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Updated: September 17, 2025
It will explain why I have entered this house without knocking, and have invited myself to luncheon. You see, sir, all this" and again he made the sudden, sweeping gesture "is mine." It speaks for Forrest's effect that, although reason told Ballin to doubt this cataclysmic statement, instinct convinced him that it was true. Yet what its truth might mean to him did not so convincingly appear.
Ballin, proposed to keep his advantage. "I will show you," he said. "Are my hands empty?" "Quite so," said the earl. "Keep your eyes on them," said Forrest, "so. Now, we will suppose that you have good reason to believe that I have stolen your horse. Call me a horse thief." "Sir," said the earl, entering into the spirit of the game, "you are a horse thief!"
Wretched little German hairdressers and bakers and so forth fled for their lives, to pay for the momentary satisfaction of the Kaiser and Herr Ballin. Scores of German homes in England were wrecked and looted; hundreds of Germans maltreated. War is war.
The next day Ballin called on me and said that the sensible people of Germany wanted peace and that without annexation. He told me that every one was afraid to talk peace, that each country thought it a sign of weakness, and that he had advised the Chancellor to put a statement in an official paper to say that Germany fought only to defend herself and was ready to make an honourable peace.
But there is room, surely, in others for many doubts." "Not in others," said Forrest, "who have been taught to know that two and two are four." "Have you documentary proof of this astonishing statement?" said Ballin. "Surely," said Forrest. And he drew from an inner pocket a bundle of documents bound with a tape.
"It's for instantaneous work at close range. One could probably hit a tossed coin with it, but one must have more weight and inches to the barrel and less explosion for fine practice." "What would you call fine practice?" asked Stephen. "Oh," said Forrest, "a given leg of a fly at twenty paces, or to snip a wart from a man's hand at twenty-five." Mr. Ballin rose.
Fred Kafer, by the way, furnished an interesting anachronism in that while he was one of the ablest mathematicians of his time in college he found it wellnigh impossible to remember his football signals! Let us not forget, too, Bal Ballin, who was a Princeton captain, and his brother Cyril.
He was one of the last of those workers in metals who once sent their masterpieces from Rome to the great cathedrals of the world; one of the last of the artistic descendants of Caradosso, of Benvenuto Cellini, of Claude Ballin, and of all their successors; one of those men of rare talent who unite the imagination of the artist with the executive skill of the practised workman.
I think an angel bringing glad tidings might have looked as Forrest did when, releasing the Earl of Moray, he turned upon the impulse and began to pour out words to Ballin.
"What's the matter with us?" said Alice, and she laid her hand upon Evelyn's. "Oh, you little rotters!" exclaimed the earl, whom they sometimes teased to the point of agony. "No man in his senses would look at you." "Right-O!" said young Stephen Ballin, who made the eighth at table. "They're like germs," he explained to Forrest "very troublesome to deal with."
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