VIII—THE PRINCE CALLED THEM ALL FOOLS
Partridge shooting opened on August 1st, and the Prince and Billy—for the keepers were all away at their Kaders—collected some beaters—among whom the naughty and clever Joszo, resplendent in carpet slippers, a pair of old gaiters, and an old cartridge belt—and set out to a melancholy half-hearted shoot, from which Billy returned in a dismal humour. They had shot little and had thought all the time of the men—German, Austrian, Russian, and French—who had shot with them last year and who were now engaged in shooting one another; the Prince had spoken all the time, too, of his friend the Grand Duke Nicholai Nicholaievich, who had hitherto been such a charming and clever man, but who, now that he was to lead the Russians, was nothing but a mahogany-coloured giant; and it was a disgusting world, and how could anybody ever be happy again....
The days that followed were very anxious. France, the newspapers said, declared war on Germany; and Austria felt cross and shocked. How could France declare war on any country when she was herself, as the whole world knew, so little prepared? But there would be a revolution in France, and Poincaré would be guillotined for rushing his country into war like that. Oh, yes, all were agreed, nothing was surer than that Poincaré would meet the traitor's death he deserved.... My return to England had been planned for September, and I began to think that I ought to try to leave at once, but this was laughed down.
"How do you propose to go, Jerry—by private balloon? For everything on wheels is in the hands of the army at present. No, whatever happens you must just stay with us—even if England should join in, you will easily be home for Christmas—the war will be finished long before then. But England won't fight, so why should we break our heads about it?"
I pointed out that treaty obligations would hardly allow Great Britain to stand aside.
"Treaty obligations don't count any more," said the Prince; "the Germans are in Belgium."
"Great Britain, I imagine, does not accept the German view of treaty obligations. Can't you really see that Germany is committing a crime in going through Belgium like that?" I asked the Prince.
"No, absolutely not, when the French were already in Belgium before France declared war on Germany. And even supposing they were not there, Germany would still be right in forcing her way through—it's a case of the survival of the fittest. He's a nice fool that King of the Belgians! He had simply to allow the Germans through, and he would have been well paid for it by William. Old Leopold would not have been so silly."
"There you are right," I said, "he probably would have sold his country."
"Now, Jerry, don't be impertinent! Anything you say now will be used against you if England declares war on us. Don't forget you're our prisoner then."
When the declaration of war did come it sobered us somewhat! The Princess quickly recovered and said——
"Why do you worry about it, Jerry? It's not a matter between you and me, but between Grey and Berchtold—let them scratch each other's eyes out if they like. After all, I'm not sure that I'm so angry with them, for it means that now you've got to remain here indefinitely—nolens volens. I am very glad, for it will be fearfully dull here without our usual big shooting parties. And now come and play bridge."
That was the way in which the Princess looked at it all the time. It was impossible for me to persuade her that to have an enemy alien in the house might be very unpleasant for her: she could never see why, though England and Germany hated each other so cordially, she and I could not remain the good friends we had always been and live peacefully in the same house.
It was very easy for us to disagree, for, after a course of the Neue Freie Presse, the Neues Wiener Tagblatt and the Berliner Tagblatt, with the exception of myself and the servants—the majority of whom were Slavs—the inmates of Schloss K—— were soon convinced that it was England that had been behind the whole conflagration: that jealous of Germany's dangerously increasing foreign trade, she sought to cripple it by a war, and accordingly it was at England's suggestion that Russia bribed the Serbs to assassinate the Archduke—an event which the Entente felt would certainly force Germany's hand....
"We are not strong enough to do anything ourselves, and Germany is the one hope of our existence. What can one do if one is so poor and so divided as we are? Oh, but Willy will save us—a plucky dashing fellow who will teach you all a lesson. You will shed bitter tears in England yet."
"We shall see, when the war is over, who will laugh and who will cry," I would reply.