de him smaller
in my eyes, and my first awe began to pass.

'I never cherish rancour, you know,' he said. 'In my business it is
silly to be angry, for it wastes energy. But I do not tolerate
insolence, my dear General. And my country has the habit of doing
justice on her enemies. It may interest you to know that the end is not
far off. Germany has faced a jealous world in arms and she is about to
be justified of her great courage. She has broken up bit by bit the
clumsy organization of her opponents. Where is Russia today, the
steam-roller that was to crush us? Where is the poor dupe Rumania?
Where is the strength of Italy, who was once to do wonders for what she
called Liberty? Broken, all of them. I have played my part in that work
and now the need is past. My country with free hands is about to turn
upon your armed rabble in the West and drive it into the Atlantic. Then
we shall deal with the ragged remains of France and the handful of
noisy Americans. By midsummer there will be peace dictated by
triumphant Germany.'

'By God, there won't!' I had found my voice at last.

'By God, there will,' he said pleasantly. 'It is what you call a
mathematical certainty. You will no doubt die bravely, like the savage
tribes that your Empire used to conquer. But we have the greater
discipline and the stronger spirit and the bigger brain. Stupidity is
always punished in the end, and you are a stupid race. Do not think
that your kinsmen across the Atlantic will save you. They are a
commercial people and by no means sure of themselves. When they have
blustered a little they will see reason and find some means of saving
their faces. Their comic President will make a speech or two and write
us a solemn note, and we will reply with the serious rhetoric which he
loves, and then we shall kiss and be friends. You know in your heart
that it will be so.'

A great apathy seemed to settle on me. This bragging did not make me
angry, and I had no longer any wish to contradict him. It may have been
the result of the fall, but my mind had stopped working. I heard his
voice as one listens casually to the ticking of a clock.

'I will tell you more,' he was saying. 'This is the evening of the 18th
day of March. Your generals in France expect an attack, but they are
not sure where it will come. Some think it may be in Champagne or on
the Aisne, some at Ypres, some at St Quentin. Well, my dear General,
you alone will I take into our confidence. O