The Coming Conquest of England [87]
not only justice, but also external and internal prosperity may be realised. The Romans certainly do not appear to have made the rearing of capable citizens, in accordance with Plato's idea, the aim of the state; they were modern, like the great Powers of to-day, whose aim it is to grow as rich and powerful as possible. We Germans also desire this, and that is why we are waging this war; but at the same time I assert that something higher dwells in the German national character--the idea of humanity. With us also our ideals are being destroyed, and therefore we are fighting for our 'place under the sun,' in order to protect and secure our ideals together with our national greatness." At this point a servant entered and announced dinner. At table the conversation shifted from philosophy and politics to art. The ladies tried to cheer the old gentleman and banish his despair. Elizabeth talked of the concerts in Simla and Calcutta, mentioning the great technical difficulties which beset music in India, owing to the instruments being so soon injured by the climate. The moist air of the towns on the coast made the wood swell; the dry air of Central India, on the other hand, made it shrink, which was very injurious to pianos, but especially to violins and cellos. Pianos, with metal instead of wood inside, were made for the tropics; but they had a shrill tone and were equally affected by abrupt changes of temperature. After dinner Elizabeth seated herself at the piano, and it did Heideck good to find that Edith had a pleasant and well-trained alto voice. She sang some melancholy English and Scotch songs. "I have never sung since I left England," she said, greatly moved. Heideck had listened to the music with rapture. After the fearful scenes of recent times the melodies affected him so deeply that his eyes filled with tears. It was not only the music that affected him, but Edith's soul, which spoke through it. "What are you thinking of doing, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked the old gentleman. "Shall you remain in Simla and keep Mrs. Irwin with you?" "I have thought it over," he replied. "I shall not stay here. I shall go to Calcutta, if I can. It is my duty to be at my post there." "But how do you intend to travel? The railways still in existence have been seized for the exclusive use of the army. Remember that you would have to pass both armies, the Russian and the English. You would have to go from Kalka to Ambala, and thence to Delhi." "If I could get a passport, I could travel post to Delhi, where I should be with the English army. Can you get me a passport?" "I will try. Possibly Prince Tchajawadse may be persuaded to let me have one. I will point out to him that you are civilian officials." . . . . . . . Prince Tchajawadse most emphatically refused to make out the passport for Mr. Kennedy and his family. "I am very sorry, my friend," said he, "but it is simply impossible. The Judge-Advocate-General is a very high official; I cannot allow him to go to the English headquarters and give information as to what is going on here. The authorities would justly put a very bad construction upon such ill-timed amiability, and I should not like to obliterate the good impression which the success of the expedition to Simla has made upon my superiors by an unpardonable act of folly on my own part." Heideck saw that any attempt at persuasion would be useless in the face of the Prince's determination. He therefore acquainted Mr. Kennedy with the failure of his efforts, at the same expressing his sincere regret. "Then I shall try to return to England," said the old gentleman, with a sigh. "Please ask the Prince if he has any objection to my making my way by the shortest road to Karachi? Perhaps he will let me have a passport for this route." Prince Tchajawadse was quite ready to accede to this request. "The ladies and gentlemen can travel where they please in the rear of the Russian army, for all I care," he declared. "There is not the least occasion for me to treat the worthy old gentleman