“You mean the Revanche. Certainly, only a very few of your fellow-countrymen wish for that any longer.”
“That is just the trouble. Magnanimous feelings, bold ideas are dying out.... No, not quite so bad as that ... they still live, but they are suppressed, kept down ... and what can you expect as long as a party is in power sacrilegious enough to lay violent hands on the Church? Thence only one thing can rescue our poor land: to restore the monarchy.”
“Are you a leader of les Camelots du Roy?” asked Rinotti.
“No; the methods of these young men are too coarse for me—they even shock the claimants themselves. Yet I am undisturbed: Dieu protège la France. In one way or another Providence will restore to us our old rights. If not a king, perhaps a dictator, or a great soldier will come.... We have already had one or two attempts to that end: Boulanger, Marchand ... the right one will sometime appear, and if he should succeed in winning back the beloved provinces, even if he should merely wave the colors in order to hasten to the frontier, then,—then all Frenchmen would follow him with wild enthusiasm.”
Rinotti shook his head. “Do you believe so? I opine that a war which your nationalists themselves should start would no longer be popular in the country. The storm must break out somewhere else: Germany would have to be entangled in war with England or Russia; then France might go to their help and in the natural course of events the Revanche might come of itself; even the régime might be changed. Why, even a defeat might result in overturning the republic and the new king might have the chance of restoring the conditions that you desire.”
“That would be fine! But how can one look forward to such events when everywhere these anti-military doctrines are making their way not only in Socialist congresses, but even in public entertainments, like these here—and in presence of the heads of States!”
“Words, words!” exclaimed Rinotti scornfully: “borne away by the wind. And even if the wind should carry away a few fruitful seeds, when will they sprout?—In the far, distant future. Meantime, however, deeds come to the front ... deeds of the present, which are the fruits of seeds scattered in the past. The old hatred, the old distrust, the long cumulated threats: all that must rage itself out first. And the entire world of to-day is prepared for it; school has trained for it, the masses are drilled for it; the instruments are ready. And how easily do these latent forces break out into acute manifestation! What is preached by good people, but bad politicians,—à la Helmer,—arouses no fanaticism, however conciliatory, however reasonable it may sound. Can one ever bring conciliation to fever-heat or reason to a flame? Ah, believe me, only the violent instincts drive the machinery called history. And those who are elected to make history need nothing else but force, and again force, in order to keep the machine going in the direction which they want. And the general conception ‘force’ splits into separate qualities: unbending will, unscrupulousness, inflexibility, formidableness—these are the attributes of the great statesman. But only in his political activity; as a private citizen he must at the same time be amiable, yielding, full of good humor, tender to his family, polite to his subordinates—in general, what is called ‘un charmeur.’ In addition he must have genius; and this, too, is needed: he must have luck!”
La Rochère had accompanied Rinotti’s utterance with nods of satisfaction. “You are a wise statesman!” he exclaimed; and leaning over to look the marchese in the eye, he asked in a lower tone of voice: “Tell me, is there likelihood of war breaking out anywhere? Do you perchance know anything about it?”
Rinotti bit his lips: “I know nothing, and if I did, I should not tell.”
Prince Victor Adolph was sitting on his balcony, reading over and over a letter which he had received that morning from home. Its writer was his oldest brother, the crown prince, who informed him, under the seal of confidence, that an old project, which had once before been broached and then dropped, had come to the front again and was on the point of accomplishment. The point was, that Victor Adolph was to be made regent of a border province which was aspiring to independence. By this appointment, the province would immediately find its desires for autonomy fulfilled. This was a tempting outlook: anything rather than the empty show of military service so detestable to him. In this position, opportunity would be afforded him of working up, of carrying out plans the mighty outlines of which hovered before his mind. A joyous feeling of expectation stirred the young man’s soul. The future, the future—it lay open before him; and he would fill it with progressive ideas, with progressive deeds, with “soaring thoughts” ... He dwelt on these words.