“Oh, yes. Petrosch gave me the proofs to bring to you;” and he took out some papers and plunged into a description of the feeling in almost all the regiments in the army.
“It looks convincing enough on paper,” I said.
“My dear Bergwyn, it’s the result of months of work and agitation, and you may rely on it. And we have the country with us. Look here;” and out came more papers, proving that the feeling of people of all classes was on the side of the army.
“There is only one real power in Servia to-day, Bergwyn. The army.”
“And why does Colonel Petrosch send you to me with all this?”
“Two reasons. Either that you may be induced to join our side at once; or, failing that, that you may be persuaded of the uselessness of financing the Government or any other faction opposed to us.”
“And your own opinion, Nikolitch?”
“My dear fellow, I’m only a fly on the wheel; but I think you must be in a great hurry to chuck your money away, if you think of taking any side at all. The army will win in the end: we must, for nothing can stop us; and there will be a new Government, and with a new King—Peter Karageorgevics, I expect—but until things are settled what’s to be your security for any loan?”
“You put it plainly,” said I, with a smile at his bluntness.
“That’s what I came for, Bergwyn. I speak partly as old Petrosch’s mouthpiece, but chiefly as an old chum. Mind you, when the new Government is in the stirrups matters may be different; there’s a great deal got to happen before that, however. But I suppose you don’t really come to fool your money away?”