His Excellency's right fist was up in the air ready for a blow at the
fellow's chest for approaching him so disrespectfully, but, instead, he
laid his hand soothingly on the poor idiot's shoulder.

"I suppose you have come from the hospital to listen to the music,
Captain?" he said, winking to his adjutant. "It's a long ride to the
hospital in the street-car. Take my automobile. It's quicker."

"Auto--quicker," echoed the lunatic with his hideous laugh. He patiently
let himself be taken by the arm and led away. He turned round once with
a grin at the glittering medals, but the adjutant pulled him along.

The general followed them with his eyes until they entered the machine.
The "storm-signal" was hoisted ominously between his eyebrows. He was
boiling with rage at such carelessness in allowing a creature like that
to walk abroad freely. But in the nick of time he remembered the
civilian at his side, and controlled himself, and said with a shrug of
the shoulders:

"Yes, these are some of the sad aspects of the war. You see, it is just
because of such things that the leader must stay behind, where nothing
appeals to his heart. No general could ever summon the necessary
severity to direct a war if he had to witness all the misery at the
front."

"Very interesting," the correspondent breathed gratefully, and closed
his book. "I fear I have already taken up too much of Your Excellency's
valuable time, but may I be permitted one more question? When does Your
Excellency hope for peace?"