“That’s ridiculous. They couldn’t possibly.”
“Then what could Spain do in the circumstances?”
“Well, she--er--she could--er--protest.”
“And would that be consistent with the honour of a small nation like Spain?”
“In the circumstances,” said the Colonel unwillingly, “er--yes.”
“So that what it comes to is this. Honour only demands that you should attack the other man if you are much bigger than he is. When a man insults my wife, I look him carefully over; if he is a stone heavier than I, then I satisfy my honour by a mild protest. But if he only has one leg, and is three stone lighter, honour demands that I should jump on him.”
“We’re talking of nations,” said the Colonel gruffly, “not of men, It’s a question of prestige.”
“Which would be increased by a victory over Spain?”
The Major began to get nervous. After all, I was only a subaltern. He tried to cool the atmosphere a little.
“I don’t know why poor old Spain should be dragged into it like this,” he said, with a laugh. “I had a very jolly time in Madrid years ago.”