"In seven days—after holding it as many years? It doesn't take much to shake your faith."
"It takes a good deal," I answered. "Unfortunately a good deal was forthcoming. In respect of your manifesto, I don't want war; I hate the idea of it; we must do all in our power to keep out of it. But I don't know the limits of our power or the obligations of the Entente. If our hands were free, I'm disposed to let France fight her own battles; if we're bound by treaty, there's no more to be said. Of course, if the Germans try to get through Switzerland or Belgium, that introduces a new factor, and we look only at the question of policy. I submit that it is not good policy to have another Sedan, and I think manifestos and counter-manifestos may well be postponed till the Government has given a lead."
Dillworth picked up his hat and buttoned his coat deliberately.
"We counted on you, Mr. Oakleigh," he said.
"I am sorry to disappoint you," I said.
That night we tried to keep away from the state of Europe, but all paths in conversation led back to the same point. The international position of Luxembourg carried us to the library: histories called for atlases, the armies at Sedan sent us to the "Statesman's Year Book," and we ended with strategic railways, the population of Russia and our Expeditionary Force.
"I wonder what these devils in Ireland are going to do?" Loring demanded suddenly.
"And in India?" O'Rane added.
On Monday the German declaration of war on Russia was confirmed in the papers, and we read that the unconditional neutrality of Belgium was under discussion and that the Foreign Secretary would speak in the House on the Bank Holiday afternoon. The momentary stimulus of news died away like the ebbing strength of a cocaine injection. We revived on learning that the German Embassy in London was endeavouring to localize the conflict, but in the quick reaction I went to Loring and told him I could no longer bear to be away from London.
"Stick it out till to-morrow," he implored me. "We'll all go up together."