We learned from him that the city was by no means deserted, as we should see, and that a short distance further on would bring us out into the Corso Francesco Giuseppe, the principal thoroughfare of the city. Then, to our astonishment, he added, as though giving us some really good news, that we should find a big café open, and that we could get anything we liked to eat or drink there. We could scarcely credit what he said. It seemed a mockery of war—surely it could not be true that the cafés in Gorizia were open and doing business whilst the place was being shelled, on the very morning, too, of its occupation by the Italians, and with the dead still lying about its streets. We hurried on, anxious to witness this unexpected sight. The bombardment appeared to have affected only a certain zone, and there were but few signs of destruction as one approached the centre of the city, but all the houses were closely shuttered and apparently deserted. A big screen made of foliage was hung across the end of the street, on the same principle as those one saw along the roads, and evidently with the same object: to hide the movements of troops in the streets from observers in “Drachen” or aeroplanes. The Corso Franscesco Guiseppe is a fine broad boulevard, and reminded me very much of certain parts of Rheims, it still had all the appearance of being well-looked after, in spite of the vicissitudes through which it had passed. There were detachments of soldiers drawn up on the pavement close to the houses, and already the ubiquitous _carabinieri_ were _en evidence_, as they are everywhere along the Front. It seems strange that no military operation in Italy seems possible without the presence of _carabinieri_. Of civilian life there was not a trace so far; the city was quite given up to the military. The “Grosses” Café faced us, a new and handsome corner building. It was very up-to-date and Austro-German in its interior decoration and furniture. German newspapers in holders were still hanging on the hooks, and letters in the racks were waiting to be called for. Although the place was crowded with officers, there was quite a noticeable absence of any excitement. Signor Bissolati and his secretary had just arrived, so we made a little group of four civilians amongst the throng of warriors. As may be imagined, it was a very animated and interesting scene, and every table was occupied. Little did the Austrians imagine a week before that such a transformation would come about. Our informant had exaggerated somewhat when he gave us to understand that the café was open and business going on “as usual.” The Grosses Café was certainly “open,” but it was only a café in name that morning, as there was really nothing to be got in the way of drink or food; not a bottle of wine or beer or even a crust of bread could be had for love or money.