I felt there was no time to lose if I wanted to get finished in the half-hour, so hinted at his resuming the pose for a few minutes longer. He did so at once, and I ventured to tell him in a joking way that he would make a capital model. “Well, I am as active now as I ever was,” he replied, taking me seriously, “and I can ride and walk as well now as I could when I was a young man.” This I could well believe, because he looks as “hard as nails,” and chock full of energy and determination, as the Austrian generals have discovered to their undoing. I had now completed my rough sketch sufficiently to be able to finish it in the studio. The General expressed his gratification at my having done it so rapidly, so I suggested another ten minutes some other day to put the finishing touches. “Come whenever you like, I shall always be pleased to see you,” replied His Excellency genially. Although, as I have said, there was no outward evidence of the declaration of war making any difference in the conduct of the campaign, rumours soon began to be persistently busy again, and it became pretty evident that something big was going to happen on the Carso before the weather broke up and the autumn rains set in and put a stop to active operations for some time. There had been a good deal of talk of operations pending in the vicinity of Monfalcone, so I got permission to accompany a Staff Officer who was going there one morning. I had always wanted to see the place and its much talked of shipbuilding yards, but curiously enough this was the first opportunity I had had of going there. My companion was one of General Cadorna’s aides-de-camp, so we went in one of the big cars belonging to Headquarters. We started at the usual unearthly hour to which one had become accustomed and which, as I have pointed out, is delightful in the summer, but is not quite so fascinating on a raw autumn morning before sunrise. I was very disappointed when I learned that we should probably be back in Udine “in time for lunch” unless something untoward occurred to force us to stay away longer; as I had been looking forward to an extended run that would last the whole day, but as I was practically a guest on this occasion I could say nothing. My companion, like so many Italian officers, spoke French fluently, and turned out to be a very interesting fellow; and as he had been stationed for some time at Monfalcone before going on the Staff, he knew the district we were making for as well as it was possible to know it. The distance from Udine to Monfalcone is, roughly, the same as from London to Brighton, and we went via Palmanova, Cervignano, and Ronchi. It was a bitterly cold morning, with an unmistakable nip of frost in the air, so although I was muffled up to my ears I was gradually getting frozen, and my eyes were running like taps. It may be imagined, therefore, how I was envying my companion his big fur-lined coat.