In the section of the train where my wife and I were seated were four other passengers in addition to the couple I have already referred to. They were three Austrian ladies–a mother and her two daughters–and a man–a well-known owner of racing horses from Charleroi. The three ladies apparently belonged to the highest society. They were on their way to Ostend where they intended taking a steamer for England, where the mother said her son was a student. The conversation between the sportsman and the three ladies turned on the tenseness of the situation then existing between Austria and Serbia. The man was very outspoken in his denunciation of Austria. The elder lady, naturally, defended her country. “The Serbians,” the man replied, “may not be above suspicion, but there are other things equally suspicious, and this war which you are about to declare on a small country may be the act of the Austrian Government directed to extend its territory in the Balkans. It is dictated above all by the Autocrat at Potsdam, who is holding the stakes and will direct every move to satisfy his immoderate ambition.” The lady, I must say, while moderate in her retorts, was nevertheless obstinate in denying that Germany had anything to do with the Balkan imbroglio, but the racing man was also obdurate, and with what turned out to be extraordinary accuracy he predicted that within a few days France, Russia and Great Britain would take up the cudgels on behalf of Serbia and enter the fray. The conversation was still going on when the trainman announced Ostend. CHAPTER II THE GERMAN TAVERN-KEEPER AND THE BRABANÇONNE