“It knows what Luxburg is doing; it is informed every day concerning Bernstorff’s dirty activities; the details of the Mexican and Japanese affairs are familiar to Mr. Lansing; all that happens aboard the Geier, the interned German liners—all that occurs in German consulates, commercial offices, business houses, clubs, cafés, saloons, is no secret to your Government.
“Yet, nothing has been done, nothing is being done except to continue to collect data of the most monstrous and stupendous conspiracy that ever threatened a free nation! I repeat that nothing is being done; no preparation is being made to face the hurricane which has been looming for two years and more, growing ever blacker over your horizon. All the world can see the lightning playing behind those storm clouds.
“And, my God!—not an umbrella! Not an order for overshoes and raincoats!... I am not, perhaps, in error when I suggest that the Administration is an—unusual one.”
Barres nodded slowly.
Renoux said:
“I am sorry. The reckoning will be heavy.”
“I know.”
“Yes, you know. Your great politician, Mr. Roosevelt, knows; your great Admiral, Mahan, knew; your great General, Wood, knows. Also, perhaps some million or more sane, clear thinking American citizens know.” He made a hopeless gesture. “It is a pity, Barres, my friend.... Well—it is, of course, the affair of your people to decide.... We French can only 342 wait.... But we have never doubted your ultimate decision.... Lafayette did not live in vain. Yorktown was not merely a battle. Your Washington lighted a torch for your people and for ours to hold aloft eternally. Even the rain of blood drenching our Revolution could not extinguish it. It still burned at Gravelotte, at Metz, at Sedan. It burned above the smoke and dust of the Commune. It burned at the Marne. It still burns, mon ami.”
“Yes.”
“Alors——” He sat silent for a few moments, his gaze intent on the starry obscurity outdoors. Then, slow and pleasantly: