other states carved from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the commercial supremacy of Trieste, which depends upon this same hinterland, would quickly disappear.  On the other hand, those Italians whose vision has not been distorted by their passions clearly foresee that, should the final disposition of Fiume prove unacceptable to the Jugoslavs, they will almost certainly divert the trade of the interior to some Slav port, leaving Fiume to drowse in idleness beside her moss-grown wharfs and crumbling warehouses, dreaming dreams of her one-time prosperity.

Italy’s third reason for insisting on the cession of Fiume is political, and, because it is based on a deep-seated and haunting fear, it is, perhaps, the most compelling reason of all.  Italy does not trust the Jugoslavs.  She cannot forget that the Austrian and Hungarian fractions of the new Jugoslav people—­in other words, the Slovenes and Croats—­were the most faithful subjects of the Dual Monarchy, fighting for the Hapsburgs with a ferocity and determination hardly surpassed in the war.  Unlike the Poles and Czecho-Slovaks, who threw in their lot with the Allies, the Slovenes and Croats fought, and fought desperately, for the triumph of the Central Empires.  Had these two peoples turned against their masters early in the war, the great struggle would have ended months, perhaps years, earlier than it did.  Yet, within a few days after the signing of the Armistice, they became Jugoslavs, and announced that they have always been at heart friendly to the Allies.  But, so the Italians argue, their conversion has been too sudden:  they have changed their flag but not their hearts; their real allegiance is not to Belgrade but to Berlin.  The Italian attitude toward these peoples who have so abruptly switched from enemies to allies is that of the American soldier for the Filipino: 

    “He may be a brother of William H. Taft,
    But he ain’t no brother of mine.”

The Italians are convinced that the three peoples who have been so hastily welded into Jugoslavia will, as the result of internal jealousies and dissensions, eventually disintegrate, and that, when the break-up comes, those portions of the new state which formerly belonged to Austria-Hungary will ally themselves with the great Teutonic or, perhaps, Russo-Teutonic, confederation which, most students of European affairs believe, will arise from the ruins of the Central Empires.  When that day comes the new power will look with hungering eyes toward the rich markets which fringe the Middle Sea, and what more convenient gateway through which to pour its merchandise—­and, perhaps, its fighting men—­than Fiume in friendly hands?  In order to bar forever this, the sole gateway to the warm water still open to the Hun, the Italians should, they maintain, be made its guardians.

“But,” you argue, “suppose Jugoslavia does not break up?  How can 14,000,000 Slavs seriously menace Italy’s 40,000,000?”