Curiosity made him a little ahead of time, but he found the premier awaiting him in his study, free from interruption or eavesdropping.

In the shadow of the table lamp the old premier looked his years.  His definite features were easy material for the caricaturist, who does not deal in halftones.  A near view of them was not attractive.  They had the largeness which impresses the gallery from the floor of a parliamentary chamber, where delicate lines of sensibility and character lack the quality which the actor supplies with his make-up.  As is often the case with elderly statesmen, his face seemed like that of the crowd done boldly as a single face, while his shrewd eyes in a bed of crow’s-feet, when they lighted to their purpose in confidence, expressed his understanding of the crowd and its thoughts and how it may be led.

From youth he had been in politics, ever a bold figure and a daring player, but now beginning to feel the pressure of younger men’s elbows.  Fonder even of power, which had become a habit, than in his twenties, he saw it slipping from his grasp at an age when the ’downfall of his government meant that he should never hold the reins again.  He had been called an ambitious demagogue and a makeshift opportunist by his enemies, but the crowd liked him for his ready strategy, his genius for appealing phrases, and for the gambler’s virtue which hitherto had made him a good loser.

“You saw our communique to-night that went with the publication of the Browns’ despatch?” he remarked.

“Yes, and I was glad that I had been careful to send a spirited commander to that region,” Westerling replied.

“So you guess my intention, I see.”  The premier smiled.  He picked up a long, thin ivory paper-knife and softly patted the palm of his hand with it.  “We have had many discussions, you and I, Westerling,” he said.  “But to-night I’m going to ask categorical questions.  They may take us over old ground, but they are the questions of the nation to the army.”

“Certainly!” Westerling replied in his ready, confident manner.

“We hear a great deal about the precision and power of modern arms as favoring the defensive,” said the premier.  “I have read somewhere that it will enable the Browns to hold us back, despite our advantage of numbers.  Also, that they can completely man every part of their frontier and that their ability to move their reserves rapidly, thanks to modern facilities, makes a powerful flanking attack in surprise out of the question.”

“Some half-truths in that,” answered Westerling.  “One axiom, that must hold good through all time, is that the aggressive which keeps at it always wins.  We take the aggressive.  In the space where Napoleon deployed a division, we deploy a battalion to-day.  The precision and power of modern arms require this.  With such immense forces and present-day tactics, the line of battle will practically cover