“I have often thought that,” replied the Emperor, “but I have never found a soul willing to discuss it with me. When I meet other Emperors the same dreadful thought haunts all of us, but none of us dare speak of it, for we are watched night and day, and what we are to say to each other is written by young men in the Government Offices.” The Emperor began to cry. “Four million men have been killed since the war began, and everybody says it is my fault. I didn’t make the war, I didn’t, indeed I didn’t. It was not in my power to make war, any more than it is in my power to stop it. Horrible things have been done by the soldiers.” “Poor wretches!” said Siebenhaar. “How can they be anything but bestial, deprived as they are of all that makes life sweet?” “How, indeed?” asked the Emperor. “Thousands have died of dysentery, or cholera, and enteric and typhoid. Hundreds of thousands more of starvation and exposure. It is impossible, I tell you, impossible to prevent organisation breaking down. Contractors!” He shook his fists. “Ah! There is nothing contractors will not do, from sending bad food to insisting on being paid for food they have never sent. Ah! the villains! the villains! And to think that my name is being execrated throughout the world.” The Emperor looked about him uneasily. “And now, Herr Siebenhaar, what am I to tell them on my return? That your marvellous island is the gift of God to the Fatter people?” “Say nothing,” replied Siebenhaar, “except that Mr. Ultimus Samways wishes to see the war. We are neutral territory. If we have damaged Bondon we have in coming here cleared your minefields and we propose to keep your fleet bottled up and shall destroy it unless Mr. Samways returns in safety within a week.” “We have had a delightful talk and it has been refreshing to me to discover a philosopher who is greater than an Emperor.” Siebenhaar laughed and said he looked forward to the day when capitalists and contractors discovered that the world contained a power greater than their own. “I also,” said the Emperor, “possess an island. I shall be happy when the war is over and I can retire to it and live in peace and devote myself to the delightful and harmless pursuit of painting bad pictures.” He promised that an airship should be sent for Ultimus, and said good-bye cordially and regretfully. As he put his helmet on he said: “I have to wear this infernal thing, though it always gives me a headache.” “Now,” said Siebenhaar to Ultimus, “you have seen the unhappy individual who is called the man-eater of Europe.” “Was that the Emperor?” asked the chambermaid. “Why, they told me he had a tail and always walked about with bleeding baby’s legs in his hands!” XIV: WAR