There were no repinings at the non-arrival of the French and English, who might have saved Serbia. There was, the officers still said, probably some good reason why the Allies had not arrived. And even if this sentiment was only expressed to spare our feelings as British subjects, it showed good taste and a refinement worthy of an advanced civilisation.
The Serbian people whom I had met during the first six months had appealed strongly to me. Lovers of poetry and of peaceful arts; intelligent and imaginative; impressionable to new ideas; warm-hearted, gay, with a keen sense of humour; brave as soldiers, courageous as citizens; responsive to the best within reach, whilst aiming at ideals possibly beyond reach: how could they fail to awaken a sympathetic response? Is there any other of the Balkan nations which could more safely be entrusted with responsibility for the evolution of culture in the Near East, than our youngest ally? I had felt this strongly during their time of triumph, but I felt it more strongly in their time of trouble. Adversity, like X-rays, reveals the bones, and the marrow, too, within the bones; and if adversity reveals no weakness, the constitution may be reckoned sound.
My old friend, Captain Doctor Yovan Yovannovitch, from whom I had received many kindnesses, was present at the dinner, and he told me that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, had, in the morning, expressed a wish to see me. Accordingly, after dinner, I went, with the Captain, to the house in which the Prince was staying, and the Captain sent a messenger to ask if H.R.H. would like to see me now? Some important general was, at the moment, having audience, but the general was dismissed, and I was graciously asked to come in and have a talk. The Prince was in his study, sitting at his writing table, and we talked, in French, about Serbia, not as though she were dead, but as though she were a bride preparing in an ante-room of the world's cathedral, for union with the great ideal. Serbia is fortunate in possessing as heir-apparent, this intelligent, brave, and modest prince.
On Thursday, December 23rd, we must, without fail, start for Medua, or we might miss the last steamer, and we should then have to walk to Durazzo, over tracks, which, from all accounts, were, if possible, more difficult than those we had already met. Most of our ponies were now unfit for work till they had had rest and food, and we gave them to Headquarters, and kept six.
