To-day Luitpold Wolkenstein read no more
than the first article in his paper, but read it again and again.
"The Turkish fortress of Kirk Kilisseh has fallen . . . The Serbs, it is
officially announced, have taken Kumanovo . . . The fortress of Kirk
Kilisseh lost, Kumanovo taken by the Serbs, these are tiding for
Constantinople resembling something out of Shakspeare's tragedies of the
kings . . . The neighbourhood of Adrianople and the Eastern region,
where the great battle is now in progress, will not reveal merely the
future of Turkey, but also what position and what influence the Balkan
States are to have in the world."
For years longer than a dog's lifetime Luitpold Wolkenstein had disposed
of the pretensions and strivings of the Balkan States over the cup of
cream-topped coffee that sleek-headed piccolos had brought him. Never
travelling further eastward than the horse-fair at Temesvar, never
inviting personal risk in an encounter with anything more potentially
desperate than a hare or partridge, he had constituted himself the
critical appraiser and arbiter of the military and national prowess of
the small countries that fringed the Dual Monarchy on its Danube border.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257