" Meantime, in a
clearing of the Teutonic forest, their sages were rearing a Tree of
Cynical Wisdom, a sort of Upas tree, whose shade may be seen now lying
over the prostrate body of Belgium. It must be said that they laboured
openly enough, watering it with the most authentic sources of all
madness, and watching with their be-spectacled eyes the slow ripening of
the glorious blood-red fruit. The sincerest words of peace, words of
menace, and I verily believe words of abasement, even if there had been a
voice vile enough to utter them, would have been wasted on their ecstasy.
For when the fruit ripens on a branch it must fall. There is nothing on
earth that can prevent it.
II.
For reasons which at first seemed to me somewhat obscure, that one of my
companions whose wishes are law decided that our travels should begin in
an unusual way by the crossing of the North Sea. We should proceed from
Harwich to Hamburg. Besides being thirty-six times longer than the Dover-
Calais passage this rather unusual route had an air of adventure in
better keeping with the romantic feeling of this Polish journey which for
so many years had been before us in a state of a project full of colour
and promise, but always retreating, elusive like an enticing mirage.
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