In the afternoon we hired an automobile, and motored out to Potsdam. Then when we were outside the old Palace we heard that the Kaiser's "strong-for-peace" policy had been of no avail, that the Czar had insulted his messenger, and that now war was inevitable. We ourselves, chameleon-like, assumed the German colour. We believed what we were told, and felt sorry for the man who was called upon unwillingly to shed his nation's blood. On our way back to the hotel Kitty and I went to see Mr. Schermerhorn's cousin, Miss Barber, and then we realized the immediate gravity of the situation. She told us that now war _must_ come, and she also told us that the Viktoria Luise would not sail. With quickened pulses we drove back to the Adlon, where the lounge was crowded with buzzing, excited people. Then we dressed, and went to the "Admiral's Palast" to see the exquisite Ice Ballet. While we were admiring the skating, and sympathizing with the fascinating Pierrot whose heart was broken by the cruelty of the dainty jointed Doll, we were able to forget grim reality--to forget that the bonds that had held captive the great Fiend were being cut, and that he was yawning after his long sleep, and stretching his cramped limbs. The following morning Lyra realized the desirability of leaving Europe and of raising funds. She ordered the car, and we went to the office of the Holland American Line to try and secure the Imperial Suite, but without avail: no passages were to be had. Then we drove to five banks, and cashed a certain amount of her letter of credit at each one. At the Dresdener Bank she was informed that the Czar might capitulate even yet, and that in any case there would be three days of peace. Thereupon our spirits rose, and we began to make wild schemes. Even if Germany and Russia did go to war, why should we not tour in the Ardennes? Belgium would be a nice quiet neutral country to remain in, till we could secure passage to America. In the afternoon we drove out to Schmockwitz and spent a placid time on the Miggelsee, but when we returned to Berlin we found the Unter der Linden seething with dense crowds of excited people and the whole atmosphere charged with electricity. At dinner Mr. Gear came up to our table. "You had better get out of this as soon as you can," he said. "There is going to be trouble at once." Sunday morning Kitty was awakened very early by a stormy altercation in the room next to hers. She knocked on the wall, but no notice was taken of her remonstrance. After we had had breakfast, Lyra went downstairs and chartered an auto for 750 marks. The owner would not promise to take us farther than Hannover, owing to the difficulty of procuring petrol, and moreover both car and chauffeur were required in a couple of days for military duty. We consulted a large map, and decided to motor _via_ Hannover to Osnabrück, and then go on to the frontier, wherever that might be.