“Generally speaking, the success of a campaign depends upon circumstances impossible to prophesy,” replied the General. “But it may at once be stated that the Americans are not ready for war, and war necessitates long and careful preparation.” “Come, General,” cried Madame de Courtrai, “tell us that these American wretches will be beaten!” “Their success is doubtful,” replied the General. “I might even go so far as to say that it would be paradoxical, and an insolent contradiction of every system employed by those nations which are essentially military nations. As a matter of fact, the victory of the United States would constitute a condemnation of the principles adopted throughout Europe by the most competent soldiers, and such a result is neither likely nor desirable.” “Good!” cried Madame de Courtrai, smacking her withered sides with her bony hands, and shaking her head, with its rough, grey locks that looked like a fur cap. “Good! our friends the Spaniards will be victorious! _Vive le roi!_” “General,” said M. Lerond, “I am most interested in what you say. The success of our friends would be well received in France, and who knows if they might not be the means of stirring up a Royalist and clerical movement in this country!” “Pardon me,” said the General. “I make no prophecy regarding the future. As I have said before, the success of a campaign depends upon circumstances impossible to foresee. All I can do is to take into consideration the quality of the conflicting elements, and from this point of view the advantage is certainly with Spain, although her fleet does not include a sufficiency of naval units.” “Certain symptoms,” said the Duke, “would point to the fact that the Americans have already begun to repent of their temerity. I have heard it positively stated that they are panic-stricken. They live in daily dread of seeing the Spanish ironclads appear on their coasts. The inhabitants of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia are fleeing inland _en masse_; in fact, a general panic exists.” “_Vive le roi!_” repeated Madame de Courtrai, with fierce delight. “What about little Honorine?” asked M. Lerond. “Is she still favoured with the visitations of Notre-Dame-des-Belles-Feuilles?” “Yes,” replied the dowager duchess, with some embarrassment. “It would be a good idea,” ventured the ex-deputy, “to make an official report of the child’s statements of what she sees and hears when in her trances.”