this world, and not the Kaiser, who is responsible for this war. But
for your solemn words pledging your country to neutrality, Germany
would never have forced the issue as she has done. Now it is for you
to repair the evil. I tell you that we want peace. The first
overtures may come ostensibly through Washington, if you will, but
they must come in reality from you."

The Minister leaned back in his chair. His was the calmness of
despair.

"You might as well ask me," he said simply, "to order our Fleet out
of the North Sea."

Mr. Sidney rose to his feet.

"I think," he advised, "that you had better try what you can do, Lord
Romsey. We shall give you little time. We may even extend it, if we
find traces of your influence. You have two colleagues, at least, who
are pacifists at heart. Take them on one side, talk in a whisper at
first. Plant just a little seed but be careful that it grows. We do
not expect impossibilities, only--remember what failure will mean to
you."

Lord Romsey looked steadfastly at his visitor. Mr. Sidney was tall
and spare, and there was certainly nothing of the Teuton or the
American in his appearance or accent. His voice was characterless,
his restraint almost unnatural. Relieved of his more immediate fears,
the Minister was conscious of a renewed instinct of strong curiosity.

"How can I communicate with you, Mr.--Sidney?" he asked.