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In the end, Mr. Balfour came back with a solid hundred majority behind
him, and at once set to work to, if possible, make up for lost time. The
moment of Fate had, however, gone by for ever. During the precious days
that had been fooled away in party strife, French gold and Russian
diplomacy had done their work.
The day after the Conservative Ministry returned to power, France
declared war, and Russia, who had been nominally at war with Britain for
over a month, suddenly took the offensive, and poured her Asiatic troops
into the passes of the Hindu Kush. Two days later, the defection of
Italy from the Triple Alliance told Europe how accurately Tremayne had
gauged the situation in his now historic speech, and how the month of
strange quietude had been spent by the controllers of the Double Alliance.
The spell was broken at last. After forty years of peace, Europe plunged
into the abyss of war; and from one end of the Continent to the other
nothing was heard but the tramp of vast armies as they marshalled
themselves along the threatened frontiers, and concentrated at the
points of attack and defence.
On all the lines of ocean traffic, steamers were hurrying homeward or to
neutral ports, in the hope of reaching a place of safety before
hostilities actually broke out. Great liners were racing across the
Atlantic either to Britain or America with their precious freights,
while those flying the French flag on the westward voyage prepared to
run the gauntlet of the British cruisers as best they might.
All along the routes to India and the East the same thing was happening,
and not a day passed but saw desperate races between fleet ocean
greyhounds and hostile cruisers, which, as a rule, terminated in favour
of the former, thanks to the superiority of private enterprise over
Government contract-work in turning out ships and engines.
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