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It Might Have Happened To You

CHAPTER VI—IT IS NOT SAFE

Word Count: 1199    |    Released on: 19/11/2017

lished in the midst of disaster a representative government. He is a patriot and man of the world in the finest sense. He was wounded in the Great War and has lived throu

y—more like a page out of The Prisoner of Zenda through which one walked as a living character. At the top of the staircase we were challenged by halbardiers, in medieval uniforms not dissimilar from those of the Swiss Guards. In an ante-room we were requested to remove our coats and to prepare for the interview. After a wait of not more than five minutes, we were summoned. Passing alon

far distant date the peace of Europe may depend. Admiral Horthy is a cleanshaven, square-faced man, with reso

a bribe to other nations. This would not matter so much if the wheat-lands were under cultivation. But they are not. The wheat-lands apportioned to Roumania were divided among peasants who had not the capital to work them. They were compelled by their Government to accept them under the threat that, if they refused, they would be conscripted into the army. As a consequence, when the world is crying for food, large areas of Hungarian tillage in Roumanians hands are lying idle. They are like the engines

he remedy?

ot triumph. Least of all economic injustice. My job at the moment is to sit on the lid and prevent men who do not know that it

your people are sta

lethargy. The nations who had won only thought of themselves. Now they are beginning to think on broader lines—this drive to save our children that you are having in America is

"Do you mean that Hungary

pens, many States of Central Europe will go Bolshevist; Hungary will be the only State you will be able to trust. Poor Hungary, whom you have sho

righting Hungary's wrongs sa

to work. But our hands are——" He broke off and pressed his hands together as if they were manacled. "How can we wo

floor a man in a cassock was kneeling. He held a crucifix. In a secret, murmuring flow of words he was praying. Before him lay a human wax-work, who was newly dead; he had collapsed when help was within handstretch. He was a young man, certainly less than thirty, bleached with under-nourishment. He was neatly clad in clothes which were thread-bare; he might have been a shop-keeper or a cler

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