"'Lenin speaking. Hearty greetings to the Hungarian Soviet's Proletarian Government, in particular to Comrade Bela Kun. I have just communicated your message to the Congress of the Communist Party of Bolshevik Russia. Enormous enthusiasm; we will send a report on the military situation as soon as possible. A permanent wireless communication between Budapest and Moscow is absolutely necessary. With Communistic greetings, Lenin.'" The cheering with which the speaker's first message had been met was entirely eclipsed by the terrific roar which went up as he read out Lenin's reply. Hats were thrown into the air, Red flags were waved frantically, and in the madness which ensued there was scarcely one present who realized the shame of it; the dishonour of the Hungarians, descendants of the fiercest fighters, of the proudest aristocracy in Europe, appealing to a foreign Government for instructions. So insidiously can propaganda work, the propaganda which had been secretly distributed in the Army, in the Navy, and throughout the workshops of Hungary for the past few months. The cankerous root is not more harmful to the animal body, the death-watch beetle does not rot the heart of wood so quickly, as the propaganda of the gospel of Bolshevism putrefies the common sense and saps the morality of a working people. "Comrades," shouted Gonnard once again, "well may you cheer at such excellent news--Russia and Hungary hand in hand. Together we will spread the seed of Communism. Already England is ripe to hail the Red banner, and German workmen are more than willing to throw off the shackles of their capitalist taskmasters. France but awaits the word, Italy seethes with discontent. The workmen of the world await the hour with eagerness, and will soon follow the glorious example of Hungary by throwing off the heavy mantle laid upon them by the _bourgeoisie_. "Comrades, it is but a matter of time," he boasted. "There is nothing, now, to stand in the way of Proletarianism and the Commune." From somewhere in the crowd a voice interrupted: "What about the Enemy of the Commune? What about the White Knight?" There was silence, broken by a sudden growl from the crowd. "Yes, what about the White Knight?" cried one. "What is the People's Council going to do about the Enemy of the Commune?" shouted another. Gonnard, bewildered and perplexed by this sudden turn to his oratory, gazed stupidly at the crowd, and gave no reply. "Speak louder. I cannot hear!" called some one waggishly, and there was a hoarse roar of laughter. "But I don't understand," Gonnard spluttered. "What do you mean?--what are you talking about?--the Enemy of the Commune?--the White Knight?--I don't understand!" "You are a fine People's Commissary! Never heard of the Enemy of the Commune? Ho! there's a fine comrade for you!" again some one from the crowd called out. Gonnard flushed a dull red. "Well, then," he cried out angrily, "supposing you tell me."