“We have only one point of view, and one demand,” said de Montauban. “Security! . . . Security for France, after her sacrifice and her victory. Where is that assurance?”
“In the ‘tapage’ of our ‘soixante-quinzes!’ ” said Armand de Vaux.
De Montauban shook his head.
“Let us not deceive ourselves. We are not strong enough to fight alone against the Boche.”
“We have Poland as a gallant ally.”
“She will crumple like pasteboard between Germany and Russia.”
“Belgium, Czecho-Slovakia, Hungary,” said De Vaux.
“We must have England and the United States,” said De Montauban. “It was they who made us sheathe our sword and abandon our full and just right of vengeance against Germany in the Treaty of Versailles. We compromised in return for a pledge of security from our allies. That pledge was broken before the signature was dry on the Treaty. The Americans refused to ratify the pledge of their President. It was our first betrayal. Since then, by a sentimental illusion of world peace, all our rights have been betrayed. The Germans have been encouraged to evade their reparation payments, though without them France is bankrupt. When we threaten to march into the Ruhr to enforce those payments, the Liberals of England cry ‘Shame’ on us for provoking the poor dear Germans. What will be the end of it? It is almost in sight. The Entente will be broken between England and France. Germany will ally herself with Russia, with whom also the English Liberals are sentimentalising, and France will within the present generation be called upon to defend her soil again, without Great Britain by her side. It is inevitable. It is certain. It is the Great Betrayal. That is why we hate your Lloyd George, and all he stands for.”
“The English people are loyal to us,” said Mme. de Montauban. She turned to Bertram, and laid her little hand on his arm.
“We are sure that the real heart of England beats with us, after so much common sacrifice, so much agony together. Is it not so?”