he rare quality of being able to discuss the most difficult
and threatening situation with the utmost calmness and deliberation.
He is a very attentive listener, and as he quickly appreciates and
understands all that is told him, it did not take him long to become
fully acquainted with the entire situation.

As I have said before, all the Cabinet were at this moment very
anxious as to the general outlook, but neither by word nor gesture did
the Prime Minister display the least want of hope and confidence.

During my sojourn in France I had received several most kind and
encouraging letters from Mr. Asquith, in which he expressed his warm
appreciation of all that we had done, and said how truly he realised
the very trying circumstances which surrounded us. He personally
reiterated these kindly sentiments; but it was evident that the
Government had just begun to entertain doubts and fears which had
induced them to call me into council. It was the faith inspired by
this constant kindly sympathy, and his power as Prime Minister, which
helped me to believe that the shortage in guns and ammunition which
threatened ultimate destruction would be overcome. The glorious troops
under my command had gone valiantly to their death when a few more
guns and a few more shells would have many times saved their
sacrifice. And still no sufficient supplies came.

The question of munitions and the fear of invasion formed
the basis of our long conversation at Walmer. After lunch, I left with
Kitchener and travelled by motor to London. With deep sorrow I recall
the fact that this was the last of all the many days of happy personal
intercourse which I spent with my old South African chief. As a
soldier and a commander in the field I had always loved and venerated
him; in his capacity as a politician and Minister my sentiments and
feelings towards him were never the same.

I am willing to admit that our differences--which were great and
far-reaching--may have been to some extent my own fault; but, be that
as it may, our subsequent relations, down to the time of his tragic
death, were always clouded by a certain mistrust of one another.

It rejoices my heart, and alleviates the pain and regret which I feel,
to look back upon this one day spent almost entirely _tete-a-tete_
with him. On our way to London we had to pass by his country place at
Broome, and he insisted on stopping for an hour to show me round it.
To describe what I saw would onl