Counsellor's Lady, much impressed, had not retired to her stateroom.
Captain Erckmann, spying the young Argentinian, offered him a glass.

"It is war," he shouted with enthusiasm. "War at last. . . . The hour
has come!"

Desnoyers made a gesture of astonishment. War! . . . What war? . . .
Like all the others, he had read on the news bulletin outside
a radiogram stating that the Austrian government had just sent an
ultimatum to Servia; but it made not the slightest impression on him,
for he was not at all interested in the Balkan affairs. Those were but
the quarrels of a miserable little nation monopolizing the attention of
the world, distracting it from more worthwhile matters. How could this
event concern the martial Counsellor? The two nations would soon come to
an understanding. Diplomacy sometimes amounted to something.

"No," insisted the German ferociously. "It is war, blessed war. Russia
will sustain Servia, and we will support our ally. . . . What will
France do? Do you know what France will do?" . . .

Julio shrugged his shoulders testily as though asking to be left out of
all international discussions.

"It is war," asserted the Counsellor, "the preventive war that we need.
Russia is growing too fast, and is preparing to fight us. Four years
more of peace and she will have finished her strategic railroads, and
her military power, united to that of her allies, will be worth as much
as ours. It is better to strike a powerful blow now. It is necessary to
take advantage of this opportunity. . . . War. Preventive war!"

All his clan were listening in silence. Some did not appear to feel the
contagion of his enthusiasm. War! . . . In imagination they saw their
business paralyzed, their agencies bankrupt, the banks cutting down
credit . . . a catastrophe more frightful to them than the slaughters
of battles. But they applauded with nods and grunts all of Erckmann's
ferocious demonstrations. He was a Herr Rath, and an officer besides.
He must be in the secrets of the destiny of his country, and that was
enough to make them drink silently to the success of the war.

Julio thought that the Counsellor and his admirers must be drunk. "Look
here, Captain," he said in a conciliatory tone, "what you say lacks
logic. How could war possibly be acceptable to industrial Germany? Every
moment its business is increasing, every month it conquers a new
market and every year its commercial balance soars upward in unheard of
pr