"Why—would the German boats go near the British Navy?" and Uncle Pista was surprised and disappointed.
"Not intentionally—but they might find the British Navy difficult to avoid," said the Admiral.
"Then they wouldn't avoid it at all," said Uncle Pista, recovering his spirits. "They would just smash it up, as they're smashing up the English in Flanders just now, and then go on, and they would be in Japan in a few days."
"Good sailing!" commented the Admiral.
"Oh, yes, there will be an end of Japan and of England, too! Willy will teach them the lesson they need. How glad I am that no child of mine ever learned English!" By this time we were literally roaring with laughter, and he paused in surprise. "What are you all laughing at? Am I not right?" He had forgotten my nationality.
"Quite," I said, hoping he would continue. But Aunt Sharolta looked up from the chest-protector she was sewing and said—
"It is useless for you to talk like that, Pista, when we are being annihilated in Galicia and Serbia. Oh, yes, I know the newspapers are very encouraging, but those who know say otherwise."
"Have patience! Have patience," said the Admiral. "Trust in Willy. And mark my words, to-morrow we shall hear something from the sea."
(This English companion to a royal Hungarian family continues to relate her experiences until the spring of 1915, when, despite the efforts of her kind host and hostess, she escaped from the War-cursed country. She tells how she made her way to Switzerland, via Vienna and Innsbruck, and arrived safely at her home in London.)