Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1918-03-15

time all hearts beat as one, my
thoughts are carried back to the con-
gress of 1880, and / ask you, gentle
men: Are you immovably decided to
keep intact the sacred patrimOny of
our ancestOrs?"O
The deputies spring to their feet,
raise their hands as though swearing
to an oath and cry:
"Oui! Oui! Oui!"
The king continues: he strikes out
emphatic gestures with his free hand
below him the little Duke of Bra
bant looks up intently into his fathers
face, never takes his eyes OFF him.
What ARE the thoughts in that boys
mind? Will that scene come back to
him in after years? And how, when,
under what circumstances?
The silence is intense, too intense
to be broken, and now and then ex-
carnations break out, Immediately
smothered by that imperative Ssh!
Sh!" The king needs not, but reads
on, finishes with that moving phrase:
"J'ai fol dams nos destinees. I'm
pays qui Sc defend s'impose au re-
spect de tous; ce pays ne peril pas.
Dieu sera avec nous dams cette cause
juste! Vive la Belgique independ-
ante!"
('T have faith in our destiny. A
country which defends itself compels
the respect of everybody; that country
does not perish. God will be with us
in this just cause! Long live indie
pendant Belgium.O
Applause Unrestrained
The mad, passionate applause
breaks all unrestrained now; banker
weeping eyes. The king seizes his
KEPT, The queen and the little princes
rise, and the king stalks out, sword
clanking; away on stern business
now!
And l find myself leaning over the
balcony rail, a catch in my throat,
my eyes moist.
Then that stiffness again in the
chamber, intense, vibrant with emo
ton, the thrill of patriotism, the sense
of tragedy, the consciousness of as
sisting at an historic scene; the depu-
ties remain standing, and the queen
makes her sweeping courtesies again,
right and left, then with the royal
children and her suite, retires.
Then there is a universal inhalation
in the chamber, a long breath, and
Baron de Brocqueville, the minister
of war and premier, is opening his
portfolio, taking out the pages of his
speech, standing up.
To Arms!
"A la tribunel A la Tribune!" the
deputies cry, and he marches down,
climbs up into the tribune, stands
there, looks about him, bows. A hand
som man, M. de BrocqueviIle; and
striking figure there in the tribune, in
that moment; tall, svelte, distinguish
ed, in black frock coat, curly hair,
smart moustaChe, the ribbon of the
Order of Leopold in his boutonniere.
He speaks dramatically, reading the
German ultimatum, the Belgian reply,
asks almost peremptorily for a vote OF
supplies, and, at the end, shifting the
tribune, his seal ring striking sharply
on the hard wood, he concludes with:
La parole est aux armes!" 1.-THE
word is, to ARMS"
The session is over, though the sem
ators and the deputies are to hold
formal sessions to ratify the govern
ment's acts and to vote supplies. But
the dramatic tableau is done and we
turn to speak to one another-and
then drift out of the gallery. And
as we go, the Prince Koudacheff comes
up to me, takes me aside and asks me
to take over his legation in case he has
to go away. / tell him that l shall be
honOred to do so, of course.
On our way out the word went
about that the papal nuncio wished
us to remain and meet him mo-
ment in an ante-room. Monsetg-
neur Tacci, as the only ambassador
at the Belgian court, was the doyen
of the corps. though the Count Clary,
who had been at Brussels longer than
any of us, usually acted in that ca
pacity. We gathered about him,
then, in one of the ante-chambers,
and he stood there in the midst Of
us, in his violet robes, very distin-
guished with his dark aristocratic
features, as finely cut as a cameo,
and his delicate hands that were so
expressive, speaking to us in his soft
Italian voice that lent its accent to
his French. He limited at the pos
sibiIity of the court and govern
ment going to Antwerp, and said
that, in such an eventuality, we
should have to accompany them.
Then the sunshine once more and