I thought of London and remembered conversations there three weeks before the declaration of war. The general opinion might have been summarized as follows: The Bulgars were a hardy, frugal race, rather like the Scotch, and, therefore, sympathetic; they were ruled over by a king called Ferdinand, who was too clever to be quite respectable. As for Servia, the British conscience had, of course, been deeply shocked by the murder of the late King, and the Servian Government had been stood in the diplomatic corner for some years, but the crime had been more or less expiated by its dramatic elements and the fact that it had taught everybody a little geography. King Nicholas of Montenegro was a picturesque figure and had an amiable habit of distributing decorations. In regard to Greece, there were dynastic reasons why we should be well disposed towards the descendants of the men who fought at Marathon, not to mention the presence in our midst of financial magnates with unmistakably Greek names. Lastly, the Turks. In London, in 1912, these people enjoyed considerable popularity; they were considered the only gentlemen in the Balkans, the upper-class ones of course. Admittedly Turkish administration was corrupt and the Turks had a distressing habit of cutting down trees everywhere, but their most serious defect was that they were a little sticky about affording facilities for Western enterprise. This latter consideration was considered really important. Matters would improve, it was thought, after some changes had been made in the Consular Service. The war had come at last. Few people in England knew its cause or its objects; many thought and hoped the Turks would win. We had played the part of stern moralists when a debauched and tyrannical youth received summary justice at the hands of his outraged subjects, but we watched lightheartedly the preparations for a struggle which would soak the whole Balkan Peninsula in blood. Night was falling as we passed under the walls of the old fortress of Belgrade. During the last hour the conversation had taken a purely business turn about coal concessions in the Ergene Valley[1] and a French company which was being formed to exploit Uskub. Both localities were in Turkish territory, but would change their nationality after the war, if the Balkan Allies were the victors.