Before all this occurred, and when war was first declared, the members of the Embassy, together with about 150 persons belonging to the Austro-Hungarian colony, including many children, were interned, and spent ten very unpleasant days, as we were not sure whether we should be released or not. We had occasion during that time to witness three Zeppelin raids over Bucharest, which, seen in the wonderful moonlight, cloudless nights under the tropical sky, made an unforgettable impression on us. I find the following noted in my diary: "_Bucharest, August, 1916._ "The Roumanians have declared war on my wife and daughter too. A deputation composed of two officials from the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, in frock-coats and top hats, appeared last night at eleven o'clock in my villa at Sinaia. My wife was roused out of her sleep, and by the light of a single candle--more is forbidden on account of the Zeppelin raids--they informed her that Roumania had declared war on us. "As the speaker put it, '_Vous avez declare la guerre_.' He then read the whole declaration of war aloud to them both. Bratianu sent word to me that he would have a special train sent to take my wife and daughter and the whole personnel of the Embassy to Bucharest. "_Bucharest, September, 1916._ "The Roumanians really expected a Zeppelin attack at once. So far it has not occurred, and they begin to feel more at ease, and say that it is too far for the Zeppelins to come all the way from Germany. They seem not to be aware that Mackensen has Zeppelins in Bulgaria. But who can tell whether they really will come? "_Bucharest, September, 1916._ "Last night a Zeppelin did come. About three o'clock we were roused by the shrill police whistles giving the alarm. The telephone notified us that a Zeppelin had crossed the Danube, and all the church bells began to peal. Suddenly darkness and silence reigned, and the whole town, like some great angry animal, sullen and morose, prepared for the enemy attack. Nowhere was there light or sound. The town, with a wonderful starry firmament overhead, waited in expectation. Fifteen, twenty minutes went by, when suddenly a shot was fired and, as though it were a signal, firing broke out in every direction. The anti-aircraft guns fired incessantly, and the police, too, did their best, firing in the air. But what were they firing at? There was absolutely nothing to be seen. The searchlights then came into play. Sweeping the heavens from east to west, from north to south, they searched the firmament, but could not find the Zeppelin. Was it really there, or was the whole thing due to excited Roumanian nerves?