“Yes.”
“I have not the vaguest idea.”
Hermann sat down on the arm of his chair.
“Mike, I’m going back to Germany to-day,” he said. “Now do you understand? I’m German.”
“You mean that Germany is at the back of this?”
“It is obvious, isn’t it? Those demands couldn’t have been made without the consent of Austria’s ally. And they won’t be granted. Servia will appeal to Russia. And . . . and then God knows what may happen. In the event of that happening, I must be in my Fatherland ready to serve, if necessary.”
“You mean you think it possible you will go to war with Russia?” asked Michael.
“Yes, I think it possible, and, if I am right, if there is that possibility, I can’t be away from my country.”
“But the Emperor, the fire-engine whom you said would quench any conflagration?”
“He is away yachting. He went off after the visit of the British fleet to Kiel. Who knows whether before he gets back, things may have gone too far? Can’t you see that I must go? Wouldn’t you go if you were me? Suppose you were in Germany now, wouldn’t you hurry home?”