's triumph was as inevitable as
the changing of the seasons. A man may not wish for winter or the east
winds of spring; but he does not soothe himself with hopes that the
long days of summer will continue. It seemed to Konrad Karl merely
foolish that Gorman should speak as if the issue of the war were in
any doubt.

Gorman has often spoken to me about his feelings at this time.

"I could have broken Konrad Karl's head with pleasure," he said once.
"I had to hold myself tight if I did not mean to fall on him. He was
so infernally certain that the Emperor would wipe the floor with us.
Us! Isn't it a queer thing now? Here I am, a man who has been abusing
the English all my life, and hating them--I give you my word that I've
always hated the self-sufficiency and nauseating hypocrisy of the
English. There's nothing I've wanted more than to see them damned well
thrashed by somebody. And yet the minute anybody comes along to thrash
them I'm up on my hind legs, furious, talking about 'Us' and 'We' and
'Our' army just as if I were an Englishman myself."

Gorman made every effort in his power to get news of some sort. He
tried to bribe the island fishermen to sail over to the mainland in
their largest boat. He offered to go with them. It was a voyage which
they sometimes made. In fine weather there was no great difficulty
about it. But Gorman's bribes were offered in vain. A curious fear
possessed the islanders; the same fear which laid hold of the souls of
simple people all over Europe at that time. They were afraid of some
vast evil, undefined, unrealized, and their terror kept them close to
the shadows of their homes. The most that Gorman could persuade them
to do was to take him a