Ughtred smiled.
“I was just going to order something,” he said. “I’ve had a hard night. So far nothing has gone amiss. Our outposts were rushed at Solika, but our main position was easily held.”
Van Decht nodded.
“That’s good! Any fighting at Althea Pass?”
“We are being heavily shelled there and at Morania, but I consider that both places are almost impregnable. Solika is where we must concentrate. You see we have treachery to fear there. It is a frontier town and full of small Russian traders. Reist is garrisoning the place, and General Dartnoff is in command of the forces holding the Pass. Just now everything is quiet. I fancy they are waiting to bring up more heavy guns.”
Van Decht lit a cigar meditatively.
“This is what beats me,” he remarked. “I can never figure out your European politics, but I should never have thought that England and Germany would have allowed a small, unoffending country to be overrun and grabbed by a lot of heathen infidels.”
Ughtred sighed.
“It is hard to understand,” he said. “Only you must remember this. Selfishness is the keynote of international politics, as of many other things. A single Power is always afraid of moving for fear of disturbing the balance of nations. Besides, they all know that this is no war between Turkey and Theos. It is Russia who is pulling the strings.”
“That’s all right,” Mr. Van Decht admitted, “but I should say that you’ve a sort of a claim on England. You’re half an Englishman, anyway. You’ve fought her battles. She’s big enough to give you a lift.”