of England has flown on
which we have not led men, willing to fall at the head of them. It seems
strange now, looking back on it, that such an emotion should have been
possible; but at the moment I felt an overmastering sense of awful joy
at Ascher's news.

"I cannot tell you where I have been to-night," said Ascher, "nor with
whom I have been talking. Still less must I repeat what I have heard,
but this much I think I may say. I was sent for to give my advice on
certain matters connected with finance, to express an opinion about what
will happen, what dangers threaten in that world, my world, the world of
money."

"There'll be an infernal flurry on the Stock Exchange," I said. "Prices
will come tumbling down about men's ears. Fellows will go smash in every
direction."

"There will be much more than that," said Ascher. "The declaration of
war will not simply mean the ruin of a few speculators here and there.
You know enough about the modern system of credit to realise something
of what we have to face. There will be a sudden paralysis of the nerves
and muscles of the whole world-wide body of commercial and industrial
life. The heart will stop beating for a short time--only for a short
time I hope--and no blood will go through the veins and arteries."

Ascher spoke very gravely. Yet, though I had spent months watching the
workings of his machine, I could not at the moment share his mood. The
war fever was in my blood.

"I should change my metaphor," said Ascher. "It is not a case of a body
where the heart pumps blood into the arteries, but of springs which make
brooks, brooks which flow into streams, which in their turn feed great
rivers. Now those springs will be frozen. In a million places of which
you and I do not even know the names, credit will be frozen suddenly.
There will be no water in the brooks and streams. The rivers will run
dry."

Ascher had asked for my sympathy. I did my best to give it.

"It's a tremendous responsibility for you," I said, "and men like you.
But you'll pull through. The whole thing can't collapse, simply can't.
It's too big."

"Perhaps," said Ascher, "perhaps. But it is not that side of the matter
which I wish to speak to you about. You will forgive me if I say that
you can, hardly understand or appreciate it. What I want to say to you
is something more personal. I want"--Ascher smiled wanly--"to talk about
myself."

"You stand to lose heavily," I said. "I see that."

"I do