He who had buried his face in his hands now looked up: “Pacificism has begun with more bloodshed than war. If we had held the front for another two weeks what has happened to us would have happened in Italy. That was the reason they hurried so. That was why we had to capitulate without conditions. The trouble was with the reserves; they were in communication with Budapest. They received wireless messages from the National Council....” This talk reminded me of the message Károlyi sent in the name of the government to the Higher Command: “I freely accept responsibility for everything.” He also declared that: “The popular Hungarian government desires to take all steps for peace negotiations itself.” Originally he wanted to go personally to Padua, but was prevented by the Higher Command. Yesterday the rumour got about that as he could not negotiate with the Italians who had been charged by the Entente to represent it in its dealings with the Monarchy, he had appealed to Franchet d’Esperay, the Commander-in-chief on the Balkan front. The French General had answered that before he would negotiate with him, all the troops on the Hungaro-Serbian frontier must retire fifteen kilometres into Hungarian territory and that the German troops be disarmed within a fortnight. The abandonment of Hungarian territory was required.... We must oust our last friends, who still defend our frontiers which our own people have forsaken. Give up Hungarian territory.... There can be only one answer to that: a refusal.... But rumour says otherwise: Károlyi is going with his adherents to Belgrade, perhaps he has gone already.... Incomprehensible! Surely I have not dreamt it? I read in a newspaper the report of the Chief of the General Staff that in consequence of the armistice all hostilities had ceased on the Italian front. What are the negotiations of Belgrade about? There was a great noise in front of the door. Tea was clamoured for and rough voices filled the room. Some of the talk was bitter. Most of the men coming from Austria had been robbed of everything. In Vienna Red Guards robbed the Hungarians at the railway stations. Their haversacks had been taken, some had their coats torn off their backs, their boots, rations, even their pocket-knives had been filched from them. They came home hungry and furious and clamouring. Then I caught sight of the sergeant with the red cockade. He mixed with the men and whispered secretively with first one then another. I asked a tall soldier, with a peasant’s face, if all the men were coming home. Were there no troops remaining on the frontier to defend the country? “To be sure we don’t stop there; we are going home; we even left the guns as soon as the news reached us that we need no longer be soldiers.” He produced a crumpled copy of a radical evening paper from the pocket of his coat and waved it in his hand. “Here, in this paper too it is written that the Minister of War has said himself: ‘Now we have peace.’”