The little Italian Countess spoke very frankly of conditions in her country, of specific needs that called for immediate action on the part of the American government, of plots and counterplots in the very heart of the army, of political and ecclesiastical intrigue that sapped the courage of the people, and of the serious situation on the Isonzo where victorious Italian armies were in constant danger of collapse because of an utter lack of support from behind the lines. She went so far as to say that in the event of a supreme assault by the Austro-Germans, the Italian armies would have to relinquish their hard-earned gains and fall back,--perhaps in actual defeat. “But the Austrians are down and out themselves.” declared the cabinet member. He spoke loudly, for he was at the far end of the table. “They haven't a good solid kick left in them, much less anything like a supreme assault, Countess.” “Let us hope you are right,” returned the Italian woman, the line deepening between her eyes. “I only know that the Italians are in no condition to withstand a great offensive if it should come. Oh, if only England, and France,--and you, gentlemen,--could but be made to realize the importance of a real victory over the Austrians,--if you could only be made to see how desperately we are in need of all the support you can give us in men, and guns, and food, and--aye, in confidence, too. If the German Emperor knew the truth about our position on the Isonzo and in Trentino, he--ah, _he_ would not wait, he would not hesitate. He would move like lightning. He would send a million men to the aid of the Austrians. He would strike with all his might,--and then, when it was all over, you,--all of you,--would grate your teeth while he laughed over another of your blunders.” The men all smiled tolerantly. She was a woman. That was just the way a high-strung, emotional woman would talk. “It would be quite simple, Countess,” said Davenport Carstairs, “if the Kaiser had even half a million men to spare. He is being kept pretty busy in France and Flanders just now.” “Ah, but in Russia,” she cried vehemently. “What of the damned Russians?” In her excitement she spoke the language of the army. Of her hearers, the men seemed a little more shocked than the women. “Are they keeping him pretty busy? No! Are they holding his vast armies in check? No! They are doing more than that. They are shoving him back, driving him and all of his men and guns out of Russia. Driving them down into Italy and over to Flanders, that is what they are doing. And you,--you and France and England,--will not wake up until it is too late. When the beastly Russians have driven the Germans into Paris, and across the English Channel, and down to Rome, then you will understand.”