Such an attitude, adopted in order to save France from disruption, is not without a certain dignity; but it is at the same time terribly unjust. It is as if France had repeated to the victim of the Devil’s Isle the memorable words--‘It is better that one man should die for the people.’ The one person in Europe who is completely ignorant of the true motives underlying this grim tragedy is without doubt Dreyfus himself. That taciturn, commonplace figure, suddenly elevated into the position of criminal, martyr, and hero, was merely the shuttlecock driven through the air by unseen hands. Even if he was guilty of writing the celebrated bordereau--a question which the Court of Rennes decided in the affirmative--he must have done it by the order of others, given for reasons which he did not comprehend. It will be remembered that before and during the second trial of Dreyfus, the strongest efforts were put forth on his behalf by three foreign Powers--those composing the Triple Alliance. The German, Austrian, and Italian military attachés, breaking through the etiquette of their position, disclaimed, each on his personal word of honour, any dealings with the alleged spy. Not only so, but I myself sent for the Paris correspondent of a London newspaper of high standing, and authorised him to inform his readers that the German Emperor himself was prepared personally to exculpate the accused from the charge of selling information to Germany. This offer, made privately to the French President, was declined for the same reasons which prompted the Government to hush up the whole affair. But every thoughtful man will realise that it would not have been made unless there had been more at stake than the freedom of an obscure captain. My own connection with the _Affaire Dreyfus_ dates from the time of the first trial and sentence, when the theatrical spectacle of the degradation of the unfortunate officer was the theme of universal comment. At this juncture I received a visit from Colonel ----, an officer high in the Emperor’s confidence, and at that time attached to the German Embassy in Paris. ‘I have come to you,’ he announced, as soon as we found ourselves alone, ‘by command of his Imperial Majesty the Kaiser.’ I bowed respectfully as I replied-- ‘I am deeply honoured by this fresh proof of his Majesty’s confidence.’ The Colonel regarded me for a moment with some curiosity. ‘You are a sort of spy, are you not?’ he inquired. I refused to take offence at this blunt question, so natural on the part of a soldier. ‘Each of us has his own part to play,’ I explained suavely. ‘The soldier fights with the enemy in the open field; the man of my profession has to encounter the foes who burrow underground.’ Colonel ---- appeared satisfied. ‘The Kaiser trusts you; that is enough for me,’ he declared. ‘You will not dare to betray this confidence?’ This time I rose to my feet, stern and contemptuous.