THE CHARIOT OF 
 
 THE SUN 
 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/chariotofsunfantOOpoco 
 
THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 TALES OF WESTERN LIFE 
 
 THE RULES OF THE GAME 
 
 THE ARCTIC NIGHT, Chapmafi &> Hall 
 
 THE BLACKGUARD „ „ 
 
 ROTTENNESS 
 
 A FRONTIERSMAN (Autobiography) 
 
 [Gay (S^ Hancock 
 CURLY 
 
 SWORD AND DRAGON 
 
 [Hodder (2r» Stoughton 
 
 THE FRONTIERSMAN'S POCKET 
 BOOK (Edited), John Murray. 
 
THE CHARIOT OF 
 
 THE SUN 
 
 A FANTASY 
 
 BY 
 
 ROGER POCOCK 
 
 LONDON 
 
 CHAPMAN & HALL, Ltd. 
 
 1910 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 Prologue ..... 
 
 I. Chancellor of the Empire 
 
 II. The Master of Lyonesse 
 
 III. Our Lady the Queen . 
 
 IV. The Coronation 
 V. The Gathering Storm . 
 
 VI. The Penance Chamber . 
 
 VII. The Taming of Lyonesse 
 
 VIII. The Mother of Parliaments 
 
 IX. The Royal Prerogative 
 
 X. The Dawn of the Terror 
 
 XI. The World-Storm . 
 
 XII. The Third Day 
 
 XIII. The Queen's Messenger 
 
 XIV. The Story of the Ships 
 XV. Cast out of Heaven 
 
 XVI. The Queen's Days . 
 
 XVII. Her Majesty in Council 
 
 XVIII. The Queen's Madness . 
 
 XIX, The Tale of the Dun Horse 
 
 XX. Victory .... 
 
 XXI. The Queen's Retreat . 
 
 XXII. The Last Battle . 
 
 XXIII. Prisoner of Love . 
 
 Epilogue .... 
 
 PAGE 
 
 vii 
 I 
 
 24 
 38 
 45 
 54 
 70 
 
 88 
 96 
 109 
 122 
 131 
 143 
 161 
 
 174 
 187 
 204 
 224 
 232 
 244 
 260 
 269 
 288 
 302 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 London, 
 
 December 31st, 2000. 
 
 This is the story of the World-Storm. Leaders in 
 every field of thought have described the events 
 of the year 1980, but we who have come aged and 
 shaken out of that chaos, know well that the half 
 was not told. 
 
 The World-Storm was a human affair, and human 
 events are ever based on love. For the love of 
 woman a man gives all the labour of his life, or in the 
 loss or lack of love will cast his life away. For the 
 love of women men have built cities, or burned them, 
 won thrones or lost them, have staked things present 
 and the things to come. This is the story, then, of a 
 man's love for a woman. And if the life of a man is 
 a love tale, so is the life of a nation, which ends when 
 the people cease to love their country. And so is 
 the life of mankind, which will end when the love of 
 God dies out from the human heart. Life is a plant 
 which has its roots in love. 
 
 Reading over many histories of the World-Storm, 
 by divines, by students, and admirals of the air, the 
 whole of which have failed to reach down to the 
 truth : I think that these eminent exact thinkers 
 were mostly dry at the roots. Only a lover can 
 write history. 
 
viii PROLOGUE 
 
 We set svvcct Margaret on the Imperial Throne, 
 we prayed for her, and all the millions of our prayers 
 like subtle spirits wrought upon her soul creating 
 her a queen. We looked again, and behold she was 
 august, inspired, beautiful, terrible — England ! Who 
 but a lover could write of such a queen ? To me, a 
 plain man who has loved, it is given that I should tell 
 of that transfiguration, and how the lovely child, 
 translated by our prayers moved through the 
 darkness. 
 
 Looking back upon those days when frightened 
 and starving, we saw the old order changed, and the 
 Millennium bom, I see the persons of the drama, 
 vague, gigantic, fighting in a region of mist and flame 
 to one great end of Peace. Yet I knew all the time 
 that they were human, a woman, and certain men 
 who loved and sinned, who fought and suffered. The 
 evil was burned out of us, the good survives ; the 
 scorched and shaken earth is purified. 
 
 The Greeks, who were very wise, invented that 
 old myth of Phaeton who dared to drive the chariot 
 of the Sun, but lost his head, and failed, and burned 
 the world. 
 
 There is to be no more war, so I doubt if there 
 will be any more progress. Take this heresy if you 
 will, as the maunderings of an old fighter; but 
 have not the ages of suffering been ever the ages of 
 growth ? Strength is the child of pain, and in her 
 agony the world gave birth to saints and heroes. 
 The millennial peace will never know the like. Never 
 again will there be such a woman as our Lady the 
 Queen, such men as John Brand, or Lord Sydney. 
 
PROLOGUE ix 
 
 Their age is memorable, their race illustrious, and 
 for my part, I do not greatly care to live on after 
 them. My work is done, and sitting at my window 
 as I write these last words of my prologue, I see with 
 dim eyes the roofs of London reaching away into the 
 night, the moonlight faint upon her hanging gardens, 
 her palaces and towers, her spires and soaring domes. 
 The bells have been tolling the hours of the dying 
 twentieth century, but now they have broken into 
 one great peal of triumph, they are ringing in the 
 Millennium. *' Lord, now lettest thou thy servant 
 depart in peace ; For mine eyes have seen Thy 
 Salvation." 
 
THE 
 
 CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 I 
 
 CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPIRE 
 
 " Margaret, by the Grace of God, of the United 
 Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and of the 
 British Dominions beyond the Seas, Queen, Defender 
 of the Faith, Empress of India." 
 
 In the Year of our Lord, 1980, and on the third 
 day of June in that year was Margaret crowned. 
 
 Three weeks before the Coronation the sun was 
 setting over St. Michael's woods, and changed the 
 grey walls of Ulster House to luminous orange. 
 A purple bloom of shadow lay on the terrace, but 
 full in the glow from the windows sat the master of 
 the house asleep. The cane chair creaked at times 
 under his weight as he changed dreams. Dressed in 
 the evening costume of the period — claret-coloured 
 broadcloth, and silk stockings, low shoes with 
 garnet buckles, and white ruffles — he was a picture 
 of dignified innocence and stately rest : His Grace, 
 the Duke of Ulster, Chancellor of the federated British 
 Empire, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, full 
 of years, honours, and a good dinner. 
 
 B 
 
2 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Close to him, in the ivy of the wall, a pair of ring- 
 doves cooed and crooned between love and slumber. 
 They were newly wed, and all the world was at rest. 
 
 Above the cedars to the eastward a ship rose like 
 a planet, her aeroplanes in red glory against the deeps 
 of heaven. She swept across the south, hovered for 
 an instant, drooped her ethereal wings, and flashed 
 in narrowing circles downward until she fell out of 
 the afterglow and loomed vast in the lower shadows. 
 With feathery lightness she poised on the lawn, her 
 gauze propellers singing themselves to sleep with 
 the whirr of humming-birds. Then from under the 
 gloom of her shadow came a man — a gaunt old man 
 in a grey military cloak — who climbed the steps of 
 the terrace and crossed the gravel space until he 
 came in front of the lighted windows. There the 
 man stood looking down with austere disgust upon 
 the sleeping Chancellor. His ship had risen into the 
 afterglow before the visitor moved a chair and sat 
 down, still intently studying Lord Ulster's face. 
 
 Under that prolonged stare, the Chancellor 
 stirred in his sleep, and muttering to himself, 
 awakened, lifting his heavy eyes. In the deepening 
 shadows he saw that silent motionless figure, tried 
 to dispel the impression with a wave of his hand, 
 then found himself broad awake, face to face with 
 Nicholas IV. Emperor of Russia. 
 
 At once the Chancellor rose to his feet, and made 
 his royal guest welcome with many a courteous 
 phrase. He offered apology that his servants were 
 all at a church concert this Sunday evening, and that 
 neither himself nor his son had been at hand to 
 receive the Imperial yacht with proper honours.. 
 
CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPIRE 3 
 
 He offered hospitality, invited his Imperial Majesty 
 to enter the house. 
 
 His words disappeared into the air, slow cold 
 eyes followed his every movement, and the Emperor 
 waited in freezing silence. Motionless, chilled, 
 shocked, dismayed, the Chancellor stayed his speech. 
 
 " Your Grace will understand," said the Emperor, 
 " that I do not come as a friend." 
 
 Germany and France had been gathering arma- 
 ments, relations were strained to the breaking point, 
 war might be declared at any moment, the allies 
 were only held from attack by the ominous silence 
 of Russia. Then Ulster had won the Emperor to 
 his side, and an alliance was now in treaty between 
 the Russian and the British Empires which would 
 make the threatened war impossible. It was in 
 the moment of the Chancellor's triumph that 
 Nicholas IV. came to his house an enemy. 
 
 " For your own sake," said the Emperor, coldly, 
 " you'd better see that we are not overheard." 
 
 Ulster seized this chance of covering his con- 
 fusion, entered the house, surveyed the empty study 
 and returned, saying again that his household were 
 all at the church. The Emperor had taken one of 
 the garden chairs, his back to the windows, and 
 thoughtfully looked out upon the garden, his long 
 lean fingers tapping a cigarette. By a gesture he 
 told the Chancellor to sit down. 
 
 " There is," he began in his purring, sibilant 
 Enghsh, " a young Indian prince now resident in 
 England." 
 
 The Chancellor had been racking his brain to find 
 the meaning of the Emperor's coldness. His head 
 
4 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 was lowered in thought, but now he glanced up 
 sideways under his heavy brows. 
 
 " Lots of them," said he. 
 
 " I speak," said the Emperor, " of the Maharajah 
 of Haidar." 
 
 " I remember, sir," answered Ulster, thought- 
 fully. " He is serving in Her Majesty's Bodyguard." 
 
 " Exactly," said the Emperor in a tone which 
 forbade further comment. " This young prince is 
 descended, your Grace, from the ancient royal line 
 of the Moguls. On his elevation to the throne of 
 Haidar, he was recognized by the Moslem as a sacred 
 personage. He demanded of the Indian Govern- 
 ment the restoration of the ancient Peacock Throne, 
 which had been taken from his ancestors by the 
 Persians, and later secured by the British from the 
 Persian Treasury. He demanded also the right of 
 a royal salute, claimed to be addressed as a Royal 
 Highness, and asked for certain privileges of main- 
 taining armed forces within his kingdom of Haidar. 
 All these demands were granted." 
 
 " Sir," the Chancellor spoke satirically. " these 
 statements are of the profoundest interest." 
 
 " They are," said the Emperor. " The con- 
 cessions granted to this prince actually endangered 
 the British supremacy in India. The restoration of 
 the Peacock Throne met with violent protests both 
 from the loyal princes and from the English press. 
 When this throne was brought to Haidar, its arrival 
 was attended by portents, so-called miracles, a 
 ferment in the bazaars, riots in many cities, and at 
 last a revolt in the North West Provinces. Of 
 course revolt was crushed. 
 
CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPIRE 5 
 
 " The presence of Prince Ali, perfectly loj'al as 
 he was throughout, became so dangerous that he 
 was hurried out of India, and gradually the country 
 settled down. But the memory remained of gallant 
 English officers who were slaughtered, mutilated, of 
 innocent children dashed against stone walls, of 
 women who were — we will pass that by. Whoever 
 gave orders for the granting of Prince Ali's claims 
 was guilty of all that, the massacres, and the 
 vengeance. The man who had to face the rage 
 of England then, might have envied Judas Iscariot. 
 The Viceroy of India claimed to have received orders 
 from the India Office in London. Then the Secretary 
 of State for India proved that he had issued no such 
 orders. So the Viceroy shot himself. Your Grace 
 was at that time Secretary for India." 
 
 A bluish pallor had overspread Lord Ulster's face, 
 and he answered nothing. 
 
 It was then that the Marquess of Sydney, the 
 Chancellor's only son, returned from the church. 
 Entering the house from the north, and making no 
 sound upon the carpets, he passed through a cur- 
 tained doorway into the study. In the afternoon 
 he had been writing a letter at the desk set between 
 the middle windows, and now, returning to finish it, 
 he was glad to find the room unoccupied. He sat 
 down, took the letter from his blotting-pad, and 
 considered what he had written. 
 
 Then he heard the striking of a match outside 
 on the terrace, and the sound of his father's voice. 
 Lord Sydney was slightly annoyed, uncertain for 
 the moment whether to take his writing elsewhere. 
 Some neighbour, old Pollock probably, had dropped 
 
6 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUxM 
 
 in to talk politics and would stay as usual lor supper. 
 His father was still speaking in low, even tones, 
 not likely to disturb him. Lord Sydney became 
 absorbed in his letter. It is curious to note that 
 pens and matches were still in those days used by 
 old-fashioned people. 
 
 Outside, the Emperor, striking a match, and 
 lighting his cigarette, heard the Chancellor patiently. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I understand, of course. Your 
 Grace was, comparatively speaking, a poor man, and 
 could not as such aspire to the Chancellorship. A 
 legitimate ambition thwarted by want of means, a 
 career in jeopardy — yes, I understand. As to 
 Prince All's demands they seemed quite innocent — • 
 a diamond throne, a royal salute, a few such trifles. 
 He offered you two millions sterling if the Viceroy 
 could be moved to grant his claims. The Viceroy 
 was moved, had no writings to show in defence — 
 and shot himself. The claims were granted, and 
 babies were dashed against stone walls. His Grace 
 of Ulster, with two millions of money, rose to the 
 Chancellorship. It might be awkward for my Lord 
 Duke if these facts became generally known." 
 
 The Chancellor gripped the arms of his chair, and 
 leaning forward laughed in his throat. 
 
 " Your Majesty," he answered hoarsely, " has 
 acted with rare prudence. I am grateful for the 
 opportunity of dealing with this disgraceful slander, 
 which might otherwise have endangered our relations 
 with your Imperial Majesty's Government. The 
 fabrications of some secret service agent " 
 
 " Enough, my Lord; the agent in question was 
 my agent, the money with which Prince Ali bought 
 
CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPIRE 7 
 
 you was my money, and here," the Emperor pro- 
 duced from under his cloak the famous Russian 
 papers, " I hold the written transactions." 
 
 "Am I a child, sir," cried Ulster, testily, " to be 
 frightened with bogies ? " 
 
 Nicholas opened the papers and bent forward that 
 the Chancellor might see them. 
 
 *' Is that enough," he asked, "or do you want to 
 see more ? Look," he turned the papers slowly page 
 by page, " at this, and this, and this ! " 
 
 " Forgeries," answered the other boldly, 
 " forgeries all. How could your Majesty be so 
 deceived ? " 
 
 Nicholas with a smile turned to the last page, 
 " and this ? " 
 
 The Chancellor's eyes seemed starting from his 
 head, his jaw dropped, a moan broke from his 
 throat ; then with a sharp effort he drew himself 
 together, and pointed at the papers. 
 
 " That — that — " he gasped, " that accuses me, 
 much more it accuses you. That you, an Emperor, 
 set such a trap is a disgrace crying aloud to Europe, 
 that — that your Majesty is unfitted for a throne. 
 I dare you, I challenge you. Publish those papers, 
 and not an ambassador would remain at the Russian 
 capital ! " 
 
 " That I set the trap ? " Hot fury darkened the 
 Russian's" face, " This scullion work is not in the 
 hands of kings. Would you make rne your 
 partner ? " 
 
 " Sir," Ulster instantly shot out his arm, extended 
 upwards over the papers. " Look ! The yacht has 
 signalled ! " 
 
8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The Emperor folded the papers, and jammed them 
 back into the breast of his cloak. 
 
 " Let her signal," he answered ; " I am not your 
 partner, neither am I your dupe." 
 
 " Take the two millions," cried Ulster, " and give 
 me these papers." 
 
 " I do not bargain with your Grace," answered 
 Nicholas. 
 
 " What do you want me to do ? I'll resign the 
 Chancellorship, retire, anything ! " 
 
 " And cheat me of what I bought ? " 
 
 " If you expose me, you take my life." 
 
 " I have taken it, and paid for it such as it is." 
 
 " You can't force me to live ! I repeat, to live ! " 
 
 " As you please. If you die, these papers shall be 
 published as a memorial volume. If you disobey me, 
 they shall be published. If you attempt to cheat me, 
 they shall be published. You have sold yourself to 
 me, and I claim you." 
 
 Ulster shrank back into his chair, covering his 
 face, and for some time remained in silence. At last 
 in despair he muttered into his breast — 
 
 " What are the terms ? " 
 
 " I will give you back these papers when you have 
 earned them. You shall live on. Chancellor of the 
 British Empire, honoured, reverenced. When you 
 die a state funeral will attend you to the grave, and 
 another truly British monument will disfigure that 
 poor old Abbey." 
 
 Ulster cast about for a weapon, and the Emperor, 
 divining this, chuckled. 
 
 " Under my cloak," he said, " I've got an 
 automatic, over your house my yacht. You need 
 
CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPIRE 9 
 
 have no fear. Indeed, I know the limitations of 
 your power as Chancellor, and shall not press too 
 hard. Now as to terms : I permit you, my Lord 
 Duke, to save your country from the Franco-German 
 invasion. But you will complete the Anglo-Russian 
 Treaty on the terms proposed by my ambassador," 
 
 " My colleagues would never consent," cried 
 Ulster, " I should be thrown out of office." 
 
 " Tell your colleagues that unless the treaty is 
 signed, Russia will join the Franco-German alliance. 
 My share is India. They will consent. 
 
 " Secondly, your Grace, I have to tell you that 
 my brother the Grand Duke Alexander Alexandro- 
 vitch was lately slighted by the young Queen. She 
 shall marry him." 
 
 " Sir, she would die first ! " 
 
 " She shall marry him, and your Government 
 shall make the offer of her hand. 
 
 " Thirdly, my Lord Duke, I will be secured from 
 any future treachery. You will personally entrust 
 me with the Formula of the Fleets." 
 
 When England's great enemy demanded the 
 Formula of the Fleets, Ulster's brain refused to 
 receive his meaning. The naval airship of the 
 period carried no stored force, but the power driving 
 her engines was flashed to her through space from 
 the nearest fortified station of the Admiralty. Each 
 station gave its ships a power-field extending two 
 thousand miles in all directions. Thus the Home 
 station was a fortified position in the coal measures 
 of Staffordshire. Groups of stations covered Canada, 
 the West Indies, and South America ; South Africa 
 was in the power-field of the Victoria Falls, Central 
 
10 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Africa was controlled from the White Nile, West 
 Africa from the Niger Valley. Another chain of 
 power-fields centred in the Ocean Fortresses : 
 Gibraltar, Malta, Alexandria, Aden, Colombo, Ran- 
 goon, Singapore, Hong Kong. From the Arctic 
 regions to the Antarctic ice, no corner of the world 
 was secured from the visitation of our fleets. To 
 debar foreign navies from using our stores of power, 
 each ship had her engines keyed to an exact adjust- 
 ment known as the Formula of the Fleets. Given 
 that formula, a foreign ship could traverse the whole 
 planet. The British Empire and the United States 
 used one formula, entrusted only to the Chancellor, 
 the President, and the Adjusters-General, and one 
 can readily understand that this key of space con- 
 ferred most awful powers. 
 
 And were the formula changed without due 
 warning, every ship afloat would be plunged through 
 space to destruction. 
 
 " The Formula of the Fleets," Ulster repeated 
 vaguely. " You ! " Then he seemed to awake. 
 " You devil ! " he cried furiously. " No ! " 
 
 He choked, he could find no utterance, but 
 wrung his hands, and, starting to his feet, shook his 
 arms upward at the heavens. Then he saw the 
 Emperor's cold face between the lamplight and the 
 moonlight smiling, and at the sight drew back. A 
 strangled sob broke from him. " I am trapped, 
 shamed, broken ; I have sinned, but still I am an 
 Englishman, and all my years are given to England's 
 service ! " 
 
 The Chancellor had back his dignity and a new 
 courage. 
 
CHANCELLOR OF THE EMPH^E ii 
 
 " The claims of the Russian ambassador insult 
 this nation ; the proposals of that drunken and dis- 
 gusting beast, your brother, insult my sovereign ; 
 the demand for the Formula of the Fleets is a deadly 
 insult to myself. You have forfeited all claims to 
 treatment as a sovereign ; but such claims as you 
 have presumed to make to me, I shall lay before my 
 colleagues, before the Empire, and before the world. 
 As to your charges against me, they come not from a 
 friendly prince, but from an enemy too base even for 
 the courtesies of war. Our people will not see the 
 sin of the Chancellor in this crime of Russia." 
 
 The Emperor's cruel eyes glittered, the moon- 
 light caught a gleam from his teeth. 
 
 " Most noble patriot," he answered softly, " most 
 courteous statesman, no doubt the English can be 
 gulled into a belief that the Russian Emperor came 
 secretly and at night, and behaved in an unseemly 
 and ridiculous manner. They would even believe 
 that I danced on your terrace by moonlight. Proof 
 would at once appear that I never left my house at 
 Pera, and the mad Chancellor would become the 
 laughing-stock of Europe. Consider the cartoons ! " 
 
 Ulster sank back into his chair, and his face 
 writhed, for the most heroic are unarmed against 
 ridicule. 
 
 " Moreover," the Emperor smiled, " already a 
 copy of the documents I have shown you has been 
 placed by an Englishman in the hands of the editor 
 of the Times — sealed, and awaiting my orders. In 
 these papers there is no reference to Russia, only to 
 certain transactions between Prince Ali and his 
 Grace the Duke of Ulster. Russia does not appear 
 
12 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 in such affairs of bribery, fraud, and betrayal. After 
 the Chancellor's disgrace, and shameful end, the 
 Germans and the French will make declaration of 
 war, will be joined by Russia, and this country swept 
 from the map of Europe which it has marred too 
 long. The British Empire will be divided among 
 the allies. I have offered to give you back your life, 
 and the immortal fame of saving your country. 
 Refuse, and I give you to shame and death, the 
 British Empire to destruction. Of course, if you 
 want my mercy, you will apologize first for insulting 
 me." The Emperor stood up and waved his hand, 
 " I have called my yacht," he said not unkindly. " I 
 give you this minute to surrender." 
 
 Far up in the heavens a white light flashed like a 
 star, and from the great spaces of the night, a shadow 
 swooped down, winged, swift, instantly growing 
 gigantic against the moon, then gleaming in her rays. 
 The Chancellor watched spellbound, and as he 
 watched the terror seized his brain, the doom of a 
 great Empire, condemned to this death, abandoned 
 by God. 
 
 Then the agony of a broken man rang out in one 
 great cry, " I have surrendered ! " and the echoes 
 of walls and trees heard him, and answered. 
 
II 
 
 THE MASTER OF LYONESSE 
 
 When on the terrace of Ulster House, Nicholas of 
 Russia dealt heavily with the Chancellor to his ruin, 
 one witness was so placed that he heard all. The 
 witness was the Duke of Ulster's son, James, 
 Marquess of Sydney. It is a very pleasant thing to 
 hold this gentleman in memory, to think of him as he 
 was in life, and at that time in the thirtieth year of 
 his age. He was a tall man, nervous rather than 
 strong, his face very fair and comely. In habit he 
 was lean, bronzed with the sun ; in bearing most 
 knightly and courteous ; in manner a little cynical 
 with a grave humour. But that tells nothing of the 
 quality in his eyes, and in his smile, which made one 
 love and trust him. None of the pictures or statues 
 to his memory do justice to that wonderful quality of 
 the man, nor can a written word call back the charm. 
 It was on the nth day of May, 1980, that he 
 heard the passages between the Emperor and his 
 father. It was on Friday, the 30th, four days before 
 the Coronation, that he moved. There were rail- 
 ways in those old-fashioned times, lines of a single 
 rail. Catching the 9 a.m. express from Paddington, 
 Lord Sydney reached the Land's End district by 
 noon, and alighted at Lyonesse. 
 
14 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 This was his first visit to the etheric city, and as 
 he left the terminus to enter Brand Street, he was 
 astonished at the grandeur of the place. Thanks to 
 the mildness of the Cornish climate, palms and 
 acacias sheltered the pavement. Down the long 
 vistas of sub-tropic trees there were fountains spray- 
 ing white splendour into the sunlight, and statues of 
 golden bronze lurked in the shadows. The street was 
 lined with shops and theatres, traffic throbbed upon 
 the causeway, the pavements were thronged with 
 people. The town, even in 1980, was large, its 
 population numbering half a million, a grey granite 
 city walled about on three sides by the sea cliffs. 
 The streets were filled with a tumult of affairs, but 
 where they converged upon St. Buryan Square, there 
 was a resting-place of lawns and trees shadowed by 
 groups of buildings. Upon the western frontage of 
 the square, stood a rough-hewn palace some acres in 
 extent, the office of John Brand III. 
 
 Homely and plain was the master's room in that 
 palace. The threadbare carpet, the shabby furni- 
 ture, the queer old plans and pictures on the walls 
 were relics passed down from another age. In that 
 chair an American of the nineteenth century had 
 dreamed, from the books of that case had learned, at 
 that table planned — and the result was Lyonesse. 
 The relics spoke of poverty, of research, of noble 
 patience, and the founder's grandson kept these 
 things as a reminder. 
 
 The American sat at his desk, and one might 
 have known him for Lyonesse, so mighty his physical 
 strength, so shabby and neglected his dress, so 
 steady his labour. They say he was a hard man a^ 
 
THE MASTER OF LYONESSE 15 
 
 that time, rugged, avaricious, rather feared than 
 liked. 
 
 A sealed envelope was brought to him, with 
 explanation that a man had called who would not be 
 denied and had given trouble. Brand opened the 
 cover and within found a visiting card. 
 
 *' Trooper the Marquess of Sydney, 
 
 Her Majesty's Bodyguard." 
 
 HiG face brightened as he read ; gladly he sent a 
 welcome to his visitor, gave orders that he was not 
 to be disturbed, and in the interim of waiting set all 
 his work aside. 
 
 He rose at Lord Sydney's entrance. " Well, old 
 fellow," he spoke heartily, as they shook hands, " is 
 it ten years ? " 
 
 " Fourteen since our last fight at school. I'm 
 awfully glad to see you. Brand." 
 
 " You've forgotten the black eyes I gave you ? " 
 
 " I'd be sorry to fight again ; you're much too 
 strong. But your nose. Brand, you must re- 
 member my sign manual, and I was so proud of 
 that nose." 
 
 Brand stroked his blunt nose thoughtfully, 
 " Most tender memory ! " 
 
 Lord Sydney smiled, and as the other led him to 
 a seat — 
 
 " We promised to write to each other." 
 
 " We were very young," Brand chuckled. " So 
 you went soldiering, I to my trade." 
 
 " Each to his tribe, and God for all," said Sydney. 
 " I used to envy you." 
 
 " I wanted to be a soldier," answered Brand. 
 
l6 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " But, Sydney, why all this secrecy ; why put your 
 card in a sealed envelope ? " 
 
 The soldier's face turned grave. " I have good 
 reason. These walls," he looked anxiously about 
 him, " have they ears ? " 
 
 " Sydney, this isn't London." 
 
 " May I look round ? " 
 
 Brand laughed, but his visitor walked to the door 
 and opened it suddenly, making a rapid survey of the 
 ante-room. Other doors he examined which led to 
 the safe, and to Brand's private chambers ; then 
 considering the walls and hangings, returned to his 
 place. 
 
 " I should have been followed from London," he 
 explained, " but I hired an actor to personate me, 
 and he is leading a fine chase of spies to Stamboul." 
 
 " Who has you watched ? " 
 
 " My father, and when he knows I've been here 
 you'll catch the infection. I warn you, Brand." 
 
 " My dear fellow, your father " 
 
 The Guardsman's eyes flashed ominously, his 
 jaws hardened. 
 
 " What do you know of my father ? " 
 
 " Chancellor of the Empire, his Grace the Duke 
 of Ulster, K.G., and a lot more twaddle." 
 
 " By the Almanac, yes, and head of the Gold 
 Party which sits up to hate you all night. Come, 
 speak out ! " 
 
 " My dear fellow, I never met your father. In 
 politics I like fighting him, and I think he likes 
 fighting me. He would never speak evil of me as a 
 private man." 
 
 " Or you of Ulster ? Well, I can't blame your 
 
THE MASTER OF LYONESSE 17 
 
 courtesy, Brand, I don't understand your politics. 
 They say that you finance the Labour Party. You've 
 been accused of SociaHsm." 
 
 Brand chuckled. " Have you heard about my 
 eating babies ? " 
 
 " Even a cannibal might love his countr}^ 
 Brand, I'm in horrible trouble, and I've come to you 
 for help." 
 
 " You've come to me for help. Go on, old chap." 
 
 " In politics you can accuse a man without any 
 feeling of hatred ? " 
 
 " I would not have him butchered." 
 
 " Not even if your opponent granted the Peacock 
 Throne to Ali of Haidar ? " 
 
 Brand's face flashed with anger. " My friend, 
 spare me all mention of that," he said. " Is it a kind 
 thing, Lord Sydney, to tear the old wound open ? " 
 
 " Does it hurt me less ? I'd go on if it killed 
 both of us, and you shall listen." 
 
 " Perhaps you don't know," answered Brand, 
 " that my young brother saw his wife crucified, 
 before the rebels gouged out his eyes and burned 
 him." 
 
 " Would you treat the man as a mere political 
 opponent who granted the Peacock Throne to Ali 
 of Haidar ? " 
 
 " The Viceroy died by his own hand. He is 
 beyond our vengeance." 
 
 " Vengeance ? " cried Sydney, " my words bite 
 deep. Is vengeance in your code of political cour- 
 tesy ? I tell you the man who granted Prince All's 
 claims is still alive, within the reach of vengeance. 
 He drove the Viceroy to suicide, and thought that 
 
 c 
 
i8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 under heaven there was no witness left to rise against 
 him." 
 
 " That is beyond belief ; there are limits even to 
 treachery." 
 
 " Are there such limits ? The man who granted 
 Prince Ali's claims received not thirty pieces of 
 silver, but two million pounds. He lives." 
 
 Brand turned away his face. 
 
 " Prince All was an agent, Brand, an agent of 
 Russia, and the bribe of two million pounds was 
 Russian money. The man who received that price 
 of blood has not hanged himself, neither were his 
 eyes gouged out, nor was he burned like your brother. 
 He bought with it the Chancellorship of the British 
 Empire. He is my father." 
 
 Brand's iron-hard face was sterner than ever now. 
 " Have you gone mad ? " he asked. 
 
 " Prove me insane or dreaming, or bewitched. 
 Prove my father an honest man, and England safe. 
 It would be all right then. Brand. Do you think it 
 is a little thing to tell ; that it is easily said ? I, 
 Ulster's son, that was a gentleman, am now a spy. 
 His shame has tainted me, and so the leprosy will 
 spread from generation to generation. I suppose," 
 he added, " you think I'm hysterical." 
 
 Leaning forward, Brand laid his hand upon Lord 
 Sydney's shoulder. 
 
 " There's some mistake," he said. 
 
 " I tell you that my father, Ulster, is sold to 
 Russia. He has forced upon the Government a 
 degrading treaty." 
 
 Brand was silent. " He has given our Lady, the 
 Queen, to that drunken beast Alexander." 
 
THE MASTER OF LYONESSE 19 
 
 Brand was silent. 
 
 " He has divulged the Formula of the Fleets ! " 
 
 " Sydney ! " Brand rose overthrowing his chair, 
 then withholding himself by main force, sat heavily 
 upon the desk. " Go on," he said hoarsely, " these 
 statements need to be proved." 
 
 " Time enough for that," Lord Sydney flung 
 himself beside Brand's knees upon the desk, and 
 buried his face in his arms. " I've lived in a dream 
 world," he said in bitterness, " a world which I 
 built for myself, where one's father could be re- 
 spected, one's mother honoured. All things were 
 
 as they should be ; one could play the game " 
 
 He looked up, and his eyes were reddened. " I was 
 a boy in that fool's paradise — but now, ah, well," 
 he threw his head back, looking out at Brand with 
 half-closed eyes, " I suppose I've got to be a man." 
 Then he told Brand of the Emperor's visit to Lord 
 Ulster, and how he had overheard what passed 
 between them. 
 
 " Have you proof ? " asked the American. 
 
 " I realized," said Sydney, " that I must have 
 proof. I watched my father's face from day to day, 
 and when he returned to town, I went with him. 
 For once he was glad of my company, while with 
 treason upon treason he bought the papers which 
 Russia held against him. By his face I knew when 
 the Government consented to the Treaty, when they 
 agreed to the Russian marriage, when he betrayed 
 the Formula. He had earned the papers then, I 
 don't think he ever slept until last night, until he 
 had paid the price. I was alone with him last night 
 when the Emperor's messenger came. We had 
 
20 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 finished dinner, the long, dull dinner, the servants 
 cleared out, and Ulster had his wine. The messenger 
 was shown in, bearing a despatch box, and I did 
 the honours, while Ulster unlocked the thing. I saw 
 him take out a sealed package and a letter which 
 he tried to conceal from me. The messenger drank 
 our health, and Ulster escorted him to the door. 
 I had time to slip a drug into Ulster's wine. 
 
 " Yes, he slept almost before he had read the 
 Emperor's letter. It was a queer letter. Once a 
 month hereafter His Grace would receive a messenger 
 and to him display this package with unbroken seals 
 — on pain of instant vengeance. A little of that 
 treatment would tame any Chancellor, The sense 
 of being watched, the horror lest the package mis- 
 carry, the fear ever with him, the curse that must 
 be borne in silence year by year, then death and 
 exposure. It would have driven him stark staring 
 mad ! I have relieved my father of that curse, his 
 spies are chasing me to Constantinople. Here is 
 the package — the proof of what I have said, and 
 you shall break the seals." 
 
 Brand opened the Russian papers, the trans- 
 actions between Ulster and Prince Ali, which page 
 by page he examined. He filled a briar pipe, 
 lighted, and smoked it through before he spoke. 
 
 " I think," he said at last, " that this is a strong 
 chain of evidence, but only in converging evidence 
 is there proof. There is ground here for a charge 
 against the Duke, not for his conviction ; and all 
 his friends would rally to his defence, making him 
 stronger than ever. The value of these papers is 
 his evident fear. Now as to the secret treaty." 
 
THE MASTER OF LYONESSE 21 
 
 Lord Sydney produced the Draft, which the 
 master read, 
 
 " There is ground here for an attack upon the 
 Government. And as to the Formula ? " 
 
 " Only my word," answered Sydney. " You 
 doubt my word ! " 
 
 " Not I. But imagine this case tried by the 
 House of Lords, the judges being Ulster's friends 
 with the fear of their own downfall if they failed 
 him." 
 
 Lord Sydney rose distracted and paced the floor, 
 unnerved, broken. 
 
 " And you are going to fail me ? " he cried. 
 
 " Easy, boy, easy," said Brand, relighting his 
 pipe, " that kind of play never scored at school. 
 The games must be played more soberly to be won." 
 
 " Don't preach at me, Brand," said the other 
 roughly. " Ah, forgive me ! If you only knew — 
 you've never seen her, have you ? But if you saw 
 the Queen, you would understand, for she is brave 
 as a lion, stainless as the lilies, her voice makes us 
 mad with love ; yet she is our Lady, and we scarcely 
 dare to look her in the face. And she is to be sold 
 to infamy ! Oh, God, what can I do, what can I do 
 to save her ? " 
 
 " Lord Sydney, you forget yourself." 
 
 My lord looked at him, his eyes narrowing, his 
 mouth hardened, his whole face freezing with self- 
 suppression. 
 
 " Yes, that is so, Mr. Brand. Back to the facts 
 then," he laughed nervously, " we have to fight the 
 Chancellor, we have to fight the Government. Then 
 there is Russia to fight, and Europe." 
 
22 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Brand went to the window, and there stood 
 looking out. Beyond the pavement and the trees 
 rose all that city which his fathers and himself had 
 built upon the storm-swept moors of a wild head- 
 land, his walls the cliffs, his moat the Atlantic ; and 
 this bastion of our island stronghold was not un- 
 worthy to guard the British Realm. 
 
 Until that day we knew of Lyonesse as a strong 
 man, and an humble, so we thought ; for in the 
 twelve years since he came to power, the hard- 
 hitting, rough-fighting master of industry had never 
 lost his habit of grave self-command, or let any 
 breath of passion sway his justice. A man must be 
 true to win the confidence of friends, but great to 
 win the trust of enemies. 
 
 Now the deeps were moved, and elemental 
 forces stirred within him. Henceforward he was 
 to suffer, to rejoice, to pity, to slay within no 
 boundaries of self-discipline, to love with irre- 
 sistible passion, to strike with overwhelming rage. 
 One does not praise or blame the hurricane. 
 
 Brand came back to the desk, sat down in his 
 chair, and laid his hand upon the Russian papers. 
 
 " One would think," he said, " that the man who 
 owned these papers, owned this Chancellor. He 
 obeyed Russia — will he fight me ? " 
 
 " There is the whole party of the capitalists," 
 answered the other ruefully, at which Brand was 
 aroused. 
 
 " Will they fight me ? " he said. 
 
 " But the allies will declare war ! " 
 
 " Am I not Lyonesse ! " 
 
 " You cannot fight three nations." 
 
THE MASTER OF LYONESSE 23 
 
 " My father warned me," said Brand, thought- 
 fully, " and somehow I always knew that sooner or 
 later I must take the field to save Britain. No man 
 has seen etheric power in action." 
 
 Sydney breathed hard. " You called it once the 
 Chariot of the Sun." 
 
 " The Chariot of the Sun. Yes. Heaven send 
 I may never have to use etheric power for war." 
 
Ill 
 
 OUR LADY THE QUEEN 
 
 In the wondrous romance of our Island history the 
 reigns of three Enghsh Queens stand out with 
 singular splendour. First came Elizabeth the Great, 
 then Victoria the Good, and now in the fulness of 
 time reigns Margaret the Fair. 
 
 At the end of his long reign the old King built 
 on the site of Buckingham House, a great white 
 palace for Margaret. Above the marble walls 
 terrace upon terrace the hanging gardens bloomed, 
 and tier on tier of gleaming colonnades ; then pearl- 
 white domes broke the long lines above, and gemmed 
 pavilions flanked the central towers. Not that 
 Margaret cared for palaces. Her mind ran upon 
 fighting, and she showed the old King books about 
 the Varangian Guard of Greek Byzantium, the 
 Grand Musketeers of Muscovy, the Mousquetaires 
 of France. For her sake he took liberties with the 
 Ancient and Honourable Corps of Gentlemen-at- 
 Arms, a nice piece of antique frippery which he 
 changed into a standing regiment generally to be 
 known as the Queen's Blackguards. This force he 
 quartered in the palace and made it a very good 
 nursery to train young officers for the Imperial 
 Army. 
 
 24 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 25 
 
 To enlist, a lad must undergo the severest tests 
 of mind and body, then pass the school of arms. 
 Then the Queen granted to him chain mail and 
 helmet of silver, a black cloak charged with the 
 royal arms, the sword and the spurs. For officers 
 the armour was of gold, the cloak scarlet ; for un- 
 dress, a suit of woven gold or silver. Quarters were 
 given in the palace, but the trooper must provide 
 his own sustenance, and for his servant a trained 
 man who rode in the rear rank of his squadron. 
 The discipline was rigid, and what with training for 
 the Imperial army, there was little time for mischief. 
 They were the last cavalry of the civilized world. 
 
 Such were the Queen's toys, palace and guard, 
 beyond all jurisdiction save her will. 
 
 The Plutocracy ruled, the Imperial court only 
 remained in the realm on sufferance as a venerable 
 fiction, and nobody ever dreamed that Margaret's 
 playthings, accepted by the nation as a joke, were 
 destined to prove a most momentous fact. For the 
 present it was pretty to see the fair maid, ruddy, 
 sunburnt, wilful, playing with her glittering 
 pageantry of state in the white palace. So the rose 
 of England bloomed in a garden of swords, and on 
 the eve of the Coronation no little cloud had risen as 
 yet in warning. Looking back through a score of 
 years it seems a wonder passing belief that June, 1980, 
 dawned with a cloudless heaven, and the earth at 
 peace. 
 
 One glance at the calendar brings it all to 
 mind. Only last Friday Sharon won the Derby, 
 Jim Carrington up, wearing Tom of Lancaster's 
 colours — rose red, and how the people cheered the 
 
26 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 young prince afterwards ! On Saturday Her 
 Majesty was at the Colosseum to close the Pan- 
 Anglican games, and with her own hands crowned 
 the victors with wreaths. The Maharajah of 
 Gwalior gave a Nautch at his palace in Kensington. 
 On Sunday the great Dignitaries assembled in town 
 for the Coronation, attended a special service at 
 St. Paul's. On the 2nd of June, Monday morning, 
 the Gigantic arrived — one of Mr. Brand's etheric 
 liners — with a contingent from the army of the 
 United States in honour of the Coronation. 
 
 Word came in the afternoon that Mr. Partridge 
 with his yacht Meteor had won the America Cup 
 at St. Louis. This evening was set for the Mas- 
 querade at Devonshire House, and there was to be 
 a torch-light procession of the City Liveries. As to 
 the palace, that was mostly concerned on Coronation 
 eve with matters of apparel, the burnishing of jewels, 
 nervous rehearsals, and feverish attempts at repose. 
 
 In the portico, three saddled horses, overcome 
 with heat, mouthed their chained bits, and swished 
 their lazy tails. In the guardroom, midway upon 
 the alabaster stairs, three gentlemen of the guard. 
 Queen's orderlies in waiting, tried not to fall asleep. 
 They had taken off their casques with the lions, but 
 still that ridiculous chain mail was suffocating. They 
 yawned for want of better occupation, talked to 
 keep themselves in a state of decent wakefulness. 
 
 " Ho-la," said MacNeill, rolling over in his chair, 
 " I'll grill my other side now. By the bars of Hades 
 I'd be cooler at home." MacNeill was half Spaniard, 
 a banker's son from Venezuela. " Ali," he turned to 
 the Indian prince who lounged by the wall, " you 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 27 
 
 know all about this business to-morrow. What's it 
 like ? " 
 
 Lazily the Prince lifted his eyes — big, soft, 
 gentle eyes they were. 
 
 " My dear MacNeill, what business ? " 
 
 " Why the Coronation, of course ; weren't you 
 crowned when they made you King of Haidar ? " 
 
 The Prince laughed easily. " It wasn't a crown, 
 we have a green umbrella." 
 
 " The ancestral gamp," said MacNeill, irre- 
 verently. " Is Haidar so wet ? What do they 
 worship — ducks ? " 
 
 " Allah, el Allah ! " 
 
 The Prince scarcely breathed the awful name, 
 and his eyes were hard now. 
 
 MacNeill apologized with much politeness, and 
 asked if the State Umbrella was old. 
 
 " Very old." Prince Ali smiled. 
 
 " Holy ? " 
 
 " As my Faith." 
 
 " Won't keep out the wet ? " 
 
 Still smiling, the Prince drew off his gauntlet, 
 and swept it softly across MacNeill's face. 
 
 So long Lord Sydney had watched Prince Ali in 
 silence, now he came forward, and, with a little bow, 
 laid claim to the gauntlet. 
 
 " Your Highness," he said respectfully, " as a 
 reigning sovereign cannot fight this cad, or he would 
 never have dared to insult you. You," he said, turn- 
 ing upon MacNeill, " will apologize to the Maharajah 
 or I'll thrash you within an inch of your life." 
 
 " I didn't insult him," growled the offender, 
 sulkily. " I don't understand what you're driving at." 
 
28 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " My dear Prince," Lord Sydney turned his back 
 upon MacNeill. " He would not understand more 
 if I thrashed him." 
 
 " You're quite right, Sydney," Prince AH ac- 
 cepted the return of his gauntlet. " I have so few 
 friends that one more," he clasped Lord Sydney's 
 hand, " has the larger place in a full heart. I shall 
 remember." 
 
 Just then an Equerry came down the stairway, 
 and gave to MacNeill a letter from her Majesty to be 
 despatched. The trooper, muttering wTathfully, 
 set on his helmet, took up his gloves and sword, and 
 swaggered away down the stairs. Without, they 
 heard his horse dancing with excitement, break off at 
 a canter into the distance. Sydney and the Prince 
 laughed together. 
 
 " Maharajah," my Lord Sydney laid his hands 
 very tenderly upon All's shoulders. " Do you 
 believe that I am your friend ? " 
 
 " Surely you have proved it more than once." 
 
 " Will you promise me not to be offended if I ask 
 a still more personal question than even MacNeill 
 dared ? " 
 
 The beautiful dark eyes glowed. " Go on, my 
 dear Sydney." 
 
 " What if I hurt, Maharajah ? Your heart has 
 changed to us since you came to England ; you 
 know now that we are not all brutes. You know 
 that some of us, unbelievers, are not to be bought ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " An ominous flush 
 burned in Prince All's face. 
 
 " When you bought my father with two million 
 pounds, did you know where the money came from ? " 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 29 
 
 Under the dark skin came pallor, and concen- 
 trated rage leaped to Prince Ali's eyes, as he recoiled. 
 
 " Understand this, my lord," said the Maharajah 
 of Haidar. " One cannot hate an enemy from the 
 very heart unless he has been a friend. Withdraw 
 that question ; I give you the chance to withdraw. 
 To no other man living would I allow so much." 
 
 " I must repeat my question, Maharajah." 
 
 " I'll have your life for this ! " 
 
 " And afterwards ? How could you possibly 
 remain in the household ? Come, deny the charge. 
 Prince, and let me beg your pardon." 
 
 "ByAzrael " 
 
 " Don't swear at me. I give you a week to leave 
 Her Majesty's service." 
 
 A young man, a civihan, was coming up the stair- 
 way, a big boy with blue eyes and freckles, \\'ho 
 carried a letter in his hand. Lord Sydney turned to 
 him as he reached the stairhead. 
 
 " Can I serve you ? " asked the guardsman, 
 courteously. 
 
 The boy drew nearer. " H you please," he said 
 nervously, " this letter is for the Adjutant." 
 
 " A rookie ? " 
 
 " My name is Browne, sir, and I " 
 
 " Fresh from the incubator ? " 
 
 " I've passed," said the boy in shy triumph, 
 " but the Adjutant ? " 
 
 " I think the Adjutant is out on the tiles. Let me 
 introduce you ; Mr. Browne, Trooper Ali." 
 
 Prince Ali bowed stiffly and walked away. 
 
 " Won't you sit down ? " Lord Sydney offered a 
 chair. 
 
30 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The boy sat down, and Sydney joining him, he 
 produced a cigarette case. 
 
 The trooper appeared to be shocked. " Put it 
 away," he whispered. " We don't smoke — bad for a 
 man in training." 
 
 From a syphon on the table beside him he filled 
 a glass with sparkling water, a delicately flavoured 
 draught, which the boy accepted wondering. 
 
 " Don't you drink wine or " 
 
 " Never breathe the word ! We must keep in 
 condition, with the Tournament due next month, or 
 the Tommies will carry off half our trophies. What 
 games do you play, Mr. Browne ? We want new 
 blood badly, especially in the cricket field. I'm 
 captain of the first eleven." 
 
 " I don't play, though." 
 
 " Are you a decent aerial yachtsman ? " 
 
 " I'm a savage," cried the boy humbly, but 
 Sydney had set him quite at ease. 
 
 " A savage ? " 
 
 "I'm from the province of Yukon." 
 
 " Where on earth is that ? " 
 
 " In arctic Canada. My old man has cattle." 
 
 " In the Arctic ? " 
 
 " Yes, a six months' day, and a six months' 
 night. I tell you it's an awful thing for a cowpuncher 
 to face you fellows." 
 
 " A what ? " 
 
 " Cowboy." 
 
 " But I thought that cowboys and dodos and 
 mammoths and all those things were extinct — 
 swept away in the nineteenth century. A real live 
 cowboy ? " 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 31 
 
 The lad blushed. " I was raised in the saddle, 
 and it's a three-hundred-mile ride across the ranche." 
 
 " But cows ! " 
 
 The boy laughed at Sydney now. " No, reindeer, 
 and musk oxen. We have three hundred thousand 
 head of stock, besides raising pelts," 
 
 " What are pelts ? " 
 
 " Silver fox skins, sea otter, beaver, musquash." 
 
 The boy was straining every fibre of his being 
 to win acceptance from this courtly man of the town. 
 
 " What a jolly outdoor life," said Sydney ; 
 " tell me more, do you " 
 
 A faint sound of spurs arrested the trooper in 
 mid speech. He instantly jammed on his casque and 
 sprang sharp to " attention." In the curtained 
 doorway opposite an officer appeared in golden 
 armour ; Sydney stood forward at the salute. 
 
 " A recruit, sir." 
 
 The boy went trembling and presented his letter. 
 
 " Hum — Mr. Browne ? " 
 
 The boy blushed. 
 
 " We have your credentials, Trooper Browne, 
 which are approved." He glanced over the letter. 
 " I see that you passed with honours in horsemanship 
 at the school of arms. Report at the Mess dinner to 
 take the oath, after which you will be presented 
 when her Majesty permits. Trooper Sydney, take 
 charge of this gentleman." 
 
 As the Adjutant passed on towards the State 
 apartments, a sergeant of the corps came running 
 down the stairs, but stood aghast at the sight of 
 his officer, and tried to conceal a large green card- 
 board box. 
 
32 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Sergeant Dymoke," the Adjutant gave signs 
 of impatience ; " carrying parcels here ? " 
 
 Dymoke grinned uneasily, dropping the box as 
 he came to the salute, 
 
 " Forgive the Queen's champion, sir, for bearing 
 the Queen's favours." 
 
 Now the Dymoke has from time immemorial in 
 England a vested right of appearing at the Coronation 
 mounted and clad in plate armour, to cast his 
 gauntlet on the floor of Westminster Hall, and there 
 challenge all comers to joust a routrance on behalf of 
 his sovereign's right to the throne of this kingdom. 
 
 " I don't see," said the Adjutant, suavely, 
 " what the Queen's champion has to do with that 
 box of gloves." 
 
 " I intercepted these, sir," said Dymoke, " at 
 the door of the private rooms ; they are a gross of 
 white gloves for her Majesty. I want to wear my 
 Lady's favour to-morrow, and this is the first thing 
 I've managed to steal for months," 
 
 " Pardon, sir," said Lord Sydney, saluting ; 
 " but though we can't all wear boiler plate like 
 Dymoke, every trooper in the Guard wants to bear 
 our Lady's favour," 
 
 " My Lord," the Adjutant smiled, " are we 
 unfortunate officers to be left out ? Sergeant, have 
 one of her Majesty's gloves placed at every cover in 
 the Regimental Mess, and pass the word for each man 
 to fasten the Queen's favour on his helmet. If she 
 is angry, she shall punish the lot of us — but see that 
 no outsider gets a chance." 
 
 The boy was beyond surprise by this time, and, 
 like a colt broken of shying, was introduced to the 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 33 
 
 men on duty. He was shown the armoury, mess- 
 room, club-rooms, baths, stables — all that splendid 
 barrack which fronted the palace. 
 
 Then Sydney took him to the room allotted to 
 his use, and the lad's heart beat high as he put on 
 the undress uniform of the corps. 
 
 " Do you feel like a savage now ? " asked Sydne}', 
 laughing. 
 
 " I don't know how I feel." 
 
 The lad was changed beyond knowledge, his 
 bronzed skin glowing against the silver, and if his 
 face was made in the rough, his limbs were a matter 
 for boasting. 
 
 " We're all savages," said Sydney, " all savages, 
 we English, under our skins. Ever seen anj' fighting, 
 Mr. Browne ? " 
 
 The boy's eyes glistened. 
 
 " How I wish " he sighed, " but there's been 
 
 no big war for thirty years." 
 
 " When you live on a volcano which hasn't been 
 in eruption for thirty years — look out." 
 
 " But do you think " 
 
 " Do you think," said Sydney, " that we wear this 
 confounded livery for fun ? Do you think we've 
 given up smoking, drinking, late hours — and all the 
 rest — from piety ? Do you think we drill hours a 
 day for want of other exercise ? Wait until you've 
 been a few days in town, and then you'll know." 
 
 The lad was thinking things which had no words ; 
 and when that evening he sat at dinner in the 
 banqueting hall of white marble, surrounded by all 
 the circumstance of Margaret's incomparable court, 
 he could not trust himself to speak. He rose with 
 
34 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 the rest when the trumpets sounded, he put his 
 lips to his glass when the vice-president cried — 
 " Gentlemen — the Queen ! " — but a little tear ran 
 out of his left eye. He saw as through a mist the 
 glittering splendour of the scene, and wanted to 
 shout when the band played the National Anthem. 
 
 The Captain, Prince Rupert of Gloucester, had 
 come forward to the front of the dais, with the other 
 officers grouped about him. Then one of the 
 trumpeters called a summons. 
 
 " Attend, Trooper Sydney." 
 
 " Come on," said Sydney roughly to the lad, and 
 all eyes were upon them as they marched up the hall 
 to the dais. 
 
 " Sir," said Lord Sydney, " I present Trooper 
 Browne." 
 
 " Trooper Browne, kneel." 
 
 The lad bent his knee to the ground, and the 
 Captain spoke again. 
 
 " I bid you lay your hands in mine." 
 
 Tremulous, the lad held out his hands until the 
 Captain clasped them in his own, and began in- 
 differently to deliver the great oath based upon 
 Alfred Tennyson's code of Honour : 
 
 " And swear 
 To reverence the Queen as if she were 
 Your conscience, and your conscience as the Queen. 
 To break the heathen and uphold the Christ. 
 To ride abroad redressing human wrong. 
 To honour your own word as though your God's. 
 To speak no slander, nay, or listen to it. 
 To live a life of purest chastity. 
 To love one maiden only, cleave to her 
 And worship her with years of noble deeds." 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 35 
 
 Then the air rang with music, while the Captain, 
 Lord Sydney attending as a squire, put upon the 
 lad a tunic of mail, and on his head the lion-crested 
 casque, bound spurs upon his feet, hung a sword 
 from his belt and bade him in his life and to his 
 death be ever a Christian, a gentleman, a soldier, in 
 the service of Almighty God, the British Empire, 
 and our Sovereign Lady. 
 
 The stately ritual was scarcely over, the regiment 
 had not begun to disperse, the men just relieved 
 from guard were still clattering in for dinner, when 
 the great doors swung open at the back of the dais, 
 and instantly every man in the room sprang at 
 attention. 
 
 For the usher had announced—" Her Majesty," 
 and Margaret, attended by her ladies, entered the 
 mess-room. 
 
 " Cousin," said our Lady to the Captain, " we 
 have come to demand the head of Sergeant Dymoke." 
 
 The Captain passed the word, and the Queen's 
 Champion came forward to make obeisance." 
 
 " Sergeant," said our Lady, whose voice rang 
 through the silent place, "you are charged with 
 stealing my gloves. Guilty or not guilty ? " 
 
 " Guilty, Madame," said the Queen's Champion, 
 prompt to the word. 
 
 " You seem to be mightily pleased. I demand 
 the gloves." 
 
 " I have but one left, Madame, and that next my 
 heart." 
 
 " And where are the rest, pray ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Madame." 
 
 But every man in the room had produced a glove 
 
36 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 to wave in triumph, and the officers themselves were 
 first in the offence. 
 
 " So this shameful theft has been committed by 
 all m}' lords and gentlemen of the Guard. Do 3'ou 
 all plead guilty ? " 
 
 The hall rang with the triumphant answer. 
 
 " Then," the Queen's voice sounded more than 
 severe, " we pronounce sentence. Your punishment 
 shall be a full-dress mounted parade, with no 
 excuses, at the stroke of the next hour." 
 
 There was a general gasp of consternation. 
 
 " We have been dull all day, a prisoner in the 
 hands of our governess, but to-night we are muti- 
 nous, we shall take the air and ride with our Guard. 
 Dismiss ! " 
 
 The Guard could not be restrained upon this eve 
 of the Coronation from giving three cheers for the 
 Queen, but presently the Captain begged leave of his 
 cousin to grant audience to a new trooper. The 
 quiet hall was almost empty now, and a young lad, 
 shaking with fright, sank on one knee to kiss a small 
 gloved hand. 
 
 " Are you very much frightened ? " 
 
 The sweet voice came down to him out of a mist. 
 
 " Very," sighed Browne, scarcely conscious that 
 he spoke, for now he was looking up and saw the 
 glorious beauty of the Queen. 
 
 Something hummed in his ears, and yet he could 
 hear his own voice like the voice of somebody else. 
 
 " I love you. I love you." 
 
 " You mustn't," said our Lady gravely, " it's 
 very WTong indeed. The Queen may have every- 
 thing — everything on earth, save that. There's 
 
OUR LADY THE QUEEN 37 
 
 nothing worth while in all the world save love, and 
 the Queen must have no love. Don't you pity 
 me ? " 
 
 The lad saw a little quiver in our Lady's face, 
 half grief, half laughter ; then like a dumb animal 
 which dare not even speak, he kissed her hand again. 
 
 That night, far away from the illuminations, the 
 clash of music, and the roaring crowds, long silent 
 streets towards Windsor awoke from their sleep with 
 thunder of hoofs, the clank of steel, the music of 
 armour. Queen IMargaret was out for a scamper 
 with her Guard. 
 
IV 
 
 THE CORONATION 
 
 What was that old London like, the London of 1980, 
 of twenty years ago, before ever the shadow of the 
 storm darkened her suburbs ? The town which 
 awakened on the day of our Lady's Coronation 
 was certainly a magnificent capital. Although not 
 nearly so big as New York, its population numbered 
 ten millions, its streets and gardens covering the 
 valley of the Thames from Windsor to Gravesend. 
 Railway travel had so increased in speed and 
 comfort, that men living fifty miles from the city 
 could reach their offices in half an hour. Aerial 
 pleasure-ships enabled even the poorest to get out 
 of town for fresh air ; and there were now fields 
 within easy reach for the games and exercises which 
 our people have always loved. Very old folk could 
 remember the curse of the coal smoke, but in 1980 
 the air of London was as clear as that of the country. 
 The dirt from horse traffic had ceased to mar the 
 streets, and the terrible, monotonous slums of the 
 nineteenth century were replaced by districts of 
 tenement buildings surrounded with public gardens. 
 London had become what Paris used to be, the 
 capital of civilization, the centre of science, art 
 and letters, the metropolis of pleasure. Many 
 
 3S 
 
THE CORONATION 39 
 
 millionaires from America and the Dominions had 
 built their palaces in the West End, which had 
 become a region of especial wealth and splendour, 
 having its nucleus in the Imperial Court. 
 
 The day of the Coronation was heralded by 
 pageants and festivals, the reception of Princes, 
 the gathering of countless visitors. Troops were 
 assembled from every part of the Empire, the Fleet 
 was mobilized and soared like a glittering cloud 
 above the Thames, the streets were being decorated, 
 and buildings torn down to make room for spectators. 
 All these things kept the public amused, and still no 
 cloud had arisen. 
 
 On the 2nd of June the last edition of ojne evening 
 paper announced that Mr. Brand had been waylaid 
 by supposed tramps, robbed, and seriously injured. 
 The morning papers of June the 3rd confirmed this 
 news, stating that Mr. Brand had been robbed and 
 nearly murdered in the night of the 30th of May, 
 and the facts withheld until now. Chicago reported 
 immense purchases of wheat, buyers not identified. 
 Odessa and Melbourne both sent advice of a sudden 
 and sharp rise in bread-stuffs, and meat, caused by 
 unknown buyers. There was a sudden chartering 
 of deep sea cargo ships by hundreds at home and 
 abroad. Feverish activity was reported from the 
 Chancellor's office, and Ulster had scarcely left his 
 desk for the last thirty hours. An attach^ at the 
 Russian Embassy being interviewed, said every- 
 thing was all right. These were the first faint 
 zephyrs and little wandering breaths that ruffled 
 the stillness of a world-wide calm. 
 
 The morning of the Coronation was sultry, and 
 
40 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 even before the fiery heat of the day there was no 
 little suffering among the crowds gathered to witness 
 the procession. 
 
 At sunrise the corps of gentlemen-at-arms, the 
 Queen's Blackguards, were drawn up in front of 
 the palace. Regiment after regiment of Imperial 
 troops were passing into the Mall to take up their 
 positions, the air was full of music from their bands, 
 as far as the eye could see the parks and avenues 
 were full of marching troops, the glow of scarlet, 
 the fluttering of colours. Absorbed in the spectacle, 
 Lord Sydney lounged at ease upon his charger, when 
 a voice addressed him by name, and a letter was 
 thrust into his hand. He thanked the bearer, then 
 opened the note which had come from Lyonesse. 
 
 " Read and destroy. I have been waylaid, and 
 pretty nearly killed, but hope to be out of bed 
 to-morrow. The enemy has the papers. At all 
 hazards get them back. If you fail I must strike." 
 This in Brand's writing. 
 
 Scarcely had Sydney time to destroy the message 
 before the parade was called to attention, and pre- 
 sently he found himself swinging with his regiment 
 into position. Deep in his heart he cursed Brand's 
 carelessness. Was Ulster such a fool as to let the 
 Russian papers be stolen again ? "If you fail I 
 must strike ! " 
 
 Alone among the thousands in the royal pageant, 
 alone among the millions who kept that festival, the 
 trooper foresaw and feared. 
 
 Well Sydney knew the antagonists at war, the 
 Chancellor, his own father, and Brand, his life-long 
 friend, the one commanding the forces of the British 
 
THE CORONATION 41 
 
 Empire, the other controlling powers awful beyond 
 conception. Around him were his comrades in 
 their shining harness, and ever he heard the roar of 
 voices greeting Margaret, the Queen. Yet to him 
 the pageant was a dream passing through white 
 spaces of silence. And it was borne in upon him 
 then that he would never see the light beyond the 
 darkness, the peace after the storm. For him the 
 way led on into the Shadow of Death, where a man 
 must ride alone. 
 
 So swept the pageant onwards to the city, and 
 thence through crowded streets to Westminster. 
 In the van went detachments of the Imperial Army. 
 There followed the dignitaries of the Common- 
 wealths of Canada, Australasia, Africa, of the De- 
 pendencies and the Indies, attended by contingents 
 from the several races of mankind, bodies of men- 
 at-arms from all the forces of the Empire. Then 
 came the estates of the British Realm, the Commons, 
 the Lords, the Imperial Council, the Princes of 
 India, the envoys, ambassadors, and foreign princes, 
 the Household, and last the Queen's Blackguards 
 in their dazzling silver, escorting the lumbering 
 golden carriage of Margaret the Fair. 
 
 And always above them floated the pageant of 
 the Aerial Fleet soaring against the blue, and 
 sheltering the streets from the fierce heat of the 
 sun. 
 
 As in many a former time of national rejoicing, 
 once more the immemorial Abbey sent up the 
 Te Deum and the solemn service of the Eucharist. 
 Queen Margaret sat upon the stone of destiny, the 
 cro^vn of white gems was placed upon her head, 
 
42 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 while the trumpets pealed, and the nobles of the 
 old isles put on their coronets and rendered 
 homage. 
 
 Once more, as in ancient times, the banquet 
 was spread in the great hall of St. Stephen's Palace 
 at Westminster. 
 
 Old white statues of the Kings looked down upon 
 this new Queen, crowned by the Grace of God, 
 Defender of the Faith, Defender of our time- 
 honoured, well-tried Faith. That faith of disciplined 
 freedom had made a little nation very great, and 
 had given an awful and far-reaching power. 
 
 At the high table the great officers of the kingdom 
 waited upon our Lady with every solemnity that has 
 come down through the centuries of a nation's youth. 
 The heat was stifling, the fierce light of the morn- 
 ing was quenched in a white haze, and the sun was 
 hidden now, for the air was darkening. Many of 
 those who sat at the banquet tables have since 
 spoken of the prevailing depression and weariness. 
 Once somebody laughed, and the sound seemed out of 
 place, for people were seized with vague misgivings, 
 a sense of restless uneasiness verging on fear. The 
 hall became dim as though it were evening, darkness 
 swept down out of the spaces of the timbered roof. 
 The air was full of electric tension, and the silence 
 that fell upon the assemblage was broken at times by 
 the roll of distant thunder ; while the semi-darkness 
 A\as now and then illumined by the flicker of far-off 
 lightning. One of the Queen's ladies fainted, 
 causing some stir for a moment, while the darkness 
 deepened until it seemed to be night. A moaning 
 wind caught the doors and swept them wide apart. 
 
THE CORONATION 43 
 
 Then came a peal of trumpets while three horsemen 
 clattered in from the palace yard. Here came the 
 hereditary Champion of England, mounted and clad 
 in plate armour, attended by the Earl Marshal and 
 the Lord Great Chamberlain on horseback, and by 
 a body of trumpeters and heralds. 
 
 Then a herald, lifting up his voice, made proclama- 
 tion that the Champion of England challenged in 
 single combat to the death, any who should dare 
 dispute the right of Margaret to the British Throne. 
 When the proclamation had been made, the 
 Champion rode forward, and taking the steel 
 gauntlet from his hand, he flung it ringing upon 
 the pavement. 
 
 Even as he gave the challenge, the lightning 
 blazed behind him, the roof was shaken with a crash 
 of thunder, men sprang to their feet, and women 
 screamed aloud, while with roar of wind, hissing 
 rain, shaft upon shaft of lightning, and peal after 
 peal of thunder, the dreadful elements took up the 
 challenge. Amazed and appalled, the Queen and 
 her nobles sat for the most part silent, but some 
 few fled aimlessly from the tables, rushing here and 
 there in panic. 
 
 Nobody noticed in that confusion that a trooper, 
 in the armour of the Guard, picked up the Champion's 
 gauntlet from the floor. By that act he challenged 
 Margaret's accession, and accepted the gage of battle 
 with the Queen's Champion. 
 
 Dymoke bent forward in the saddle, trying to 
 see through the gloom. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he cried. '' Damn you ! Let 
 see me your face.'' 
 
44 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 A blaze of lightning revealed to him the face of 
 Prince AH. 
 
 " You fool," he cried ; " do you challenge our 
 Lady's right ? " 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense," said Ali, laughing. 
 " Here," he presented the gauntlet with a gesture 
 of mock humility, " you can't leave this lying 
 about." 
 
 The Champion seized the gauntlet, and with it 
 struck Prince Ali across the face. 
 
 The Indian drew back, his eyes gleaming out of 
 the darkness. 
 
 " Afterwards," he said. " Afterwards. You 
 have challenged Heaven, and your God has an- 
 swered you." 
 
THE GATHERING STORM 
 
 It was evening, and the sweet cool dusk brought 
 many tired Londoners to the Mall. From the 
 Victoria Monument to Trafalgar Square extended 
 that old avenue where garlands of lamps festooned 
 the trees, fountains sprayed liquid air to cool the 
 gardens, cafes set out their tables and seats upon 
 the gravel, and a military band provided music. 
 At one of the tables a journeyman carpenter was 
 at ease with ale and a pipe ; and looking about for 
 a seat came a grey old soldier, an Anglo-Indian 
 colonel, lately retired. When the artisan made room 
 and found a chair, the old man gruffly thanked him 
 and sat down. 
 
 " A warm night, sir ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! ' ' grunted the Colonel. " Where's that con- 
 founded waiter ? Warm ! Would you like a frost ? " 
 
 " Big crowd to-night, sir," ventured the carpenter. 
 
 " Disgusting babel. Ur-r-r ! In my time one 
 came here for peace and quiet. I hate mixed 
 crowds." 
 
 " The modern democracy," observed the car- 
 penter, his eyes twinkling amusement. " In the 
 old days my father could not have sat here chattering 
 sociably with your father, sir." 
 
 45 
 
46 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " I didn't come here to jabber, curse you, sir ! " 
 said the Colonel. " Surely," he leaned forward, 
 *' I ought to know that old frump with the cloak " 
 
 " Lord Fortescue ? " 
 
 " The Chief of Staff ! Of course. Dear me, how 
 old he's grown, Polly Fortescue of course ! Where's 
 that damned waiter ? " 
 
 The carpenter touched the Colonel's sleeve. 
 " Look, sir, those two men in silver." 
 
 " Bah ! " the old soldier snorted with rage. 
 " Queen's Blackguards. Bah ! In fancy dress, the 
 bounders ! This so-called Chivalrie Renaissance 
 among the idle rich is a piece of damned disgusting 
 snobbery. Ugh ! " 
 
 " The young 'un is the Duke of Lancaster. The 
 tall lean chap is the Chancellor's son, the Marquess 
 of Sydney — rare good at the wicket, sir." 
 
 The Colonel scowled sideways at the passing 
 Guardsmen. 
 
 " I hate this foppery — ought to be whipped." 
 
 " We may need them," the carpenter turned 
 grave, " may need them badly, sir — may need 
 every man we have in the Empire. Have you 
 heard, sir, that Brand is provisioning the country 
 for a siege ? " 
 
 " Pooh ! Old invasion scare again — young man, 
 I was brought up to that." 
 
 " I'm afraid, sir, it's something worse than 
 invasion. There's a rumour that unless the Govern- 
 ment drops this Russian Alliance, Brand's going to 
 read them a lesson." 
 
 " Don't talk to me about Brand, a beastly 
 common tradesman— ought to be locked up. Bah ! " 
 
THE GATHERING STORM 47 
 
 " Well, I'm a working man," said the carpenter, 
 " and we're not much in love with this Capitalist 
 Government. Hello, here's the Marquess of Sydney 
 back again with — look," he pointed with his pipe 
 stem. " That's John Brand ! " 
 
 " Brand, you say ? " The Colonel half choked 
 with excitement, " point him out quick. Is that 
 really Brand himself ? Why, damme ! " 
 
 Brand and Lord Sydney were talking in low tones, 
 earnestly, as they passed through the lanes of trees. 
 
 " My dear Brand, it's too horrible," said the 
 Guardsman, " you never could hold the reins 
 through such a crisis. There must be some other 
 way." 
 
 " There is only one other way. Get back the 
 Russian papers. I must have those papers, I must 
 publish them word for word, then leave the people 
 to judge." 
 
 " I have tried. Can't you believe that I've tried 
 to get them. Brand ? " 
 
 " I couldn't blame you, Sydney, if you refused 
 your help. I know what it means to you." 
 
 " To rob my father, to betray him to his enemies, 
 to hand him over to justice, then to be Duke of 
 Ulster afterwards in his place, and bribe thieves and 
 prostitutes to shake hands with me — the leper. I 
 know what it means, and I have not turned back." 
 
 " Give it up, Sydney, leave it to me, and let me 
 get the papers." 
 
 " First spy, then coward, I must sneak, and then 
 run away ? ' ' 
 
 Yet that old dread seized him which has shaken 
 the nerve of many a gallant Englishman, before and 
 
48 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 since, who has heard his country call on him to serve. 
 What is this England ? She gives her children to 
 the wolves, to the sharks, the desert, the ice field, 
 plague, famine, war ; waters the continents with our 
 blood, paves the sea with our bones, and goes on her 
 way forgetting, asking for more. And if she is not 
 content that we die the lesser death, but requires 
 the son to give his father's body, shall she find men 
 cowards, afraid to sacrifice ? 
 
 " No, I have not turned back ! " cried my Lord. 
 " How could I turn back ! " 
 
 Brand wrung Lord Sydney's hand but made no 
 answer. 
 
 Then my Lord told him what had been done 
 already, and how the Duke of Ulster defended the 
 Chancellory from attack with a force of detectives, 
 a cordon of police, and in his private room reliefs 
 of Queen's messengers on guard by night and 
 day. 
 
 " I think," Sydney continued, " I can force the 
 outer cordon. On the eve of the Coronation, yes, 
 Monday — that's five days ago, a recruit took the 
 oaths, a fellow called Browne, a cowboy from the 
 Arctic. He has let me make friends with him, a 
 good horseman, Brand, and we'll be through the 
 lines before the police can fire. That's all arranged, 
 but the trouble begins when we reach Ulster's room. 
 The Queen's messenger for the first night watch is a 
 newly appointed man, a retired x\nglo-Indian officer. 
 Colonel Anderson, V.C, otherwise known as Red 
 Pepper. I saw him just now as we passed, at one 
 of the tables. A friend of mine was talking with 
 him, a carpenter." 
 
THE GATHERING STORM 49 
 
 " I noticed him," said Brand. " The car- 
 penter was pointing me out. Your friend, you 
 say ? " 
 
 " When I was a youngster he built me a model 
 ship ; we've been chums ever since." 
 
 " Isn't such a friendship awkward for him ? " 
 " I asked him once," answered my Lord, " and 
 he went over to the open doors of the workshop. 
 He was bearing a plank, and stood there in the 
 sunlight pointing at the shadow which he cast upon 
 the floor at my feet. It was the shadow of the Cross. 
 ' Don't you envy me that ? ' says he. Then I 
 looked up at his face and seemed to see the Carpenter 
 of Bethlehem, offering a crown in exchange for only 
 a coronet." 
 
 " You have sent your carpenter to Colonel 
 Anderson ? " 
 
 " Yes," said my Lord, cheerfully. " My car- 
 penter has a rare gift of making friends. I told him 
 everything, and he said that surely Colonel Anderson 
 would serve the Queen if he knew." 
 
 " Colonel Anderson," answered Brand, " will 
 obey the Queen's orders. Go to her and get a written 
 command." 
 
 ***** 
 The Duke of Ulster was writing a letter to his 
 son. " I am lonely," he wrote, and scratched out 
 the words ; "I am all alone," he wrote, and drew 
 his pen hastily through the line. " I am left all 
 alone. For thirty years I have laboured to leave to 
 my son a great heritage of honour, to pass down to 
 
 my heirs such " He tore the paper to shreds 
 
 and began again. How could written words carry 
 
 E 
 
50 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 liis pain to another, or any confession, or any cry 
 for help clear that estrangement ! 
 
 For many days this poor traitor had been silent 
 in the flames of his punishment, but now the fire 
 burning within him kindled, and his mortally 
 wounded spirit screamed for mercy. Only the 
 night heard, only the pitiless walls rang back in 
 answer. No human ear would ever hear that cry, 
 no human heart would ever understand. In this 
 night his soul died. Never again did he hope either 
 for the help of men or the pity of God. Never again 
 was he known to show mercy to either men or women, 
 but fought with ruthless power in blind pain. 
 
 One whose name may not be given found frag- 
 ments of scattered paper with the words upon them 
 which the doomed man tried in vain to write to his 
 son. The fragments have been by a strange chance 
 preserved, surely the most pitiful scripture in all our 
 national archives. Perhaps at the Day of Judgment 
 this cry of a dying soul may yet be weighed and lie 
 as heavy in the scales as Ulster's sin. So one prays 
 who has himself need of merc3^ 
 
 For a long time the Duke lay back motionless in 
 his chair, his face bowed down upon his breast. 
 Then an electric instrument stirred on the table 
 beside him, clicking and throbbing out a printed 
 message. 
 
 " My Lord Duke, 
 
 " I have the honour to warn you that the 
 safe in your lordship's office will be broached to-night 
 from the rear. We hope to take the assailant red- 
 handed, but any papers of vital importance should 
 
THE GATHERING STORM 51 
 
 be secured from a possible injury by explosives. I 
 have the honour to be, 
 
 " Your Grace's Obedient Servant, 
 
 " Patrick O'Rooke, Sergeant." 
 
 The Duke hurriedly crossed to the safe, set the 
 cypher, opened the doors, and secured the package 
 of the Russian papers. After some hesitation he 
 opened a cupboard between the windows, and hid 
 the package in the pocket of an old office coat. A 
 spy concealed within the panelling of the walls saw 
 everything, the matured result of a plot to get the 
 papers taken out of the safe and placed within reach 
 of capture. 
 
 The Duke came out from the closet, turned to 
 close the door, then with a violent start swung round 
 raising his arms as though to defend himself. The 
 Secretary for War had entered unannounced, was 
 crossing towards the desk, and him the Duke con- 
 fronted, his head thrown back, white fluttering hands 
 waving dismissal. 
 
 " Leave my room," he said haughtily, " request 
 my secretary to announce you, sir." 
 
 "Bosh— keep that for your flunkies, Ulster, 
 I've got no time for your trumpery etiquette. 
 Come to the House if you want to save your 
 Government." 
 
 The Duke sat down in his official chair, and 
 under lowering brows, glared at the Minister. 
 
 " Sir Myles," he said, " do you think you are 
 entirely safe insulting me ? " 
 
 " Safe ? Confound you, Ulster — do your worst. 
 We'll both be ruined by midnight anyway. Brand's 
 
52 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 people have attacked us in the Commons — they've 
 produced this damned Treaty of yours with Russia — 
 clause by clause, and the House is furious. We've 
 had to give them the lie that there's any such Treaty. 
 Come down and defend yourself, man, if you want 
 to stay in office." 
 
 " Sir Myles," answered the Chancellor, "go to 
 the Opposition with all your tribe, if you dare ! Go, 
 take your panic back to your seat in the House, and 
 when I follow, see that I find you there. Get out 
 of my room." 
 
 The Chancellor was alone in the silence, gnawing 
 his fingers, biting his nails to the quick. 
 
 He must go to the House of Lords, he must fight, 
 he must get the Commons pacified, the Russian 
 Treaty accepted by Parliament — that or war with 
 the Leagued Nations, that or the destruction of the 
 betrayed fleets, that or invasion, conquest, the fall 
 of the Empire, his own destruction, and never- 
 ending infamy. What could he do in the Parlia- 
 ment, what threats, sacrifices, appeals — to rally his 
 scattered forces, to stay their panic ? Yes ! In 
 one flash he saw his way cleared. He rose from his 
 place triumphant, his eyes alight with victory ! 
 The Queen's move gives checkmate to this King 
 Brand III. 
 
 A secretary crept in timidly, offering up words, 
 then with a gasp of fear recoiled before Ulster's 
 eyes. 
 
 " A letter ? Bring it here. Go." 
 
 The Duke saw the superscription, and a trembling 
 seized him, so that he sank back into his chair, for 
 the writing was in the hand of Brand, his adversary. 
 
THE GATHERING STORM 53 
 
 strong, hard, ominous. He wrenched the cover open, 
 bent, and read, his livid face and burning eyes set 
 on the script. 
 
 And in effect the ultimatum ran : " Resign, or 
 fight Lyonesse." 
 
 He looked up, his lips quivering, his face 
 convulsed. 
 
 " I must, I must," he muttered. To resign was 
 to face the Russian vengeance, to fight, destruction. 
 " I must, I must ! " he whispered, " I shall go to 
 the Queen." 
 
 Then throwing himself upon the desk, he buried 
 his face in his arms. 
 
VI 
 
 THE PENANCE CHAMBER 
 
 There was one door in the palace which the frivolous 
 passed on tiptoe, where the boldest paused before 
 they ventured to knock. Miss Temple lived there, 
 the Queen's governess, who was supposed to refresh 
 herself daily from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, 
 the Psalms of Imprecation, and the cheering pages 
 of Job. If ever the Queen's ladies romped in the 
 corridor, she would come forth denouncing the 
 iniquities of the age, and once when a profane 
 Guardsman blew cigarette smoke through the key- 
 hole. Miss Temple curdled his young blood with 
 lurid prophesy. 
 
 On Monday, the 9th of June, pretty Mrs. Osbourne 
 called. Her Jack had told her that his cousin, Miss 
 Temple, was " a gay old puss who would tell naughty 
 stories by the hour." 
 
 Miss Temple had lately published fulminations 
 against the wearing of boy dress by athletic women, 
 so at Jack's mischievous suggestion, Mrs. Osbourne 
 called in her riding costume to hear the naughty 
 stories. What transpired between the two ladies 
 is not exactly known, but there are rumours of a 
 locked door and sobs. Anyway when Lord Sydney 
 dropped in for tea he found Miss Temple complacent 
 
 54 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 55 
 
 and Mrs. Osbourne damp. Sydney, having urgent 
 business, was by no means gratified at finding the 
 old governess engaged. 
 
 " Now, pet," she said cheerfully, as she rose to 
 welcome the Guardsman, " this is the Marquess of 
 Sydney." 
 
 " Rattles, but doesn't bite," he responded. He 
 was on duty, and the armour was always a nuisance 
 indoors. Moreover, he could not find a seat, for 
 Miss Temple dated from the quaint times of the 
 old King when furniture was devised solely for 
 ornament. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Mrs. Osbourne," he said, 
 plumping abstractedly down on a doubtful stool. 
 " Miss Temple often lets me come for tea." 
 
 " Oh ! " quoth Mrs. Osbourne in a state of 
 collapse. " Oh, thank you ! " Sydney presented her 
 teacup, and sat down again with his own. Then he 
 turned to Miss Temple. 
 
 " How is our Lady ? " 
 
 Miss Temple sighed. " She must have done 
 something more dreadful than usual, for she wears 
 plain black, poor child, sits in her penance-room, 
 and watches the vulgar sparrows on the terrace. 
 Do you know, I waited a whole hour with her before 
 she even spoke, yes, and then she sighed. ' Dearie,' 
 she said — you know her funny way, — ' these sparrows 
 have fleas ' — she will be vulgar sometimes : * and 
 the Queen has worries, and the Chancellor has 
 his party, and the Party has constituents, and 
 the constituents have taxes, poor things. But the 
 worm ' — now why should she think of a worm ! — 
 * the worm has his skin scratched all the time so he 
 
56 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 never feels the least irritation. I wish I was a 
 worm ! ' There ! Did you ever hear such notions ? 
 I never taught her about worms, I always tried to 
 lead her up to think of higher things. But then, 
 just when I was going to correct her, do you know a 
 great big tear rolled down her cheek. So I told her 
 to comfort herself with the thirty-ninth Psalm. I 
 wonder now what she has done ? " 
 
 " Pawned the crown jewels ? " suggested the 
 Guardsman. 
 
 Miss Temple rustled with disapproval. " I 
 think it's a message from the Chancellor. I'm 
 afraid j'our father must have demanded another 
 audience." Then the old lady glanced towards 
 Mrs. Osbourne, who might gossip. " Of course," 
 she added stiffly, " it must be about the duel." 
 
 Mrs. Osbourne sitting bolt upright on the sofa, 
 knees together, toes in, squeaked like a mouse. 
 
 " What— a duel, oh ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Temple. " Prince Ali is to 
 fight the Queen's Champion." Then she bit her 
 lips in great vexation, for to a mere civilian she had 
 betrayed a secret of the Guard. 
 
 " That's all right," Lord Sydney laughed heartily. 
 " We had the duel this morning. I was Dymoke's 
 second, and young Browne for Trooper Ali. We 
 seconds arranged the detail — swords at ten faces." 
 
 " But," said Miss Temple, primly, " swords 
 won't reach ! " 
 
 " No," Sydney shook his head, " they won't. 
 You should have heard our warriors cursing ! I'm 
 afraid my revered father has graver business than 
 that to worry our Lady." 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 57 
 
 " Oh," chirped Mrs. Osbourne, " and my Jack 
 said there was a dreadful rumour on the Stock 
 Exchange. They say that monster at Lyonesse is 
 behaving disgracefully. Yes, he has made horrible 
 threats about the thingum-jig, the what d'ye 
 call 'em." 
 
 " The price of gold ? " Sydney was exchanging 
 glances with Miss Temple. 
 
 " That's it," said the governess ; " that must be 
 it. You know how strongly I disapprove of profane 
 books. This morning my poor child was fretting 
 herself to death about Mayne's ' Gold and Lyonesse.' 
 I took it away from her. What a shameful thing 
 that Margaret should be crying over a book like 
 that ! Why should a godless man like Mr. Brand 
 be clothed with such frightful power ? Let him put 
 his month in the dust. Now why are such things 
 permitted ? " 
 
 " Miss Temple," said Sydney, " can you remem- 
 ber back to the Black Decade ? But no, you must 
 have been a mere child then." 
 
 " A child ? My dear James, I was a grown 
 woman. We were so poor that we had to give up 
 crinolines, and come down to two-yard skimps. The 
 country was desolate, the rampart and the wall 
 languished together, and coals were so high that we 
 had to use briquettes. Trade was going all to 
 pieces, and to keep up the Fleet, they actually taxed 
 excursion tickets. My father was ruined by the 
 crash in Centralias, and I went out as a governess." 
 
 " But Lyonesse," said Sydney, " has made every- 
 thing all right. We were never so prosperous." 
 
 " My dear James, I am still a governess. 
 
5S THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Lyonesse ? It was a moor in those days, and the 
 foxes walked upon it. Yes, there was a very frousty 
 old man who smelt of tobacco, in a shed where 
 Lyonesse stands now, and a rumour got about that 
 he could take common water and make it into gold. 
 That was John Brand I. Yes, the workshop was 
 very smelly, I remember ; but think of it, pet, he 
 was making solid blocks of gold as if they were 
 only bricks." 
 
 The old lady was very busy at her lace cushion. 
 '' Yes, my father took me to see him just when I 
 got over the mumps — most unbecoming, dear, with 
 red flannel wraps. His son, John Brand II., was 
 a fat man with a wart on his nose, and oh, such 
 manners ! He was the one w^ho brought hundreds 
 of tons of gold to the Mint, so that the price went 
 down, and all the mines had to close, and lots of 
 people were ruined. Russia went bankrupt ; that 
 was in 1940, and all the really nice people there 
 had their heads chopped off in the Red Terror. 
 That was an unspeakable mercy, because, you see, 
 they had to leave off invading India. 
 
 " People used to say that the gold making was 
 all vanity and lying divination, but the Government 
 asked Mr. Brand if he would mind being taxed. 
 He said he mustn't be taxed too much or he would 
 go over to the United States, but he didn't mind 
 paying for the fleets, and armies, and things." 
 
 " Do you know what taxes Lyonesse pays now ? " 
 said my Lord. " Brand pays over a hundred million 
 pounds a year in Imperial taxes alone. Besides that 
 he has to give all Governments a big profit on their 
 coinages — and that amounts to millions a year saved 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 59 
 
 to the tax-payers of the world. Goodness only 
 knows how rich the man is. I suppose " 
 
 Miss Temple, who hated interruptions, turned 
 briskly to Mrs. Osbourne. 
 
 " Now, my dear pet," she said, " I hope James 
 doesn't bore you ? " 
 
 " Oh no, dear Miss Temple, I'm quite used to it. 
 My Jack, you know, is on the Stock Exchange." 
 
 " Now where was I ? " asked Miss Temple. 
 " Oh yes, the city of Lyonesse, Well, that was 
 named after the place where King Arthur came from 
 when he was washed up. Merlin the sorcerer, you 
 know, was fishing, and caught Arthur ; and after- 
 wards when Arthur didn't die, you know, but went 
 away to be healed of his grievous wound by the 
 Three Queens in one barge — well, I forget exactly 
 how it was, but anyway King Arthur went to 
 Lyonesse, wherever that is. And some day he's to 
 come back and save England. Lyonesse, the real 
 place I mean, has grown, until now it has any amount 
 of people (and they do say that the co-operative 
 stores are ridiculously cheap and most fashionable), 
 and it's been the saving of England. Now John 
 Brand IL is buried there — cremated, I mean — and 
 John Brand II L reigns in his stead. Is it true, 
 Sydney, that he's a woman hater ? " 
 
 " Jack says he's a beast," was Mrs. Osbourne's 
 comment ; " but then Jack has lost a lot himself on 
 Lyonesse Branch Industrials." 
 
 " Lay not up for yourselves treasures on the earth," 
 said the governess, fiercely. " I wonder if it is 
 fmance which has worried my poor Margaret." 
 
 " No, Miss Temple," Sydney launched his 
 
6o THE CHARIOT OF THE SUX 
 
 bombshell. "My father is going to force our Lady 
 to marry the Grand Swine Alexander." 
 
 " That horrible story again ! Oh, James ! " 
 
 " Yes, again. Miss Temple. Can you wonder now 
 why she wears black, and sits in her penance-room 
 envying the sparrows ? " 
 
 " I must go to her," cried Miss Temple, rising, 
 in great disorder. " My child ! My poor child ! 
 Let me pass. Lord Sydney." 
 
 But the Guardsman barred her passage. " Her 
 Majesty," he said, " is engaged." 
 
 Sydney turned upon the little lady in boy dress. 
 
 " Mrs. Osbourne." 
 
 " Oh, you made me jump ! " 
 
 " These matters, Mrs. Osbourne, are secret." 
 
 She rose, drawing on her gauntlets. " Of 
 course," she twittered, " I would never dream — 
 wild horses couldn't " 
 
 " They wouldn't be so rude, dear lady. But is 
 it true that there are rumours on 'Change ? " 
 
 " Oh, dreadful rumours, my Jack " she was 
 
 arranging her hair — " says that the gold liend is going 
 to sell his gold at a penny an ounce. He says that 
 if that's true a sovereign won't buy a loaf of bread 
 next week, but then, dear Miss Temple, that would 
 never matter to my Jack. He always has rusks, 
 you know. Well, good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye, pet," said Miss Temple, kissing her 
 on the forehead. 
 
 " Good-bye, Mrs. Osbourne." 
 
 " Good-bye, Lord Sydney — Ta-ta ! " 
 
 " Thank goodness she's gone," said Sydney, 
 closing the door behind her. 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 6i 
 
 " Oh, but Sydney/' Miss Temple quivered, 
 " she'll tell it all over the town." 
 
 " Better than a newspaper," said the trooper. 
 
 " Sit down, James," Miss Temple resumed her 
 place, " you tell me that Margaret is being forced 
 into marriage with that odious Russian prince. 
 But what has this to do with Lyonesse ? " 
 
 " Dear old Mummie," answered the Guardsman. 
 " Don't you see ? Lyonesse doesn't care who 
 marries the Queen. But Lyonesse is a business 
 concern, and has no use for a Russian Alliance," 
 
 " And quite right, too." 
 
 " So Brand says to Ulster, ' Break with Russia, 
 or I lower the price of gold.' " 
 
 " His father, John Brand IL, did that, and 
 Russia went bankrupt ! " 
 
 " Russia will go bankrupt again, France bank- 
 rupt, Germany bankrupt. Who'll dare to disobey 
 the man who can bankrupt civilization ? " 
 
 Miss Temple thought that dear Sydney was 
 getting very pompous and uplifted. 
 
 " Dear me," she tossed her head. " Your 
 Mr. Brand will be getting himself arrested. A sort 
 of commercial person — who is he to give orders to 
 the Chancellor of the Empire ? " 
 
 " This commercial person," Sydney laughed, 
 " happens to live in a respectable democracy where 
 a shopkeeper can sell anything he pleases at his 
 own price." 
 
 " But, James, if the old Russian Empire was 
 swept away by his father " 
 
 " The world may be swept away by the son, 
 Mummie. At all costs the Queen has got to be 
 
62 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 saved, England has got to be saved. There's still 
 time to prevent this horror. I can't explain — I 
 daren't — but you've got to help, you've got to go 
 to our Lady. Tell her that if she will only give 
 me a private audience I may be able to put an end 
 to the Russian marriage." 
 
 " But, James, she daren't give a private audience 
 to you. We should be found out, and there'd be 
 such a scandal." 
 
 " You must be present, Mummie, but even at 
 the risk of scandal go to the Queen." 
 
 ***** 
 
 In her penance-room our Lady was giving 
 audience to the Chancellor, and while he, in his 
 clear, exact speech, set forth the perils of the State, 
 I\Iargaret was thinking about something else. She 
 sat before the window upon a low, square stool, 
 her elbows on her knees, her chin upon her hands, 
 just crushed into a lovely dimple by the mouth. 
 Her lips were slightly parted, her dreamy, big, blue 
 eyes set on the gardens. 
 
 The Empire, said Ulster, had prospered in the 
 trade of Lyonesse, in great revenues furnished by 
 the ungrudging Brands ; and the people were proud 
 of the giant merchant firm, strong in its long-tried 
 honour and good faith. 
 
 But Margaret looked upon the wind-swept elms, 
 the big white cloud-fleets sailing in high heaven, and 
 silver flaws of wind coursed down the lawns. The 
 Chancellor's words throbbed on her ears unheard. 
 
 The standard of all value, gold, was secured, he 
 said, in the keeping of John Brand. What else, 
 save gold, could measure the workman's wage, the 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 63 
 
 cost of shelter, and the price of food ? Strike down 
 that standard, and the bread-winner could have no 
 wages, could pay no rent, could buy no bread. 
 
 But Margaret saw the lilac and the may, the 
 trees weighed down with bloom, swayed to the 
 rushing wind, and little white daisies laughed along 
 the lawns. And still the Chancellor's voice drummed 
 without meaning. 
 
 Stab a man to the heart, was the statesman's 
 thesis, and his blood will drain away leaving death 
 behind. But gold was the life-blood of nations, 
 gold money the driving force of civilization. Brand's 
 monopoly was the life-blood of human society, in his 
 good faith the public welfare lay, and all mankind 
 depended on his honour. 
 
 Now Margaret heard the dull pain quaver in 
 Lord Ulster's voice, as he urged the extremity of 
 the general peril that Brand had broken faith. 
 
 " I wish I could understand," said the poor girl 
 dreamily. " I've tried so hard to understand." 
 
 When the flowers unfold their petals to the sun ; 
 when wild birds preen their first fine bridal plumes ; 
 when a maid first trembles to a lad's shy kiss, spring 
 stirs young blood, and the rose-flush of heaven 
 glows in a girl's pure face, as the dawn of childhood 
 flames to the day of life — then God ordains the 
 sacred truce of Love. Child-life is shadowed with 
 fears of the Unknown, the days of a woman are dark 
 with the sorrows of the world, but between the time 
 of fear and the coming time of sorrow is set the 
 holy Sabbath, and truce of Love. Bitter the lot of 
 a woman who looking back from the sunset time of 
 life, and that long twilight waning down to night. 
 
64 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 remembers no daybreak, no flush of sunrise, no 
 Sabbath of Love which strengthened her for pain. 
 
 Queen Guinevere went maying in the spring, 
 Elizabeth rode a-hawking, Marie Antoinette played 
 milkmaid ; and Queens, who bear the heavy burden 
 of state, have need of love and laughter to cheer the 
 way, before the crown of diamonds is changed to a 
 crovMi of thorns. Hungry for freedom, for love, the 
 delight of life. Queen Margaret turned with a little 
 bitter smile, turned her back to the gardens, and 
 tried to think of finance, 
 
 " Don't be cross with me, dear Lord Ulster, I 
 can't understand yet. Tell me again what Mr. 
 Brand has threatened." 
 
 " To sell gold at a penny an ounce." 
 
 " But the coin, the sovereign, is something more 
 than gold. It's stamped with a dreadfully hideous 
 portrait of me, and my name, for a proof that the 
 head wasn't meant for a crocodile." 
 
 " Yes, madame, it pledges the national honour 
 that melted down or ground to powder its precious 
 gold remains of untarnished worth. Failing that, 
 the coin, even with the Queen's image, is spurious." 
 
 " A promise to pay," said Margaret, " and the 
 promise keeps if I'm beggared." 
 
 " To pay, madame, yes, in food or fuel, or clothes, 
 but the question is Jiow much ? For in the great sea 
 of commerce, the prices rise and fall ; and like a 
 post to measure the flood and the ebb, so is the 
 changeless standard of gold recording the tides of 
 trade. Without that index, no man could sell his 
 labour, or buy food. If Brand strikes down the 
 standard, the world will starve." 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 65 
 
 " I understand," said Margaret. " Have you 
 told me all ? " 
 
 " About this peril, madame ? No, not half. 
 The wreck of the world can hardly be put in a 
 phrase." 
 
 " I mean about Mr. Brand's letter. He threatened 
 these terrors unless — unless what ? " 
 
 " Unless the Queen suspends all relations with 
 Russia. That means war with Europe." 
 
 The Queen laughed nervously. " Is Mr. Brand 
 so wicked as all that ? Shall we have him be- 
 headed ? I've got a headache, and I'd like to have 
 somebody beheaded." 
 
 " I wish it were possible," the Chancellor sighed. 
 " Statecraft was so simple, so direct, so easy once. 
 But now " 
 
 " Would Mr. Brand be as fierce if he had to make 
 his threat openly in public ? " 
 
 " Excellent ! " said Ulster. " I could call him 
 to appear at the Bar of the Commons. But 
 that is a last resort — a forlorn hope. There's 
 a gentler way than that. Do you remember, 
 madame, the old Greek myth of Una, who led a 
 lion captive to her beauty. I cannot fight this 
 lion " 
 
 Margaret blushed. 
 
 " Turn this gentleman from his purpose. I come 
 to the Queen to confess myself defeated, beaten, 
 humbled, a toothless old man in a terrible mess. 
 Ah, madame, you can hardly know as yet the 
 mysterious power of a woman's beauty." 
 
 " It sounds such utter nonsense," said Margaret, 
 " and besides he's a monster, he hates women ! 
 
 F 
 
66 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Subdue this lion ? " she added, thoughtfully. " Per- 
 haps Lyonesse will do the like with mc." 
 
 * 4: 4: if: si: 
 
 The Chancellor was gone, and Margaret sat alone, 
 watching the passing shadows of white clouds, when 
 Miss Temple came in upon her Lady's solitude, 
 trembling lest the Queen should scold her, and 
 hovered over her with a kiss and some whispers. 
 
 " Why, of course," said Margaret, gaily. " Let 
 him come." 
 
 The governess returned leading Lord Sydney by 
 the hand, while at the sound of the man's armour, 
 Margaret felt a queer small thrill in her veins. 
 
 " Sydney, come here." 
 
 He bent upon his knee, kissed her white hand, 
 but dared not lift his eyes to see her face. 
 
 " Dear me," said Margaret, " please be human, 
 Jimmy. I've been sitting here all day trying to be 
 good, whereas I'm just crazy for a game of cricket. 
 Do you remember when you bowled, and raised a 
 lump on my shin as big as an egg ? " 
 
 He looked up into her face, and though she 
 heard a little quivering sigh his eyes seemed to be 
 laughing. 
 
 " You were Peggy, and I was Jimmy then, when 
 you were ten and I nineteen." 
 
 " And me up in a tree stealing the cherries, and 
 that awful farmer trying to shake me down ! Then 
 you came to the rescue." 
 
 " Can you trust me, Peggy ? " 
 
 " Why, of course ! What's the matter ? " 
 
 He took a written paper and a pen which he laid 
 on Margaret's knee. 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 67 
 
 " Will the Queen trust Jimmy even to signing 
 that ? " 
 
 " Colonel Anderson," she read, " Queen's Mes- 
 senger, is to obey the bearer, Trooper the Marquess 
 of Sydney." 
 
 "Is it something very wicked ? " she asked. 
 
 " AwfuUy." 
 
 So the Queen wrote in great haste : " ]\Iar- 
 garet. R.I." 
 
 The Secret of Lyonesse 
 
 An Interlude 
 
 This is the secret of Lyonesse, that the Divine 
 •methods of creation had been applied to the needs 
 of man. 
 
 Come just for a moment upon this path of 
 thought, leaving the old earth, to tread a course 
 of stars, to traverse the Milky Way. Come to the 
 very end, to the edge of the Formless Void. And 
 now look down into Space, into the outer darkness, 
 into the Ether. 
 
 The Almighty has put a stress upon it, and 
 the Ether lives. Stressed in one way and we know 
 it at once for Matter, a fine dust. Its desire for 
 rest we know as Force, driving that dust in a whirl- 
 wind roaring through the dark. The dust is heated 
 by its movement, and flames into light whirling 
 through space. That whirling cloud of light is a 
 new-born sun. So suns are born. The sun cloud 
 throws off a lesser cloud, which gathers into a 
 separate sphere. The little globe whirhng about its 
 
68 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 parent will cool and become a planet, like the Earth. 
 So worlds are born. 
 
 There are many Forces, but one group, the 
 ripples of the Ether, form an octave like that of 
 music. First of the seven notes are the long, slow 
 ripples which we feel as heat ; second, are the 
 Hertzian ripples used in the wireless telegraph ; 
 third, is a region of the unknown ; fourth, is the 
 octave of Light the rays of the spectrum ; fifth, the 
 Rontgen rays ; sixth, the Gamma rays proceeding 
 from radium ; seventh, the ripples of the Etheric 
 Force. It is upon the notes of this vast scale 
 that the forces of creation play the music of the 
 spheres. 
 
 The dust vibrations are of many kinds. One 
 we know as gold, another as hydrogen, a third as 
 carbon ; and when two kinds vibrate in perfect 
 harmony, they mingle together just like notes of 
 music. Thus oxygen and hydrogen vibrating in 
 harmony are water. 
 
 The first man who ever walked upon this path 
 of thought was John Brand I. He measured and 
 reproduced the vibrations of matter, the tremours 
 of Force. For him, in very deed, the stars sang 
 together. First of all mortals he heard the music 
 of the spheres. 
 
 It was John Brand II. who made hydrogen cease 
 to vibrate, so that it lapsed into ether, then struck 
 that mighty chord which brought the ether to life 
 again as gold. He had mastered the Divine alchemy, 
 he followed upon the footsteps of the Creator, he 
 played the music of the spheres. 
 
THE PENANCE CHAMBER 69 
 
 For ages the alchemist, not fathoming the ways 
 of God, had failed, but this humble and reverent 
 man grasped the great secret. He learned how to 
 make not only gold but all the elements of matter ; 
 he struck the chords of Force. 
 
VII 
 
 THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 
 
 To the foreman of the works, the physicist William 
 Robertson, had been entrusted the secret formula 
 for making gold. As a shareholder in Lyonesse this 
 man grew fabulously rich, and more, the brUliant 
 Sir William Robertson was ambitious of power and 
 splendour. Ill could he bear with the new master 
 of Lyonesse, plain Mister Brand of the shabby 
 clothes, the thread-bare furnishings, the cautious 
 policy. The two men were never friends, time made 
 them enemies. 
 
 Robertson earned a barony by joining Lord 
 Ulster's party, and expected an earldom for publicly 
 affronting his master. Then came the day of 
 trouble, when Brand joined issue with the Chancellor, 
 and war was imminent between Lyonesse and the 
 Government. The ingenious physicist was frightened, 
 foresaw disaster whichever side he joined, and 
 promptly betrayed them both. He was in America 
 now, starting new factories to undersell the gold from 
 Lyonesse. 
 
 So ended the great monopoly, so was the standard 
 wrenched from the master's hand, so came the fall 
 of gold. Brand only knew of one way upwards. 
 For him ascent of mountain heights meant sweating 
 
 70 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 71 
 
 labour, endurance, patience, faith. He could not 
 understand the winged vanity of this servant who 
 betrayed him in his own household, or of Lord 
 Ulster, who had betrayed the Empire. These men 
 had bartered their souls for wealth, rank, office, as 
 though the admiration of their fellows could ever 
 lift them up above the earth. They bartered their 
 souls for wings, and that which rose upon the wings 
 was only a swollen corruption. 
 
 Brand had no pity for the tortuous errors of 
 weak men, only a dull anger without understanding, 
 a smouldering rage which the slightest breath would 
 kindle into the flames of war. Then the Queen sent 
 for him. A woman was to turn aside the fury of 
 Lyonesse, to subdue and tame this man who reined 
 the coursers of the sun, and drove the awful powers 
 of creation. 
 
 The Queen sent for him. Brand mentioned to 
 his secretary that he had a business appointment, 
 and so, leaving his London office for an hour, he 
 walked to the palace, glad of a little exercise and 
 fresh air. He came to the gates, presented his card, 
 and was told that popes and archangels would be 
 denied admittance if they came to a state ball in a 
 tweed suit. 
 
 Lord Sydney got him passed through the gates, 
 but drew him aside under the shadows of the porch. 
 
 " Have you no other clothes ? " 
 
 " Not in London, Sydney. Is it vital ? " 
 
 " To a woman, yes." 
 
 " It seems there's some sort of a dance here, 
 to-night." 
 
 " Only a state ball," said the trooper sarcastically, 
 
73 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " for the royalties of Europe, the Embassies, and all 
 the dignitaries of the Empire — most of them took 
 the trouble to change their clothes." 
 
 They stood within the great Ionic portico, lighted 
 with flaring torches, occupied by the Yeoman of the 
 Guard in their ancient scarlet livery, bearing hal- 
 bards. By the door stood clusters of gorgeous 
 officers, and within one could see walls of translucent 
 alabaster, clusters of malachite columns, a vast 
 perspective melting into haze of golden light. 
 
 " Princes and dignitaries," said the master, 
 thoughtfully. " I wonder how many of them will 
 be alive next month." 
 
 "Is it so bad ? " asked Sydney. 
 
 " Unless you can get me the Russian papers." 
 
 " This afternoon," answered Sydney, " Her 
 Majesty gave me the order." 
 
 " Use it to-night." 
 
 " I can't leave the palace." 
 
 " These fripperies are more important ! " Brand 
 turned away from him in angry impatience. " I 
 can wait no longer. Take me," he said, " to the 
 Queen." 
 
 They crossed the portico, they entered the 
 vestibule, but at the foot of the alabaster stairs 
 Brand drew back, clutching Lord Sydney's arm. 
 
 The trooper saw the colour leave Brand's face. 
 
 " What's wrong ? " he asked. 
 
 " That carpet," said the master under his breath. 
 " Why is it red ? " 
 
 Lord Sydney stared at him amazed. " Why 
 not? " 
 
 Without answer, the great man brushed roughly 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 73 
 
 past him and hurried on. Did he foresee that 
 within a few weeks these alabaster stairs must run 
 cascades of blood, the gorgeous corridors beyond be 
 choked with corpses, the gaunt and starving mob 
 ravage these chambers of state, while shattered 
 dome and reeling tower crashed down through the 
 burning roof ? Did he foresee that the princes and 
 dames and gentlemen who thronged the rooms were 
 to offer tiaras of diamonds for horseflesh, to haggle 
 with stars and orders for a cup of water, and be 
 dragged out of the cellars and murdered in the 
 streets of the blazing capital ? 
 
 People shrank away from the look in Brand's 
 eyes as he approached them, many who began to 
 comment on his dress, stopped in mid speech, a lane 
 of silent spectators opened to give him passage, a 
 confusion of rumour followed in his wake, and the 
 news of his coming spread excitement to every 
 corner of the palace. For no light purpose would 
 the master of Lyonesse come unprepared in haste 
 at such an hour, business of moment was afoot, a 
 crisis in public affairs. Was it open war between 
 John Brand and the Government ? 
 
 Attended by Lord Sydney, the master entered 
 the throne room, and even he seemed to be moved 
 by the dazzling splendour of the scene. He saw a 
 vault of gold sustained on columns of onyx, an 
 atmosphere of radiant light, dense with perfume, 
 tremulous with music, a confusion of robes and 
 gems, the slow grave movement of some stately 
 dance, then a lane of people opening to the very 
 steps of the throne, where Margaret stood attended 
 by her court. 
 
74 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Her robes were like an iridescent cloud, and 
 wondrous opals starred her coronet. And like the 
 changing colour of the gems, her face was different 
 as he looked, a shade of annoyance melted to a 
 smile, yet in the very gentleness of her greeting, the 
 man was doubtful of a mischievous gleam in her 
 eyes. 
 
 Brand heard Lord Sydney making the presenta- 
 tion, felt that the people about him seemed em- 
 barrassed, wondered what fantastic etiquette he 
 ought to follow, looked our Lady straight in the 
 face, took her extended hand with reverence in both 
 his own. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said. " Please tell me what 
 to do." 
 
 He could not hear his own words, his heart so 
 thundered, and every artery in his body thrilled. 
 INIargaret was shaking hands with him frankly, 
 cordially. 
 
 " Yes, shake hands," she cried, tremulous with 
 laughter. " Let the Queen shake hands with the 
 King of Lyonesse ! " 
 
 " I am ashamed," he said, humbly. " I ought 
 to have dressed — to have " 
 
 " Come in disguise ? Why that would be 
 absurd for Lyonesse. We will ask you only to wear 
 the Rose of England," she took from her shoulder 
 a blood-red rose, and fastened it with a jewelled 
 brooch upon his breast. " My Lords," she cried to 
 her attendants, " witness that we create the Order 
 of the Rose for Englishmen who have served their 
 country well. Brand of Lyonesse, first Knight of 
 the Order of the Rose, this is our thanks for great 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 75 
 
 and ungrudging service. Come, honour us with 
 your escort, Mr. Brand." 
 
 She led him to a balcony overlooking the gardens 
 — faint came the sound of distant music there. She 
 thought of the things to be said, the things to 
 be done, wondered how she could deal with this 
 rough monster, hated the Chancellor for setting 
 such a task, gave up the whole business in 
 despair, and set herself to find out why Brand hated 
 women. 
 
 " Here we can rest," she said ; " you shall sit 
 there and let me stand where I can see all my 
 beech trees. Sometimes I stay here all through a 
 summer night with Orion and the Pleiads to keep 
 me company." 
 
 He could see her face dark against the full moon, 
 wonderfully still. Her breast rose and fell as she 
 breathed, her every movement swayed the changing 
 glory of her moonlight robes. She seemed not 
 earthly, but kin of great Orion and the Pleiads. 
 
 " What is your garden like in Lyonesse ? " 
 
 " My garden ? " he answered, trying to control 
 his voice. 
 
 " I know," said Margaret, " what it must be 
 like, a garden of rocks and the white surf for flowers. 
 Your gardener is the wind — I should like your 
 garden." 
 
 " From my cottage," he answered, " the wall 
 goes do\vn three hundred feet sheer to the breakers." 
 
 " Oh, I can see it ! A wonderful cliff with big 
 outstanding stacks and bastions, where the sea- 
 eagles breed. How beautiful ! But can you live 
 there in winter ? " 
 
76 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Yes. I had a fright though once when a sea 
 wrecked my study." 
 
 " At three hundred feet ? " 
 
 " Seas have been known to break higher than 
 that. My sister and I spend many an hour watching 
 the big sou'-westers. Then the spray lashes miles 
 inland over the city." 
 
 " And what is your sister like ? " 
 
 " I believe she is plain," he looked at the Queen ; 
 " yes, she must be very plain, but somehow I never 
 thought of that till now. I'll ask her." 
 
 " Please don't," said Margaret, hastily, " she 
 might be angry." 
 
 " I'd rather not then," his grey eyes twinkled. 
 " Sarah has so many things to vex her." 
 
 " And you always live in that eyrie ? " 
 
 " Oh no, we go away sometimes in the Mary 
 Rose, our yacht." 
 
 " For holidays ? " 
 
 " We went to the Himalayas last, and perched 
 for the sunset view on Everest." 
 
 " I didn't think that even an aereal yacht could 
 live up there." 
 
 " I could show the Queen some wonderful places 
 if she would venture a trip in an etheric yacht." 
 
 " How I should like to see the world like that ! " 
 The Queen sighed. "I'm tied up, you know, and 
 everything I do is most improper." 
 
 This, then, was the monster, the dragon of the 
 Chancellor's fears, this simple-minded, plain-living 
 merchant, whose pleasure was in the greater, wilder 
 moods of Nature, who spoke so gently of a virago 
 sister. 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE ^^ 
 
 " Please tell me about the factories," she said. 
 
 " Must I talk of sympathetic vibratory physics ? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! Why that's worse than even 
 the Budget ! " 
 
 " And in practice a simpler, easier trade than 
 cooking." 
 
 " Even the changing of water into gold ? " 
 
 " A matter of rule of thumb, like making 
 bread. But I must not bore the Queen by talking 
 shop." 
 
 Our Lady's eyes intently studied Brand. " Do 
 you know," she said gravely, " that my advisers 
 call you a public enemy." 
 
 The man looked up at her smiling. " They lie," 
 he said frankly. 
 
 He dared to call her Chancellor a liar ! " You 
 will explain," she said. 
 
 " Oh, but I didn't want to offend you ! " 
 
 Margaret smiled despite herself. " You said you 
 would make gold cheap." 
 
 " I am so much a public enemy," he answered, 
 laughing, and spoke with easy confidence of a new 
 merchandise in wares of gold, of plates and cups, of 
 lamps and ornaments, for the common use and 
 comfort of the poor, such as had been beyond the 
 means of kings. He spoke of dreary brick houses, 
 and dismal streets annealed with rough gold, of 
 silver columns and gemmed entablatures, of public 
 monuments in golden bronze, of cities which will 
 not rust, or tarnish, or get dirty, which frost cannot 
 splinter or rain dissolve, their splendour imperishable 
 and their celestial beauty. Margaret thought he 
 had taken leave of his senses. For which of us in 
 
yS THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 those days dreamed of the golden age or ever 
 supposed that this should all come true ? 
 
 Our Lady's voice had a resentful note as she 
 reverted to the issues of the time, as in the Chan- 
 cellor's terms, she voiced his horror at the fall of 
 gold. 
 
 " A standard of gold set in the tides of trade ? A 
 beautiful image," said Brand, thoughtfully. " But, 
 dear me, how it condemns poor Ulster ! The tide 
 is an age-long ebb of falling prices. So is the 
 standard changed to a cross, and the debtor hangs 
 there." 
 
 " I don't understand," cried Margaret, affrighted. 
 
 " Neither did the Jews. The cross was of 
 timber once. Do you remember ? and He who 
 suffered, expressly said, * they know not what they 
 do.' The Jews were priests then, now they are 
 bankers, brokers of money, usurers, capitalists of 
 Ulster's party. And the cross is changed to gold 
 where mankind hangs crucified. * They know not 
 what they do.' " 
 
 " Oh, this is blasphemy ! " 
 
 " May I not even speak of the cross — I, the 
 bearer of that cross ? " 
 
 Our Lady looked at his clear eyes, and was 
 ashamed. Then trying to defend her cause — 
 
 " My Chancellor came to me," she cried. 
 
 "It is not then the crucified who cried to the 
 Queen for help ? Oh, may I plead for them ? " 
 
 So gravely, sorrowfully he spoke for the men who 
 labour on the land, who face the dangers of the air, 
 who sweat in the deep pits, who drive the machines 
 in the factories — for all the great labouring nation. 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 79 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Brand, I can't listen to this ! The 
 nation sends the men who advise me." 
 
 " The Jewish nation ? Yet even Ulster, their 
 high priest, has generously permitted my coming." 
 
 " Not to convert me to your strange views, 
 Mr. Brand." 
 
 " But to be condemned unheard ? Oh, surely 
 not ! " 
 
 " Go on," said the Queen, indignantly. 
 
 " I spoke of the standard, or cross of gold," he 
 said. " I, the idol maker, dared to speak blas- 
 phemously of the false god I have to uphold." 
 
 Margaret saw the twinkle in his eye, and could 
 hardly restrain herself from smiling. 
 
 " I'm going to be still more wicked," he went on. 
 " I'm going to tear the idol down and break it all to 
 pieces. Ulster would agree with me that our weatlh 
 is the stored-up labour of the bread-winners, that all 
 our capital arises from their patient, endless work. 
 By that measure we are so much better than our 
 savage ancestors, whose way of earning was to 
 snatch and run." 
 
 The Queen nodded assent. 
 
 " These counters then, which we call money, are 
 something more sacred than stamped gold or silver. 
 They are hours of human life beaten out on the 
 anvils of destiny. My tokens of labour were first 
 used at Lyonesse, and it has become the most 
 prosperous town in the world. The United States 
 adopted the labour money, and it is the most pros- 
 perous of all nations. My currency stops half the 
 cheating in finance, and Ulster's capitalists are in 
 a state of fear. I speak for the whole labour party 
 
8o THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 throughout the Empire, and for my own dear country, 
 for after three generations we Brands are still Re- 
 publicans of the United States. Yes, Ulster has 
 argued wisely of the tides of trade — he dreads the 
 tidal wave. I have set it in motion, and if this 
 Chancellor attempts the least resistance, it will 
 sweep away his Government." 
 
 Then Margaret turned on Brand in furious anger. 
 " You threaten this tidal wave," she cried. " You 
 dare to avow this sudden, cowardly, unprovoked 
 attack upon my Government." 
 
 " So far is it sudden," said Brand, with grave 
 respect, " that my foreman, bribed by Ulster with 
 a title, has bolted, to set up American factories, and 
 undersell my gold." 
 " Is this true ? " 
 
 " It was in my letter which Ulster has shown to 
 the Queen." 
 
 Margaret was silent. 
 
 " My attack," said Brand, " is cowardly." 
 " You admit that ! " 
 
 " Yes, I admit the fear that the Government will 
 commit suicide. In this emergency I strengthen the 
 public credit with certain lands as a gift forever to the 
 British nation. That also is in my letter which the 
 Queen has read. There is no danger to the Empire." 
 Margaret sank into a chair, and remained silent. 
 " My attack," continued the master, " is unpro- 
 voked. Far be it from me to even seem provoked 
 when the Chancellor offers the Queen in marriage 
 to a Russian dipsomaniac lately released from an 
 asylum. The Chancellor no doubt is the Queen's 
 servant expressing her Majesty's will." 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 8i 
 
 Our Lady's fan broke in her hands, but she 
 remained silent. 
 
 " The pubhc enemy," said Brand, " has so far 
 avowed his sudden, cowardly, unprovoked attack 
 upon Ulster's party. I have but reminded the 
 Queen as to terms of my letter which had escaped 
 her memory." 
 
 " Don't torture me," cried Margaret. " I have 
 not read the letter ! " 
 
 " I dare not accuse the Chancellor," said Brand, 
 " of leaving his sovereign to face such issues unarmed 
 and unprepared. He is an English gentleman in- 
 capable of conduct such as that." 
 " Stop, I command you ! " 
 " No," said Brand, rising to his feet. " If the 
 Chancellor has not warned the Queen, I shall ! 
 Bear with me, Queen Margaret ! I have to deal with 
 rough and brutal facts, to say things that hurt. 
 Forgive me ; be patient with me." 
 
 Margaret sat in rigid silence, at bay, waiting. 
 " The Queen has called me here," said Brand, 
 " and I must speak. I have come to plead for the 
 people, no matter what the cost. Russia, France 
 and Germany are mobilizing. In feverish haste the 
 League is arming for the invasion of England. Your 
 people are never prepared for war ; the Imperial 
 fleets and armies are utterly unready — I dare not 
 say how weak. Ulster, absorbed in appeals to 
 Russia, offering terms for peace so shameful that 
 they had to be denied in the House of Commons. 
 There is no hope in war, no hope of peace. Nothing 
 can save this country but the wreck of the Leagued 
 Nations by the fall of gold." 
 
 G 
 
82 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The Queen sat motionless, staring. 
 
 " There need be no fear," he said. " Ulster's 
 people dare not resist, lest they be swept away with 
 the Leagued Nations." 
 
 Then Margaret leaned forward in her seat, wide, 
 staring eyes intent upon his face, a slow hand 
 reaching out along the balustrade, and groping 
 fingers found an electric bell. 
 
 " Are we deposed ? " Her voice was low and 
 tremulous with passion. " Will you usurp our 
 crown when you have swept away our Government ?" 
 
 But the man who was to be tamed heard nothing, 
 because of his pity for this helpless woman cursed 
 with the heavy burden of the Imperial crown — 
 betrayed, abandoned, yet still of unbroken and 
 unflinching courage. 
 
 He took from its clasp the rose which the Queen 
 had given, the blood-red Order of the Rose for 
 Englishmen who have served their country well. 
 
 " It is bruised," he said, humbly, " by my 
 clumsiness." 
 
 " It still has thorns ! " cried Margaret. " You 
 have slandered our Ministers, and to-morrow you 
 shall meet them face to face, to repeat this treason 
 word for word at your own peril before the House 
 of Commons. You have insulted your sovereign ! " 
 Her hand struck the bell thrice. " Gentlemen of 
 the Guard ! " 
 
 Presently two orderlies of the Guard drew up in 
 her presence, saluting. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said her Majesty, " we have been 
 insulted. Expel this man from the Palace ! " 
 
 Margaret sat alone in her balcony trying to hate 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 8 
 
 kJ 
 
 Mr. Brand. She had never been so angry in her 
 life. 
 
 All men did her worship, hundreds of millions 
 rendered to her their homage, whole continents 
 obeyed her, and in her name the masters of the world 
 commanded. Her Imperial Majesty had never been 
 disobeyed, and here was a man who dared 
 
 What had he dared ? 
 
 He dared to pity her because she had lost her 
 temper. 
 
 She tore her fan all to pieces and scattered the 
 wreck on the floor. 
 
 This monster had come to be subdued, to be 
 tamed, to be turned from his purpose. He had not 
 been much subdued, or to any great extent tamed, or 
 in the least degree turned from his purpose. He 
 was not even ruffled ! The surf of her fury had beat 
 against his cliffs, and then he said he was sorry to 
 see her bruised. 
 
 There was the stab of defeat. Thrust a sword 
 into a pool, and where it touches the water it seems 
 to bend. Such is the sweet obliquity of a woman's 
 mind that, in its clearness, her defeat may seem 
 better than triumph. He was rather a nice monster, 
 this Brand ; friendly in a quaint way, very frank in 
 his admiration, and, whether she liked it or not, 
 determined to save her from the Russian marriage. 
 She was very angry stiU — with the Chancellor ! 
 
 When at last she gave the Chancellor audience, 
 her face was hard, her manner cheerful, her bearing 
 defiant. 
 
 " Ulster," she said, " I've failed." 
 
 The statesman was not such a fool as to ask for 
 
84 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 reasons. Well he knew the danger signals, the anger 
 growing in her eyes, as she spoke with the directness 
 of a man. 
 
 " Mr. Brand," she continued, " wrote you a letter, 
 part of which you told me, the other part kept back. 
 Give me the letter ! " 
 
 " Oh, madam, not that, I implore you." 
 
 " I insist." 
 
 " Dear Lady, forgive an old, tried servant of the 
 State, who would give his life to guard you from 
 such things ! " 
 
 " Give me that letter ! " 
 
 There were tears in old Ulster's eyes as, with a 
 shrinking reluctance, he protested — even while he 
 obeyed — speaking of things unfit for the Queen to 
 see, and devilish evil planned against her throne. 
 
 But Margaret, in burning eagerness, wrenched 
 the paper from his hand, and bending forward to 
 the light which streamed from the windows, spread 
 out the sheet upon her knees and read. 
 
 There is no need to quote this forged letter, 
 which made the Queen believe that Brand of 
 Lyonesse, under pretext of the gold crisis, was 
 plotting to seize the actual reins of power. 
 
 Subtly was the mind of our Lady poisoned until 
 the Chancellor seemed to defend the realm from foul 
 and deadly treason, against the nation, and against 
 the Queen. 
 
 " Ah, madam," he said, " I am an old man, 
 my eyes are dim with the passage of many years 
 in the royal service. I cannot claim the inspired 
 foresight which commanded that this traitor expose 
 his own infamy at the very bar of the House of 
 
THE TAMING OF LYONESSE 85 
 
 Commons. Your Majesty has been pleased to hale 
 this man before the bar of the nation's judgment. 
 When he speaks in public, when he threatens the 
 nation, when he declares war against civilization — 
 then, and then only, will public opinion support 
 the Government, and we shall deal swift vengeance. 
 But there will be a panic, this threat of the fall of 
 gold will disturb the peace of the nations, and, 
 madam, the nations will hold Ministers responsible." 
 
 " But you're not." 
 
 " What, madam, do France, Russia and Germany 
 care for that ? Remember the League has but one 
 purport, one policy — the destruction of the British 
 Empire. Here is the chance for which they have 
 been waiting for many years. They are mobilized, 
 they are ready, and their strength is overwhelming." 
 
 " Yes," cried the Queen ; " but our Treaty with 
 Russia." 
 
 " If it were only signed. We have offered 
 Russia her own terms, yet she hangs back." 
 
 "But why? " 
 
 " Because the old Emperor dreams of a dearer 
 and more personal bond." 
 
 The Queen turned pale. 
 
 " The Russian constitutional monarchy allied 
 by blood to the ancient and royal line of England. 
 Ah, madam, the dream is worthy of that great 
 prince. For, once unite these two Empires with 
 ties of blood, and henceforth that alliance ensures 
 the power which alone brings peace." 
 
 " And the newspapers will gush," said Margaret, 
 bitterly. " And the people will shout. Oh, this is 
 worthy of you ! " 
 
86 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The Queen rose from her seat trembhng, her face 
 white with fear, her hands clenched, her teeth set. 
 But what was in her heart could not be spoken. 
 From her childhood the lesson had been drilled into 
 her brain that princes may not have hearts, that 
 they may not love, or mate, save for public ends. 
 But used as she was to the curse of the blood royal, 
 she shrank back affrighted when national policy 
 doomed her to marry the Grand Duke Alexander. 
 
 " Ulster," she cried, " Margaret of England says 
 that an English gentleman might be found, who 
 is neither a prince nor a cousin, nor a coward, 
 nor even a drunkard, and the nation be all the 
 stronger." 
 
 " Madam, remember the blood royal of that 
 great race which has for twenty centuries reigned 
 in this island. Your ancestors never failed the 
 nation, though many died for England, and all have 
 suffered for her. Is Margaret less royal, less brave, 
 than they ? If the Queen fails us now, this coming 
 world-storm of financial panic w^ill bring the great 
 invasion on our coasts. We need in our sovereign, 
 courage sprung from a race of kings." 
 
 The Queen was in torment, and now in the back- 
 ground of her mind, a sunburnt, manly gentleman 
 was speaking of his cottage on the cliffs, of his sister 
 Sarah, who was plain, of the surf which beat upon 
 the rocks, and the spray which drove for miles, and 
 the spindrift high in air above the storm-lashed 
 granite of Lyonesse. 
 
 " There will be war," said Ulster. " Thousands 
 must die upon the field of battle. Women must cry, 
 and orphan children must starve." 
 
THE TAMING OF LYOxNESSE 87 
 
 " Let there be war," cried Margaret. " War is 
 better than shame." 
 
 " Your Majesty, if war can save us from shame — 
 let there be war. But when we are overwhelmed, 
 when all our people are given over to their enemies, 
 then there is shame. When our bread-winners, 
 ruined by the invasion, must starve to pay indemnity 
 to Europe — then there is shame. And shall the last 
 of our great sovereigns leave us to shame like 
 that ? " 
 
 Margaret, standing between the glow of the lamps 
 and the soft pallor of the night, robed in a texture 
 of changing glory like the wings of angels, looked 
 up to the smiling face of the dead moon. Must she, 
 like that poor servant of the world, the life fire 
 quenched and hope utterly perished, move on an 
 orbit of unending patience, and by a borrowed light 
 from Heaven shine for cold duty's sake before 
 mankind ? So many a woman with a broken heart 
 has made of her living death a light for men. 
 
VIII 
 
 THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS 
 
 The mother of Parliaments was in session, that 
 venerable and most majestic court which struck the 
 fetters from our slavery and made us free. Here 
 was the serfcreated citizen, here we gained liberty 
 of Faith, freedom of utterance, freedom of education, 
 freedom of commerce. And here Brand cut the 
 last shackle of all our chains, and gave us the free 
 finance. 
 
 There is no need to repeat his words. He had 
 mankind for audience, and those words will never be 
 forgotten. 
 
 Consider, then, what he did : 
 
 He moved to save the Empire from Ulster's treason. 
 
 For the confounding of the Leagued Nations, and to 
 take our enemies at unawares, he hastened the fall of gold. 
 
 To be exact, at three days' notice, he offered ounce 
 ingots of fine gold at a fenny each to he sold by the Bank 
 of Lyonesse in every large town throughout the world. 
 
 He promised to accept British money at full value, 
 giving in exchange the Labour currency as used in 
 America and at Lyonesse. 
 
 This Labour money may be defined as a currency 
 based on the security of public lands, all value of land 
 being created to the labours of the community. With 
 
 88 
 
THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS 89 
 
 the increase of public revenues from State land, the 
 taxes are gradually remitted. 
 
 Mr. Brand further opened two thousand shops in 
 the Kingdom where food was offered for Lyonesse 
 currency. 
 
 And to strengthen the credit of his enemies in power, 
 he gave us his private estates, worth more than three 
 hundred million pounds. 
 
 A sound swept through the chamber like a sob, 
 as the great merchant received from an attendant a 
 roll of parchment, and in silence bent down laying the 
 gift at the feet of his hearers. 
 
 "It is the beginning," he said. 
 
 He was standing before a single rail of brass, the 
 Bar of the Commons. In front of him extended 
 the open gangway to the table bearing the mace, 
 and above sat the Speaker in his chair of office. On 
 either side rose the close-packed benches back to 
 the walls, aloft were the crowded galleries. 
 
 The wavering factions were won for Lyonesse, 
 the Labour party waited exultant, and a division 
 then would have wrecked the administration, saved 
 the Empire. Still the hard-stricken Ministers were 
 silent, and all men in strained attention, breathing 
 deep, fastened keen eyes upon the American's face. 
 
 " Let no man blame me for the Fall of Gold. 
 Through the treachery of one of my servants the 
 monopoly has fallen from my hands, the barriers are 
 shattered, and the world goes on. We are in the 
 presence of forces irresistible, powers beyond control. 
 Against this hour of danger I have provided money, 
 credit, food to strengthen the hands of the Govern- 
 ment, to sustain the life of the Empire. 
 
90 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " But I must warn you, and beg you to hear 
 my warning, that any attempt to withhold these 
 things from the people will result in overwhelming 
 disaster." 
 
 Then in an awful silence the leader of the Govern- 
 ment rose from his place upon the Treasury bench. 
 
 " Do we understand, Mr. Speaker," he said, 
 angrily, " that Mr. Brand threatens the Imperial 
 Government ? " 
 
 " No," answered Brand ; " I warn." 
 
 Sir Jonas Mempes raised his hand, stilling the 
 disquietude of the House. 
 
 " Mr. Speaker," he turned to address the chair. 
 " We are warned, sir, by this gentleman that he is 
 about to debase and degrade the coinage which 
 bears the image and superscription of her Imperial 
 Majesty, and which also bears a statement of value 
 to which is pledged the good faith of this Govern- 
 ment. The Queen and her lieges are invited to 
 assuage their defaulted honour with a currency 
 bearing the countenance and superscription of Mr. 
 John Brand. 
 
 " Whose is this image and superscription ? That 
 of Mr. John Brand, citizen and merchant. Render, 
 therefore, unto Mr. John Brand the things which 
 belong to Caesar ! 
 
 " I do not deny, sir, the undoubted right of any 
 citizen and merchant to sell fine gold, or to issue 
 promises to pay, whether stamped upon metal or 
 paper, or the skins of beasts. But if we find such 
 commerce doing treason to the sovereignty of our 
 Lady, the Queen, with dishonour and ruin to her 
 lieges, I claim that this Parliament has the higher 
 
THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS 91 
 
 undoubted right of restraining that commerce by 
 force. 
 
 " I will render to Margaret, Queen and Empress, 
 the things which belong to my sovereign, but this 
 august commonwealth of nations, this British 
 Empire is not to be ruled by any broker of money, 
 or any merchant of gold. 
 
 " Sir, I understand that Mr. Brand warns us that 
 he is about to seize control of the public moneys. 
 Now, the whole function of Government consists in 
 the maintenance of public credit, the collection of 
 revenues, and the application of funds to the uses 
 of the community. Such function, vested once in 
 the singular puissance of kings, has become the 
 heritage of the electorate, the Divine right of the 
 people. The maintenance of that right unimpaired 
 either by kings, armies, traitors, or mobs is the 
 special and peculiar function of the House of Com- 
 mons. To interfere with, or to threaten that right 
 is felony. Mr. Brand is either our King, or he is 
 accused out of his own mouth of high treason. 
 
 " Sir, it is within the constitutional rights of the 
 House to authorise the Speaker in the committal 
 of Mr. Brand to the Clock Tower, but I submit that 
 this gentleman is here of his own free will, and 
 stands with his rights untarnished as in some sort 
 our guest. 
 
 " Again, the House of Commons may take legal 
 proceedings through the Attorney-General, but I 
 submit, sir, that this is a case in which the whole 
 Parliament must as one man confound a perilous 
 conspiracy, or be lacking in its duty to mankind." 
 
 The sullen mutterings of the Opposition had 
 
92 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 grown now to a roar which drowned the Speaker's 
 voice. 
 
 " I observe," said Sir Jonas at last, " that Mr. 
 Brand is still present as a guest of the House." 
 
 Loud shouts rang out from beneath the galleries, 
 members started to their feet. 
 
 " Order ! " cried the Speaker. " Order ! Ser- 
 geant-at-Arms, conduct Mr. Brand to the doors ! " 
 
 Then far above the tumult and confusion of the 
 House, the voice of Sir Jonas Mempes rang out his 
 challenge. 
 
 " On behalf of the Government, I beg leave, Mr. 
 Speaker, to give notice of a bill attainting Mr. John 
 Brand of High Treason ! " 
 
 Slowly the American walked, attended by the 
 officers of the House, across the deserted lobby, 
 along the empty corridor, then into Westminster 
 Hall, and down the broad stairway, until the tumult 
 died away in the far distance, till only the stone 
 flags answered to his tread, and the walls echoed, 
 His way was lined with statues, pale ghostly effigies 
 of Kings and Statesmen, their triumphs all forgotten, 
 their griefs assauged, their sins, their penances, 
 their burning passions stilled. Many of these had 
 been arraigned, attainted, slain, or fretted them- 
 selves to death, or died in harness, builders of 
 England, architects of her Freedom, forerunners of 
 her Peace. 
 
 So he came to the doors and passed out into the 
 sweet air of the evening, refreshed and humbled. 
 Perhaps, in his zeal for the Queen, he had dealt rather 
 too abruptly with the Commons. 
 
THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS 93 
 
 This man was but thirty years old. With 
 reverend age such as ours, and our maturer wisdom, 
 he would not have dared to mount that perilous 
 Chariot of the Sun, or threatened senates, or laid 
 impatient hands on grave affairs. It was not his 
 fault that we were falling into Russian vassalage, 
 or that his disloyal servant shattered the standard 
 of gold ; he lacked the benefit of our sage advice, 
 and if he greatly dared, he suffered for his audacity 
 in trying to rescue the Empire by affronting the 
 Commons. 
 
 Some day his statue will be joined to that white 
 avenue of the mighty dead who set the landmarks 
 on the way of life. That night, whatever its cost to 
 the master of Lyonesse, we entered the region of 
 Etheric Power, and the beginning of a more spacious 
 age. For so rolls the ordered motion of our race 
 from height to height up the great way towards 
 Heaven. The fences are breaking down, the barriers 
 are conquered, and our horizon broadens as we climb. 
 We hope that the walls of Time and Space shall melt, 
 the skies be torn asunder like a scroll, and when we 
 win to the last heights of human destiny, we shall 
 stand upon white summits, we shall behold the 
 Infinite. 
 
 Rose flush of evening on the Abbey spires, cool 
 bloom of dusk on that long range of palaces housing 
 the departments of State, violet splendour of count- 
 less lamps, and Whitehall seething with traffic, so 
 Brand saw Westminster on that last day of peace. 
 Quiet in mind, a little tired, he strolled up White- 
 hall, taking the western pavement, touching his hat 
 when men saluted him. He thought of Margaret, 
 
94 
 
 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 the Queen, and the memory of her face was very 
 pleasant. He had just passed the narrow entry of 
 Downing Street when he heard a sudden sharp 
 fusillade of gunshots, and looking back noticed the 
 instant gathering of a crowd. He went on very 
 anxious at heart, thinking of Sydney. He was 
 abreast of the old Admiralty porch when he heard 
 behind him the clatter of a horse charging up the 
 street at full gallop. He paused, turned, went out 
 upon the causeway, and stood waiting full in the 
 lamplight. The horse, coal black, came tearing 
 down upon him, the rider, a gentleman of the Guard, 
 his helmet and armour shining like Sirius, greeting 
 him with a shout of recognition, waving something 
 in the air, a package of documents, the Russian 
 papers ! The black horse reared to the bit, the 
 rider sprang from the saddle. 
 
 " Well met," he cried; " Mr. Brand, these are 
 from Trooper Sydney. Take my horse, escape ! " 
 
 Brand took the package of papers, which reeked 
 of blood. 
 
 " Is he dead ? " 
 
 " Captured, sir, and Colonel Anderson shot. I'm 
 going to join Lord Sydney ! " 
 
 " Tell me your name." 
 
 " Browne." 
 
 The trooper glanced towards the advancing 
 police. 
 
 " Mount, sir. Ride for your life ! " 
 
 Brand swung to the saddle. " Where's the 
 Queen ? " he asked. 
 
 " At the Opera." The trooper snatched a white 
 glove from his helmet. " Send this to our Lady." 
 
THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS 95 
 
 " Thank you," said Brand, " I'll tell her how you 
 served." And so broke away at a gallop. 
 
 The trooper, drawing his sword, turned upon the 
 police, and delayed them with the formalities of his 
 surrender. 
 
IX 
 
 THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE 
 
 If Brand knew that his formal attainder was pending 
 in the Commons, he did not know that the Chancellor 
 had ordered his summary arrest. 
 
 The horse carried him to the Opera House, and 
 from the portico he found his way up the main 
 stairway into the foyer. There, at the ante-room of 
 the royal box, an equerry was in attendance w'ho 
 conveyed his word to her Majesty. 
 
 " A Queen's messenger desires audience, and 
 sends this white glove as a token." 
 
 Police officers had entered the box oftice below ; 
 Brand heard them on the stairs ; and orders were 
 shouted in the very foyer before the equerry re- 
 turned. 
 
 " For the Queen's sake," he begged, " be quick ! " 
 
 " Her Majesty will grant you audience." 
 
 Brand dashed past him into the ante-room. 
 " Now," he said, " guard that door." 
 
 He found himself alone in a small, dark chamber, 
 the very walls trembling with the crash of triumphal 
 music, and loud voices from the corridor behind 
 were already demanding admission. Then curtains 
 were drawn asunder, and Margaret herself stood in 
 the opening, against the glare of the auditorium, a 
 
 96 
 
THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE 97 
 
 glory of light shining as a halo about her, kindling 
 the diamonds of her tiara. Her face was in shadow, 
 her eyes big and dark as they searched the gloom of 
 the place, until they fastened upon him. 
 
 " Mr. Brand ? How dare you ! You a Queen's 
 messenger ? " 
 
 With a gesture of rage. Brand flung the Russian 
 papers upon the table between them. 
 
 " By right of blood ! " he answered. " In the 
 attempt to bring those papers to you, Colonel Ander- 
 son gave his life, Lord Sydney and Trooper Browne 
 their liberty — and I am Queen's messenger in their 
 place." 
 
 Margaret, with trembling hands, turned on the 
 lights, and, moved by an impulse of horror, shrank 
 back from the blood-stained papers ; then, startled 
 by a noise in the corridors — 
 
 " What's that ? " she cried. 
 
 " Don't be frightened," he answered quietly. 
 " It's only the police." 
 
 " What do they want ? " 
 
 " Only me, don't trouble yourself. Here," — he 
 took the Russian papers, and wrenched off the 
 blood-stained cover — " read," he said sternly. 
 
 Wonderstruck at his daring, confused by the 
 glitter of his eyes, humbled by the prescience of 
 some great calamity, Margaret sank down into a 
 chair, while Brand spread the papers before her. 
 She was dazed at first, understanding nothing of 
 what she read. Presently she became absorbed, 
 scanning page after page in feverish eagerness. 
 Then, in deadly rage thrusting the papers aside, she 
 rose confronting Brand. 
 
 H 
 
98 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " You accused our Chancellor, you slandered 
 him, you insulted your sovereign with falsehoods 
 about our administration, you were expelled from 
 our palace in disgrace." She clutched her throat, 
 hardly able to speak. " And you come back — with 
 these — infamous slanders ! " 
 
 " I have come back, woman, with the proofs for 
 which Colonel Anderson gave his life-blood and 
 two gallant gentlemen their liberty." 
 
 " But you have accused our Chancellor ! " 
 " Not I." Brand pointed downwards at the 
 papers. " These in his own hand accuse the man 
 who has sold your honour." 
 
 " My honour ? You mention my honour ? Under- 
 stand this, and tell all who care to hear, that it has 
 pleased us to take for our Consort His Imperial 
 Highness, the Grand Duke Alexander of Russia, 
 whose sword will deal with questions concerning our 
 honour. Now go ! " 
 
 Brand bent forward across the table and stared 
 into the Queen's eyes. 
 
 " I go," he said, " to Sydney and Browne in 
 prison, and on to Colonel Anderson in Hades, bearing 
 the Queen's message that by her orders, Ulster 
 betrayed the Formula of the Fleets." 
 
 " The Formula of the Fleets ? What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that if you are moved neither by 
 absolute proof of Ulster's treason, nor by the blood 
 of your servants, then you are partner with him, 
 you share his guilt, for you betray your people." 
 
 Then Margaret quailed before his eyes, shrank 
 back from him and turned away her face. 
 
THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE 99 
 
 " Oh, I can't, I can't ! " She looked up at him, 
 convulsed with terror, her arms thrust out in protest. 
 " I can't believe. He couldn't betray me like that ! 
 Betrayed ! Betrayed ! " 
 
 " Yes," answered Brand ; " betrayed." 
 
 " But the Formula of the Fleets ? Prove your 
 words. On your peril prove everything you say — 
 who charges our Chancellor with divulging the 
 Formula of the Fleets ? " 
 
 " His own son brings the charge. I have Lord 
 Sydney's word." 
 
 " Lord Sydney's word ! And that is more than 
 proof. But how shall I know that you come from 
 Sydney ? " 
 
 " That glove ! " said Brand. " How else should 
 I have that glove ? " 
 
 " And yet I " Margaret wrenched a letter from 
 within her dress. " Since yesterday I have kept 
 this with me to read, to study." There was hope 
 in her voice, a flash in her eyes again. " You wrote 
 this to the Chancellor. How can you speak of 
 treason ; you, who wrote this ? " She flung the 
 letter across the table. " Read ! " 
 
 " My letter to the Chancellor ? Why, this. My 
 letter was short — that's not my signature ! " He 
 held the paper against the light. " The paper — • 
 how does it come to bear this water-mark, the 
 Imperial cypher, ' M.R.I.' ? The water-mark in 
 mine is ' Lyonesse.' Is Lord Ulster insane ? Does 
 he suppose that I — a business man, would send such 
 a letter as that, and keep no certified copy ? " He 
 opened his pocket-book, and produced a copy sworn 
 before witnesses. " Let these be compared ! " 
 
100 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Intently Margaret studied both the water-marks, 
 and the texts of these two documents. Then, with- 
 out a word, crossed to an armchair over against 
 the curtains, and there lay back with closed eyes, 
 thinking. 
 
 " Mr. Brand," she said at last, wearily, " you 
 and my Chancellor charge one another with treason. 
 You spoke of Sydney — what part has he in it ? " 
 
 " He came to me," Brand answered, " a month 
 ago, gave me these papers, begged me to save the 
 Queen, and delivered his own father into my hands 
 for punishment." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Without any proofs against him, I had to attack 
 the Chancellor at once. There was no time to lose. 
 Without any proofs, I attempted yesterday to warn 
 the Queen of her peril, and was driven out from her 
 presence. Without any proofs, I was compelled 
 to-night to face the House of Commons. A Bill is 
 being passed attainting me of High Treason." 
 
 " How did you get back these papers ? " 
 
 " Yesterday Lord Sydney begged the Queen to 
 sign an order commanding Colonel Anderson to 
 obey him." 
 
 With a little startled movement, Margaret 
 looked up. 
 
 " How did you know that ? " 
 
 " I sent Lord Sydney." 
 
 " Proof upon proof," she muttered. " Please 
 go on." 
 
 " By the Queen's command, Colonel Anderson 
 stole these papers from the Chancellor's office. 
 He was shot down, Sydney was captured, Browne 
 
THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE loi 
 
 surrendered. By accident the message passed 
 to me," 
 
 " And the police are waiting outside that door 
 for you ? " 
 
 " I am an outlaw," Brand laughed, " and here 
 in sanctuary," 
 
 For a long time her Majesty remained silent, 
 while the ante-room shook with the tremor of music, 
 and the glow from the stage shone softly between 
 the curtains. 
 
 The performance was an oratorio based by Mr. 
 Stevenson upon the Divine Comedy of Dante, but 
 in accordance with a usage still new in 1980 both 
 vocalists and chorus stood in the wings of the pro- 
 scenium, supported by the orchestra, and a concealed 
 cathedral organ. For the oratorio was rendered in 
 the music of colour upon a screen, and Stevenson's 
 " Inferno " is notable for the dim, awful beauty of 
 its opening numbers, and for passages of terrible 
 splendour. For an hour there was no word spoken 
 in the ante-room, while the light changed and glowed 
 between the curtains, and the great chorus swelled 
 and rolled from the proscenium. 
 
 At last, with a little sigh, Margaret looked up. 
 " Tell me, Mr. Brand, what shall I do ? " 
 
 " Who am I," said Brand, with reverence, " that 
 I should dare give counsel to the Queen ? " 
 
 " At the risk of your life you came to warn me," 
 
 " That the Chancellor has committed treason ; 
 that I am a rebel in open revolt, that war has been 
 waged to-night, blood has been shed. This very 
 house is guarded by my yacht." 
 
 Margaret was silent. 
 
102 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " How shall I dare advise the Queen ? " said 
 Brand. " I have come to offer my life and all the 
 strength of Lyonessc to defend my sovereign and 
 my adopted country. I dare not advise, but weigh 
 the facts, Queen Margaret, and let me hold the scales. 
 As head of the State you must decide for England. 
 There is no compromise, no middle way. Denounce 
 the Chancellor of Treason, or commit me a rebel to 
 prison." 
 
 Margaret leaned forward, her hands resting upon 
 the arms of the chair, her eyes full of wonder. 
 
 " And you will submit ? " 
 
 " Am I not the Queen's servant ? " 
 
 " But they'll kill 'you." 
 
 " Should I care to live ? " 
 
 His manner was changed, the roughness was all 
 gone, as after a storm the ocean is at rest, deep, 
 quiet, fathomless. His eyes seemed to smile, and 
 his voice was low and reverent. 
 
 " Perhaps I am wrong, but I should not live to 
 see this country a vassal of Russia. My people at 
 Lyonesse and I have always worked for England, 
 and we all have a certain pride in working well. Set 
 that aside, my life is not the weight in either scale of 
 the Queen's judgment. Who will serve England 
 best, Ulster or Brand, the traitor or — the rebel ? " 
 
 " What if I refuse," said the Queen, proudly, 
 ''' to treat you as a rebel ? What if I, the Queen, 
 share the guilt of rebellion with you, and place 
 myself at the head of this revolt ? " 
 
 " There will be civil war," Brand answered 
 coldly, dispassionately, " the most terrible war in 
 all the annals of the world." 
 
THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE 103 
 
 From Margaret's neck there hung a cross of 
 diamonds, a thing of pitiless white splendour. The 
 Queen pressed the sharp stones of it against her 
 forehead. 
 
 " You," she said, " are read}^ to die for England, 
 and I — and I — and I have sold my body to this 
 Alexander of Russia. Death would be such a 
 little thing compared with that. If you give your- 
 self up, and I give myself up, there'll be no 
 civil war." 
 
 " There'll be no war," he answered thoughtfully. 
 " No war if the people accept the shame of peace." 
 
 " They will think as we do," said the Queen. 
 " The men like you, the women like me. The same 
 blood runs in them — and they'd cry out for war." 
 Margaret laughed nervously, and dropping the cross, 
 bent forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her 
 face in her hands. " To think for the people — to 
 live for the people, I was drilled to that, to be 
 married for the people with a thing that one could 
 not touch with the end of a glove. Ugh ! " She 
 shivered. " For the people, and I hate them ! Yes, 
 hate them. I wouldn't mind dying for them, but 
 to live for them like that is horrible ! 
 
 " I shaU never forget that night when mother 
 told me. Nobody will ever know what she suffered 
 bravely, quietly, hopelessly, wearing what she called 
 her crown of thorns. And then one night she took 
 me on her knee — a poor, little, scraggy thing I was, 
 all arms and legs. How she cried — and I was crying 
 too. She told me that after her I must be brave and 
 wear the crown of thorns, and I nearly cried my head 
 off. Yes " — Margaret's voice broke with a little 
 
104 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 whimper — " and I didn't know then all that it 
 meant." 
 
 She brushed away a tear with her gloved hand, 
 then looked up. 
 
 " I wonder," she said abruptly, " why I told you 
 — ^you of all men. Forget what I said, do you hear ? 
 — forget that I whined like a sick child — forget, I 
 say ! No, don't speak to me." Then in low, awed 
 tones, " I've got to think for the people." The 
 horror rushed in upon her senses, and feeling as one 
 does in the presence of the dead, in overwhelming 
 sorrow : " I am the Queen," she said, " and I must 
 hold the scales, must judge for the people. I can't, 
 I daren't. Oh, what am I that I should judge for 
 the people ? A little while ago I was playing with 
 dolls, on Monday rode with my Guard, on Tuesday 
 danced, and to-day I have to judge between you and 
 Ulster, between life and death, between war and 
 peace ! " 
 
 But to Brand it seemed a dispensation of heaven 
 that the fate of mankind was not at the mercy either 
 of a treacherous politician, or of a master of industry, 
 stained with the vices of the world, blunted and 
 brutalized by lifelong struggle. This child, in her 
 innocence and her purity, could only see the great 
 plain issue between right and wrong. 
 
 Margaret looked up into his face. " And I must 
 make up my mind ? " she asked. 
 
 The whole fate of the world hung in the balance, 
 and he answered gently — 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 A burst of triumphant music filled the theatre, 
 and then the clatter of applause, and, in the silence 
 
THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE 105 
 
 afterwards, from some far distance of the streets, a 
 sound, a confused murmur growing to a dull, ominous 
 roar. 
 
 " Hark," whispered the Queen, " what is that ? " 
 
 And Brand answered, " That is the beginning 
 of the storm." 
 
 A hum of conversation in the house drowned out 
 the sound, the auditorium was flooded with electric 
 light, men moved from their places to rest in the 
 interlude, and standing at the curtains Brand 
 looked down out upon the golden tiers garlanded 
 with roses, and throngs of women waving their 
 slow fans. 
 
 Outside in the streets men were shouting, but 
 he could not hear what they cried, amid the gusts 
 and eddies of the gathering uproar. A crowd had 
 surrounded the building now, turbulent, yelling. 
 Gentlemen from the audience who had strolled out 
 to the stairways returned to the tiers with blanched 
 faces. Some bade their women put on their cloaks 
 to leave, many brought newspapers, and were 
 assailed with questioning. The tidings of the night 
 spread on from tier to tier, an orator began shouting 
 from the gallery and had to be removed ; even in 
 the grand tier a woman screamed. 
 
 In haste the management had the lights turned 
 down while organ, orchestra and chorus took up the 
 measure of the oratorio, but not even the seven Hells 
 of Dante could still that audience, or drown the 
 sullen, vengeful roar of the crowds outside. Many 
 who tried to leave the theatre came back unable to 
 face the tumult of the streets. The management 
 began cautiously to withdraw the audience by way 
 
io6 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 of the iron doors and the stage, while the performance 
 dragged on amid tumult and growing panic. 
 
 Only once in that hour Margaret spoke. " Are 
 you not afraid ? " 
 
 Brand smiled and shook his head. " Not even 
 a little." 
 
 " I see the Queen's face," he said, " I hear the 
 Queen's voice, and my world has narrowed down to 
 these four walls. Presently the Chancellor will come, 
 and the Queen will give her judgment." He laughed 
 a little, looking down at her from his place by the 
 curtains. " Outside these walls of life there is 
 another broader world than this. The storm has 
 broken here, there are no storms yonder, in that 
 other broader world where we shall serve. Here 
 you are the mightiest of all earthly sovereigns, and 
 I your servant ready when you need me. But 
 there we shall have hands to grasp the stars, feet to 
 tread the orbit of the sun, and greater strength to 
 serve for greater ends. You hold life in your right 
 hand, death in your left hand, Margaret, and 
 presently you will judge whether I serve weakly 
 here, or strongly in the hereafter. Why should I 
 be afraid ? " 
 
 " You've given me back my courage," said 
 Margaret, humbly. " I shall not be afraid." 
 
 It was then that the equerry came announcing 
 the Chancellor and two Ministers of State who 
 desired audience. 
 
 " Let them come," said Margaret, and when the 
 doors had closed, she told Mr. Brand to wait in the 
 royal box. " Leave me," she said, and with a smile 
 held out her hand to him. " Whether it is life, Mr. 
 
THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE 107 
 
 Brand, or death, you will know that I tried to do 
 right ? " 
 
 " I am your servant," he answered, " in life or 
 death," and bending down he kissed our Lady's 
 hand. 
 
 Margaret was alone when Ulster came, standing 
 before the table, while all about the small, dark, 
 silent room swept the roar of the great panic. The 
 two Ministers bowed low as they entered her presence, 
 but her eyes were upon the Chancellor, so, instead 
 of bending his head, he looked at her wondering, 
 and laid a roll of parchment upon the table. Then 
 he drew back from before her stare, and bowed 
 profoundly. 
 
 " Your Majesty," he muttered. 
 
 " You may speak." 
 
 Before her staring eyes the Chancellor stammered, 
 " My colleagues and I — and I have begged this 
 audience, madam, on business of most desperate 
 urgency." 
 
 " What is this business ? " 
 
 " It is the will of the Parliament that Mr. John 
 Brand be attainted of treason felony. A Bill has 
 been passed, and requires only the royal fiat. La 
 Reine le veult ? " 
 
 " My Lords," the Queen spoke slowly, monoto- 
 nously, staring all the time into the Chancellor's 
 eyes ; " I send this matter back to an Imperial 
 Parliament which has had no time to think." 
 
 " Is it possible," cried the Chancellor, indignant, 
 *' that your Majesty sets the whole Empire at 
 defiance ? " 
 
 " Is that a threat ? " 
 
io8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " No threat," he answered, furiously ; " but a 
 reminder that the Royal Prerogative fell on the 
 scaffold of King Charles the First. Under the guid- 
 ance of her Ministers, the Queen will not expose 
 herself to deposition." 
 
 " My Lords," — her Majesty turned upon the 
 attendant Ministers — " you have heard me say that 
 this Bill concerning Mr, Brand must be again con- 
 sidered before we make it an Act of Parliament. 
 You have heard my Chancellor threaten deposition, 
 even death, as though the Queen could be bullied 
 with the blustering of so pitiful a coward. As a 
 woman I demand your protection from this man, 
 as your Sovereign we command you to obey." 
 
 The Chancellor tried to interfere. 
 
 " Silence," cried Margaret. " Silence ! I, the 
 Queen, am speaking, and I, not the Parliament, am 
 England. My Lords, I charge this man, my subject, 
 with being a paid spy and agent of Russia. He has 
 attempted to imprison Mr. Brand because he is loyal 
 and has come to my defence. He has betrayed the 
 Formula of my Fleets. I command you to seize 
 the Duke of Ulster, and to hold him as my prisoner. 
 You shall disobey me at your peril. Arrest that 
 man ! " 
 
 But these Ministers, supposing Margaret to be 
 insane, backed slowly out from her presence. 
 
X 
 
 THE DAWN OF THE TERROR 
 
 We have been slow to anger with our kings, grate- 
 ful if they were not altogether bad, tolerant through 
 much evil. One very shifty exponent of Heaven's 
 grace we killed, but, indeed, we were sorry after- 
 wards, made him a statue, mourned for him, dubbed 
 him the Martyr, and set up the son in his place, who 
 was seven times worse. 
 
 And even when we, the Democracy, took the 
 burden of Government on ourselves we did not grudge 
 our allegiance, supplies, apparel, and dignity of state 
 to the princes of Britain. English or foreign, good, or 
 bad, or infamous, we loved them as much as ever. 
 We were not unmindful of the leaders who fought 
 and bled for England long ago, but rather we upheld 
 in gratitude and loving memory the ancient symbols 
 of dead power. Crown, sceptre, throne, were 
 reverenced on bended knees, by a people who, being 
 kings, had become regal, both in might and in their 
 courtesy. 
 
 There cannot be two sovereignties in this realm. 
 When her Majesty attempted to wield in very deed 
 the royal power, she found that the iron sceptre of 
 her fathers had withered to a reed, and in her hands 
 broke. She was no longer Queen. 
 
 At midnight Parliament knew nothing of Ulster's 
 109 
 
110 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 treason, knew nothing of Brand's purport to strike 
 the Leagued Powers down before they had time to 
 attack. These lords and gentlemen of the Imperial 
 Council, the Peers, and the Commons, waiting for 
 the Chancellor's return with the royal assent, were 
 loyal men representing the whole federation of the 
 Empire, in honour bound to maintain the sovereignty 
 of the people. But they saw that with the Imperial 
 currency discredited by Brand, and Lyonesse money 
 discredited by Government, the sun would rise upon 
 conditions of general panic. 
 
 It was no time for polite remonstrances, threats, 
 or the slow processes of law. Brand had taken 
 sanctuary with the Queen ; and in her presence, or 
 in her house, he could not be arrested while she 
 reigned. At all hazards he must be captured, and, 
 if only for that necessity, the Queen who gave him 
 shelter must be deposed. 
 
 All the powers of the Imperial Council and the 
 Parliament were instantly called to aid. The new 
 day broke upon an Interregnum with His Grace of 
 Ulster as Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. 
 Margaret was called upon to abdicate, her Palace 
 was invested, and demand made at the gates for 
 delivery of her person. 
 
 Brand was attainted, his possessions were seques- 
 trated, a reward offered for his capture. It was 
 made a penal offence to circulate Lyonesse money 
 or to trade in specie. A moratorium accorded grace 
 to debtors. The day was made a Bank Holida3^ 
 
 But in the main issue the Government failed to 
 effect entry of the Palace, or to procure the body of 
 John Brand. 
 
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR iii 
 
 At midnight Brand's yacht escorted Margaret to 
 her Palace, and neither the Queen nor her servant 
 flinched from the instant necessities of civil war. 
 Indeed, the Duke of Ulster had scarcely reached his 
 office in Downing Street when, like a meteor, the 
 Mary Rose swept down out of space and dis- 
 charged a body of sailors and guardsmen upon the 
 roof of the Chancellory. The building was ransacked 
 from garrets to basement, the safe was broached, 
 its contents secured, and nobody knows to this day 
 how the Chancellor managed to escape. 
 
 Brand's people were in the house, and the yacht, 
 with open gangways, lay helpless upon the roof 
 when three electrical aerial destroyers of the Fleet 
 pounced down to effect her capture. She sounded 
 the recall, and gained some precious moments in 
 parley, but still escape was impossible, for the 
 destroyers had every weapon trained at point-blank 
 range. The last men gained their quarters on board, 
 the port clanged home, a bell sounded, and then in 
 haste the destroyers opened fire. To their amaze- 
 ment and horror they saw the yacht for an instant 
 poise in the moonlight, then change as they sup- 
 posed into a blur of quivering vapour and totally 
 disappear, leaving the shell-struck roof a mass of 
 flames. 
 
 Brand said afterwards that guardsmen and sailors 
 alike were seasick as she rose, circled round Bucking- 
 ham Palace, then flashed down on HoUoway Prison. 
 " It was a near thing," he confessed, " and I almost 
 killed one of my engineers. His heart stopped 
 beating and the surgeon had some trouble in pulling 
 him round." There was panic in the courtyard at 
 
112 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Hollo way, sharp explosions rang out here and there, 
 while some cased ammunition blew the store room 
 to pieces, raining showers of bricks into the court- 
 yard. Despite all resistance, two prisoners were 
 taken from the cells, and like a steel projectile, the 
 yacht flashed homeward, delivering Sydney and 
 Browne upon one of the Palace towers. Brand left 
 the yacht, which drove away some destroyers and 
 poised in the high air on guard. Until dawn, the 
 master was at work in an office set apart for him 
 on the frontage overlooking the Mall. 
 
 Since midnight the Palace had been ringing with 
 the noise of preparation for war. A single breath 
 from great artillery would sweep the fairj'-fragile 
 walls into white dust, but two hundred gentlemen 
 of the Guard thought otherwise. In the dead of 
 night, transport wagons were taken from the royal 
 garage, and under escort entered the silent metro- 
 polis. Warehouses were forced, weapons, pro- 
 visions and forage were taken in the Queen's name, 
 and the supplies brought back to the Palace. There 
 the tanks were filled, the non-combatants discharged. 
 The outward-facing windows were barricaded to 
 resist musketry, the re-entrants loopholed for machine 
 carbines, the salients turned into bastions command- 
 ing the curtains, and each door guarded with a small 
 earthwork. 
 
 On the level roof of one of the Palace towers the 
 Queen watched the red dawn break, the red dawn of 
 the Terror. Her ladies had been crying in the bed- 
 chamber, and she had cried too. They were all 
 gone now save Miss Temple, the governess, who had 
 been openly mutinous and rude to the Duke of 
 
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR 113 
 
 Gloucester, Captain of the Guard. Now the Court 
 Chaplain waited in his vestry not daring to proceed 
 with the early service, because Miss Temple was in 
 possession of the chapel, where she knelt protesting 
 aloud before the Altar. 
 
 The Queen was alone upon her tower, kneeling 
 with her arms thrown out upon the balustrade, 
 watching the red sun light the domes and the spires 
 of the Capital. The sun swung upwards, the little 
 white clouds swept merrily overhead, the Palace 
 resounded with sharp commands, the rolling of gun 
 wheels, and the tramp of men, while sometimes 
 through a momentary silence came the song of the 
 birds and whispering of the trees. Margaret's head 
 fell softly on her arm, and kneeling on the cold, 
 white stones, she slept, and sleeping dreamed that 
 once again she walked amid long aisles of chestnut 
 trees in the garden at Hampton Court. She walked 
 with the gaunt old governess hand in hand, talking 
 of days to come, and the courtly splendour of a stain- 
 less reign. Miss Temple was to be Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, the nation was to rest under the ancient 
 shadow of the Holy Church, women were to be for- 
 bidden to smoke or ride cycles, bachelors were to be 
 shut out from public office, music halls were to be 
 entirely devoted to the meetings of missionaries. 
 Then Mr. Brand came wandering up the avenue, 
 his yacht at heel like a dog, and he was remarking, 
 with a pleasant smile, that it was all quite simple 
 with etheric power, but would she be pleased to 
 wake up. In vain her protests, for he told her she 
 must wake up, she must, she must wake up. 
 
 She did awake with a start to find beside her 
 
 I 
 
114 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 a tall lad in a canvas suit, grimy from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " Oh, Tom," she cried, " go and wash. You, a 
 Prince ! " She yawned daintily as she rose to her 
 feet. " You example to the British public ! Oh, 
 you disgrace ! " 
 
 " A nice sort of Queen you make sleeping on the 
 tiles like a cat. But I say, Meg, won't it be fun if 
 they do attack ! Gloucester's giving me a machine- 
 gun, north-east salient. Oh, it's glorious ! " 
 
 " Do be cautious, Tom, you know you're next to 
 the throne." 
 
 " Keep the throne to yourself, I don't want it ! 
 Tommy of Lancaster with a crown ! Bah, it doesn't 
 look good enough. I say, won't you have some food ? 
 I'll send my servant up with a tray. You needn't 
 come down ; you'd get in our way downstairs." 
 
 " I'm very hungry," said the Queen ; " but is 
 there any food ? " 
 
 " Plenty," said the Duke of Lancaster ; " I'll send 
 some up. By the way, that man from Lyonesse 
 wants to have audience." 
 
 The Queen's face darkened and the yoimg prince 
 laughed. 
 
 " Ah, you see through him at last ; I'm so glad. 
 Margaret, the regiment hates him. I'll send him up 
 and just you give him fits. If you want him shot 
 give me first chance ; now do, Meg. I'd love to 
 riddle a man." 
 
 " Go away, go away, Tom, or I'll have you 
 arrested for cheek." 
 
 The young prince snatched a kiss, and fled 
 rejoicing. 
 
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR 115 
 
 Troops of the Government had already cinctured 
 the Palace with a cordon of steel ; and as the Queen 
 waited scraps of talk came drifting up from the 
 guarded walls, chaff of the besiegers, rallies of the 
 besieged. 
 
 Through the dark hours fear had come to Mar- 
 garet, her thought was haunted by the Master of 
 Lyonesse, her very dreams invaded. The fear was 
 too intangible for control, too great to fight. His 
 presence had driven her to refuge from him on the 
 highest tower, but even here she felt that, far above, 
 his j/acht hung on guard in the thin spaces of the air. 
 Again and again she had fought back the tears which 
 would come despite all her courage ; but now, con- 
 scious that her face was drawn and white, and sorrow 
 stained, and deeply lined, she found herself, woman- 
 like, trying to be neat before the master should see 
 her. In anger and in dread she waited for him at 
 whose word the great world-storm had broken loose 
 to drive her like a withered leaf whither she could 
 not guess and dared not think. He would come with 
 his quaint friendliness, strong and at ease, would sit 
 upon that balustrade and swing his legs like a boy, 
 talking of huge Powers as the counters of his game, 
 though nations reeled under the blows he dealt and 
 millions of men died for the words he spoke. She 
 could hear his tread upon the stairs, could feel his 
 rough presence as he crossed the pavement. She 
 braced herself with an effort to face him, then turned 
 and saw Brand as no one ever did before, haggard 
 and ghastly, utterly broken down. He had come 
 to her in weakness for sympathy, for comfort, 
 and all the fierce, vindictive words which she had 
 
Il6 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 prepared for his confusion passed from her mind 
 forgotten. 
 
 " It is done," he said faintly ; " all done," and at 
 the sound of his voice she shrank away in loathing. 
 " All done," — he sank down upon a stone seat 
 against the balustrade — " and now the Queen may 
 rest." 
 
 She looked across the great town southwards, 
 and from far off came sounds of distant tumult. 
 And then in passionate reproach she echoed — 
 
 " Rest ? Stand up and see." The words came 
 harsh from her throat. " See what you have done ! " 
 
 He stood up and his slow glance went outward 
 from sylvan parks and tree-girt palaces to long- 
 drawn lines of bright-hued garden roofs, sky- 
 piercing domes, and sun-gilt monuments, a valley 
 of terraced buildings, stone-clad hills, heights over- 
 flowed, and towered heights beyond, suburbs which 
 rivalled Babylon and Rome, and still no visible 
 limits bounded London. Ships beat the clear air 
 with unnumbered wings, yachts from the suburbs, 
 aerial liners home from distant towns, and far above 
 the grim destroyers soared. So fared the illustrious 
 Capital of the world just at the last end of the electric 
 age. The momentary tumult had died away. 
 
 " How quiet it is," he said, looking down to the 
 streets ; " and all the poor folk must think that the 
 last trumpet has sounded, that this is the Day of 
 Judgment." 
 
 " Because of your crime and mine," said the 
 Queen, in bitterness. " Oh, why did I listen to you ? 
 Why did I attempt to save myself from the Grand 
 Duke at such a price as this ! " 
 
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR 117 
 
 " Do not be angry," he answered, resting his 
 elbows on the balustrade. " The big clouds roll up 
 the sky, there's lightning and thunder, a huge, 
 tremendous roar that makes everybody frightened, 
 the rain splashes down and smokes up, the drenched 
 earth quivers and steams — and then we all feel much 
 better, and the Chariot of the Sun shines high in 
 Heaven." 
 
 She turned in coldness from him. " I have 
 seen," she said. 
 
 " And I have seen," he answered, wearily. " So 
 Ulster sent his troops to guard the Palace ? That 
 was thoughtful of him." He leaned heavily upon 
 the balustrade and turned a wan face, smiling. " I 
 have seen Ulster make me a poor man this morning. 
 He has three hundred million sterling now to help 
 the people through this trouble : he will save me a 
 deal of work. I have seen him capture my transports 
 laden with food, my stores and warehouses of pro- 
 visions, my two thousand bread shops which were 
 to open this morning. He kindly undertakes the 
 work of feeding eighty million people for me. If a 
 few millions go hungry now is it my fault that I 
 gave, or Ulster's blame that he stole ? " 
 
 " Only a few milHons ! " the Queen moaned. 
 "Oh, horrible ! horrible ! Only a few millions dying 
 of hunger because of your crime and mine." 
 
 " Nay," he answered, gently ; " because Ulster 
 has taken the food I gave to the people. But for 
 that seizure, no man need have starved. They will 
 understand. All night I have been busy that the 
 world might understand. To the newspapers I have 
 dispatched the story of what I have done. First the 
 
ii8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 people will read Lord Sydney's deposition as to his 
 father's treason, and the papers secured in proof. 
 Then they will read in facsimile those Russian 
 papers, showing in Ulster's writing how he betrayed 
 his country. Next comes the story of my vengeance 
 against a disloyal Government, my gift to a betrayed 
 nation, and finally there is the Queen's own passionate 
 appeal to her people." 
 
 Brand laughed a little. " Ulster set a trap, and 
 the jaws have closed not on the Queen, not on the 
 Queen's servant. I think I see Ulster's legs in the 
 trap. What will the people say of this Chancellor 
 who is an agent of Russia, who has divulged the 
 Formula of the Fleets, torn up the British Constitu- 
 tion, and dared to levy war against the Queen's 
 Majesty ? By attacking me he has beggared all his 
 capitalists. By seizing my gift he has to feed eighty 
 million of his enemies. I think that Ulster may be 
 safely left to the people." 
 
 " But," said the Queen, doubtfully, " the Navy 
 and yonder troops obey the Government." 
 
 " From force of habit," Brand laughed easily, 
 " and in the end some will side with the Lord Pro- 
 tector, some with their sovereign. Even if they 
 attack I have but to give one signal to my yacht." 
 
 " And the Chancellor is caught in the trap he set 
 for you ! " Margaret's voice rang with triumph 
 now, though her eyes were glittering with tears, as 
 turning to Brand she seized him by the hands. " At 
 last I understand, at last I know. Can you forgive 
 me all my doubts ? Tell me," — she seemed to plead 
 for his full confidence — " what shall I do ? " 
 
 " Wait," he said, earnestly. " For time is on 
 
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR 119 
 
 the Queen's side, and every day will weaken Ulster's 
 following. The Queen has appealed to her people 
 and they will reply. Wait, the Queen is at war with 
 Ulster, not with the nation, and any movement now 
 means bloodshed. Englishmen are not so easy to 
 rear that we should waste them." 
 
 " And we have strength to wait ? " 
 
 For answer he pointed upwards to the heavens, 
 while the Queen watched him, wondering and afraid. 
 
 " There's something supernatural here," she 
 whispered. " Hope has come back to the earth, and 
 only an hour ago I could see nothing but blind 
 destruction. You have faith ? " 
 
 " Faith ? " He bowed his head. " Yes, faith 
 in God most pitiful — faith in my Lady Margaret of 
 England — faith in this country, always very great 
 in moments of danger. We are a masterful race. 
 Even Ulster strikes bravely in his peril, strikes out 
 like a man and fights hard. It has given me a new 
 faith in Englishmen to find him such a strong 
 enemy." 
 
 The Queen looked down at the long lines of the 
 investing troops, and the midsummer sun shone on 
 her wavy hair. The face of Margaret at rest was 
 surely the saddest face in all the world. Her loath- 
 ing and terror of the man was gone for ever. 
 
 " We must not think," said Brand, " that Ulster 
 is beaten yet. I feel that he has other weapons, 
 other resources ; I cannot guess where the next blow 
 will fall, but he strikes hard, with rare confidence in 
 his strength." 
 
 " Yesterday," she said, and there was a little 
 quiver about her lips, " I was Queen of England." 
 
120 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " And to-morrow," he answered, " you will be 
 Empress of the World." 
 
 " And yet," she went on, " I have misgivings — 
 everything changes so quickly that I am bewildered.'* 
 
 " Yesterday I was my own master, at least I 
 
 thought so ; but now " He looked at the Queen's 
 
 face and his eyes became very bright. " Ah, yes, 
 it is all written up on the mess-room walls — 
 
 ' I swear 
 To reverence the Queen as if she were 
 My conscience, and my conscience as the Queen.' 
 
 Oh, how the words took hold of me this morning, as 
 I saw them written on the walls." 
 
 His face became almost beautiful as he looked 
 at the Queen, he spoke as one inspired, and all his 
 heart went out with the solemn words of the code of 
 honour. He knelt at the Queen's feet, he took the 
 Queen's hands in his, and looking up into her wonder- 
 ing eyes he repeated — 
 
 * To love one maiden only, cleave to her 
 And worship her with years of noble deeds 
 Until I win her.' 
 
 " Oh, Margaret, Margaret of England, the God I 
 worship gave me etheric power. I thought I was 
 omnipotent, but I made mistakes, terrible blunders, 
 thinking I could do all the work in a week. I was in 
 such a hurry, full of a boy's pride of service, and look 
 at the horrors I have brought upon the world with 
 my rash haste. What is etheric power compared 
 with the power in a woman's eyes ? I don't know how 
 it is, but I see everything so clearly now, and all 
 
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR 121 
 
 my power is nothing — nothing whatever in the eyes 
 of the Queen. I suppose I must be in love. Am I 
 in love ? " 
 
 " You mustn't," gasped the Queen, " it's not 
 allowed. The Queen is not allowed to be a woman." 
 
 He laughed, kissing her hands as he spoke. " Not 
 if I conquer the world and lay it at the feet of the 
 Queen ? " 
 
 " I don't know," Margaret smiled sadly. " I 
 must ask my governess, and she will say, there are 
 no precedents in the book of etiquette. We must be 
 good and serve England." 
 
 " England ! " he cried, gazing into the Queen's 
 eyes. " I love you, England. Isn't that allowed ? " 
 
 " Not if you put it that way, Mr. Brand. Eng- 
 land is not a woman, but a country." 
 
 " Bounded on the east by a man's love, and on 
 the west by a man's hope, and on the north by a 
 man's fears, and on the south by a man's faith." 
 
 " But that's not geography, Mr. Brand. Please 
 get up." 
 
 " I won't unless you promise to let me love 
 England my own way." 
 
 " I can't prevent that," said Margaret, smiling. 
 
XI 
 
 THE WORLD-STORM 
 
 When Brand made his declaration before the Pariia- 
 mcnt night had aheady fallen over Europe, and 
 although it was still broad day in the New World, 
 the banks and exchanges were for the most part 
 closed. 
 
 But out beyond the Pacific another dawn had 
 flamed along the Kamschatkan volcanoes, the rose 
 flush glowed upon the snows of Fuji, a land breeze 
 awakened the dreaming Eastern Isles, a level sun 
 flashed diamonds in the surf of the Barrier Reef, and 
 the bells of Australian cities rang their summons to 
 work and prayer. So it was that the world-storm 
 which gathered in Europe, broke first upon that far- 
 off Commonwealth which stands at the gates of the 
 Daybreak. 
 
 In Brisbane and Sydney, in Melbourne and Auck- 
 land, the people were at their breakfast-tables when 
 the news' telephones rang the first notes of alarm, and 
 spoke of the fall of gold. " Nothing to fear," said 
 the average bread-winner. " Brand guarantees good 
 money." 
 
 Next came the news that the master was charge- 
 able with treason. 
 
 " Nothing to fear," said the average Australian. 
 
THE WORLD-STORM 123 
 
 " Brand will be in gaol and the old money sound as 
 before." 
 
 Prudent men called at the bank to withdraw 
 their deposits. Careful housewives laid in a stock 
 of food. There was a heavy run on all the banks, a 
 sharp rise in the price of provisions, a reluctance to 
 give the usual measure for gold, but still no general 
 panic until noon. 
 
 " The Queen joins Lyonesse in open war against 
 the Parliament." 
 
 They are of the master race, these Australasians, 
 men who have conquered the deserts, law-loving, 
 self-controlled, cautious, not very easily frightened, 
 ready to lay wagers cheerfully on the issues of life 
 and death. But the bread-winner will fight like 
 a wild beast in defence of his wife and his children. 
 The coinage was discredited, Brand's labour money 
 might become waste paper. 
 
 " Get food while money still has power to buy ! " 
 
 The rich besieged the banks, and prosperous 
 people bought loads of provisions for cash, not caring 
 what they paid. The shops of the butchers, grocers, 
 and bakers were thronged with customers begging to 
 be served. Still there was decency and order, a 
 cheery confidence that the storm would pass, and 
 the taking of heavy odds against Lyonesse. 
 
 " Brand's private yacht has defeated three 
 destroyers." 
 
 Etheric power ! These people had been familiar 
 
124 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 with Brand's ships for years, bolts of wrought steel, 
 propelled by etheric engines, which could flash 
 through high space at two hundred miles an hour. 
 They were not armed, but suppose that he used them 
 as rams against the fragile, electric battle fleets ? 
 Lord Ulster had levied war against etheric power ! 
 
 Then men went mad. In the rush for food 
 women were crushed to death, and many persons who 
 had secured provisions, were set upon and robbed 
 by criminals. Shops were plundered, armouries 
 were sacked, the police were overwhelmed. Then 
 aerial destroyers fired on the mob. 
 
 Sweeping away all values attached to money, 
 with every hour the stress of panic spread. A 
 coinage is only the small change of trade, but with 
 its failure all belief in bonds and promises, all savings, 
 all investments were dishonoured. The rich were 
 bankrupted, the poor thrown out of work, the shops 
 were closed, traffic was suspended, private and public 
 credit alike were shattered. By the third day the 
 Government of the Commonwealth had fallen, and 
 men went armed to guard their families. 
 
 At the first motion of the storm, the Australasian 
 bankers sent out their plea for help. The Phillipines 
 and Japan were already appealing, and the cry of 
 the islands awakened Asia. But there was no help. 
 Bravely the Chinese merchants faced the crisis when 
 their time was come, and honourably met their 
 obligations. Malaya awakened, Burmah, India, 
 Persia, Siberia were swept from end to end ; and so 
 in the wake of the sun the storm swept on, travelling 
 at a thousand miles an hour, gathering momentum 
 
THE WORLD-STORM 125 
 
 every moment until it fell like the crash of doom 
 along the length of Africa, across the breadth of 
 Europe. 
 
 The break of day found Europe under arms, the 
 aerial fleets on patrol, troops holding the towns. 
 The exchanges, banks, and provision stores were 
 attacked, the doors of them sealed and under guard 
 of sentries. No work could be done, no wage could 
 be earned, traffic ceased, the channels of news were 
 closed. The world-storm struck the East with a 
 fever, a raving delirium, the West with paralysis. In 
 Russia, Germany, and France there began from that 
 time a condition of living death, and afterwards in 
 many a muddy street guardsmen who visited Berlin, 
 saw crops of grass. 
 
 On that first day the storm went roaring by 
 leaving Europe shaken, and striking the coasts of 
 America in the full height of its fury. However 
 sound its finance, no nation can stand alone, and in 
 the general bankruptcy of all the world, the great 
 Republic fell. They say that the new metropolis 
 on Manhattan Island is even more stupendous than 
 that which was burned, but still in the negro states 
 of the Mississippi, the ploughs are driven through 
 fields of human bones, and some of the Mexican 
 silver mines are walled up for fear of pestilence. 
 
 It is curious to remember how quiet was London 
 on that first day of the Terror. Here was the calm 
 tract in the centre and vortex of the cyclone. 
 
 Wisely the Parliament had declared a Bank 
 Holiday. Places of business were closed, the traffic 
 had an easy holiday gait, the parks were thronged, 
 and even the public meetings were not stormy. 
 
126 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 In the fortified Palace our Lady's servants had 
 time to sleep after a hard night's work. Her Majesty 
 was not seen, Mr. Brand was supposed to be transact- 
 ing business in his office in the east front. Prince 
 Ali was a prisoner in the guard-room, charged with 
 treason. My Lord Sydney walked in the stable court 
 with Mr. Browne. Some rumours went about that 
 the captain of the Bodyguard, His Royal Highness 
 the Duke of Gloucester, had a letter from the 
 Dictator. Another rumour was spread that nearly 
 all Mr. Brand's ships had been captured. Lying 
 in various cities throughout the world, to receive 
 and discharge their cargo, more than a hundred of 
 these vessels had been arrested on behalf of the 
 Government. Still the yacht, Mary Rose, hung 
 glittering in the heavens like a star, and by 
 aerial telegraph kept the master in contact with 
 affairs. 
 
 Late in the afternoon a drenching shower of 
 rain burst over London, with one great ringing peal 
 of thunder. 
 
 Miss Temple would have us believe that this was 
 the last trumpet sounding the call to judgment. 
 
 The Russian papers were now in all men's hands 
 that they might consider her Majesty's quarrel, also 
 Brand's proposals were known, and how his gift 
 was withheld from reaching the people. And it was 
 well understood that the Parliament, in fighting 
 Brand, had caused all the money in the world to be 
 dishonoured, so that neither the currency of the 
 nations nor that of Lyonesse could be accepted as 
 any measure of value. The leaders of public opinion, 
 journals, clubs, societies, cities, fortresses, and 
 
THE WORLD-STORM 127 
 
 colonies throughout the Empire were hourly declaring 
 for the Queen. 
 
 The rich were on the Duke of Ulster's side, scout- 
 ing the idea that he had betrayed us to Russia. The 
 poor were with the Queen and Lyonesse. On the 
 whole the fleets and armies obeyed the departments 
 as usual ; but rather than attack our Lady, or 
 slaughter their countrymen, soldiers and sailors alike 
 were ripe for mutiny. 
 
 Ulster was innocent until his guilt was proved ; 
 the nation wanted, even for him, fair play, a trial at 
 law. We islanders are slow to kindle, and neither 
 party desired civil war. So the day closed. 
 
 But with the second day, all England knew that 
 trial at law was denied us, or even trial by battle. 
 The deadlock remained and was forgotten. For 
 how could any man remember that the Empire was 
 betrayed, or so much as think of internecine war 
 amid that beggary of the human Race ? That was 
 not to be salved by public holidays, or cured by 
 politics, or stayed by war. The first necessity of 
 life is food, and a merchant will not part with his 
 good provisions for any quantity of bogus money. 
 
 At first we were all quite confused, storming the 
 banking houses, which solemnly dealt out waste coin 
 and waste paper to hungry customers. Or we thought 
 to rescue our invested savings, and our stock- 
 brokers screamed themselves hoarse trying to sell 
 out shares in mines gone bankrupt, or the bonds of 
 governments already fallen. We had nothing to sell 
 but pieces of paper ; we got their exact value back in 
 scraps of paper. We began to understand that we 
 were ruined. 
 
128 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 There was no money. People came to the rail- 
 way stations offering jewels or watches to pay their 
 fares out of London. Then the trains stopped run- 
 ning, and they were rich who had yachts or carriages 
 to make their escape to the country. From noon on 
 the second day to the evening of the third, some 
 thirty hours, the main roads were crowded with 
 fugitives, and when some broken carriages blocked 
 the way, the lanes on either side were overrun. 
 Long afterwards the roads to the country were 
 littered with the wreckage of that flight, in wagons 
 overturned, in piles of broken furniture, in baggage 
 thrown away, and household treasures, or here and 
 there some shattered, trampled body of a man. 
 
 And the poor remained in London. 
 
 Now we had come face to face with the first law, 
 " Adapt yourselves or die." Some of us adapted 
 ourselves to the new conditions, but for those who 
 
 failed A few days later one began to notice a 
 
 faint, sickly smell in the streets, and when the air was 
 still, a thin, white mist hanging above the roofs. This 
 bred the pestilence. For there was famine such as 
 had never been known in human annals, famine 
 in the midst of a great abundance. 
 
 It must not be thought that there was any lack 
 of food either in London or the provinces. Brand 
 had seen to it. 
 
 At the beginning many families laid in stores of 
 victuals, filled their water tanks, fortified their 
 homes, and gallantly defended themselves by force 
 of arms. The big employers kept their servants 
 alive by daily issue of rations, and that long after 
 they suspended work. The Government issued free 
 
THE WORLD-STORM 129 
 
 rations for all those who were strong enough to fight 
 their way to the depots, and get off home again 
 without being killed. The farmers and fishermen 
 brought in supplies which they traded for works of 
 art and precious merchandise, for land and houses. 
 These men became very rich. 
 
 There was plenty of food, but after the Govern- 
 ment fell three-fifths of the whole supply was lost 
 by pillage and burning. The fire brigade was help- 
 less for lack of water ; the police and the troops 
 were withdrawn, dispersed, or massacred. 
 
 We were reduced to the strangest shifts and 
 expedients for money. Coins passed according to size 
 and weight, as pence, halfpence and farthings. Thus, 
 four sovereigns made an ounce, or penny, which 
 would buy a small roll of bread. Ounces of tobacco, 
 brass checks representing goods in storage, medals, 
 gems, blankets, were common tokens of barter. A 
 revolver cartridge would buy four ounces of meat. 
 
 We lacked one old resource of former troubles — 
 horseflesh. There were a few horses owned by rich 
 men ; but motor carriages did all the traction, and 
 one cannot eat dynamos. It was curious, too, that 
 panic of the naturalists concerning the Zoological 
 Gardens. Many of the animals condemned for soup — 
 the lions and tigers, for instance, were the last sur- 
 viving examples of species and orders now wholly 
 extinct. Thousands of starved Londoners protested 
 concerning the lions — the British Lions. 
 
 Twenty years have gone by since then, and God 
 has touched our hair with silver in token of the 
 eternal peace to come. And still in the deeps of 
 the night the memory breaks into our dreams, and 
 
 K 
 
130 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 lifts us broad awake with a scream of horror. Yet, 
 would we part with that dread remembrance ? No, 
 not for worlds ! 
 
 How sweet it is in memory once again, to walk 
 those old streets of the lost Capital, to see once more 
 the faces of that time, of men brought near to 
 Heaven in their pain, of women glorified by suffer- 
 ing, and little children waiting patiently for the end. 
 We never hoped to live, we rarely cared, for hope 
 was dead in many a smiling face. Fear was dead, 
 too ; there was nothing to be afraid of, except life. 
 Men spoke very gently when they met, women would 
 purse their lips and hurry on. One got so used and 
 inured to horrors that the environment of death was 
 no more to be thought of than the air we breathed. 
 
 One saw so many deeds of sacrifice, so many 
 saintly and heroic actions, that these made the 
 framework to one's thoughts of life. 
 
 So is the memory sweet of those embittered days 
 when, grim confused wars racked all the peoples of 
 the earth ; those days of famine, pillage, massacre, 
 of wasting pestilence, and flaming desolation. Heaven 
 and hell were opened, but men looked upward. 
 
XII 
 
 THE THIRD DAY 
 
 On the third day the Primate called the whole nation 
 to fasting, humiliation, and prayer. At St. Paul's 
 Cathedral the Litany was to be read ; and when the 
 great bell began to toll his minutes over the Capital 
 our Lady said she would attend that service. 
 
 For by this time the press had spoken in no 
 uncertain voice. A newspaper is, indeed, like a 
 lens, a burning glass condensing the thought of the 
 people into one clear flame of utterance. 
 
 The clear flame had fallen upon the Lord Pro- 
 tector and his Parliament, the nation waited for the 
 Queen to strike, and she did well to trust the poor 
 who loved her. 
 
 So, dressed in deep mourning, and attended only 
 by Miss Temple, our Lady drove out through the 
 gates in an open carriage. She would have no body- 
 guard, save in the protection of the mob. The 
 troops cheered as they opened their lines for her 
 passage, men came uncovered, and begged leave to 
 draw her carriage, and all through the streets she 
 was guarded by crowds of men with a great deal of 
 noise, but much besides of loving reverence. 
 
 An attempt to arrest our Lady would have led 
 to grievous trouble for the Government, for the 
 
 131 
 
132 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Dictator's writ had little meaning now, and for the 
 moment it seemed that his rule was come to an end. 
 Without attracting notice, Brand's yacht followed 
 Margaret to St. Paul's. 
 
 He sat alone in his office behind the darkened, 
 barricaded windows. A pocket aerograph clicked 
 on the desk before him, message after message 
 flashed down from the yacht by his secretaries, and 
 at times, with the little key throbbing under his 
 fmger, he sent instructions back. 
 
 Nearly all his ships were captured now, Lyonesse 
 had fallen, and yet he must wait, guarding the 
 sacred person of the Queen until the time was ripe, 
 until the nation called him to strike the Dictator 
 down. He must be ready when the moment came, 
 he must have the full support of the Imperial Fleets, 
 the Armies, the departments, the people's trusted 
 leaders, the functions of the whole administration. 
 The new Government must date from Ulster's fall, 
 leaving no instant of doubt, of anarchy, and, above 
 all, this must be Margaret's Government, no froth 
 upon the waves of revolution. There must be no 
 cry in the streets of Brand's Dictatorship, or any 
 mention of himself at all. His portion was with 
 the ships and factories. But it was hard to wait 
 while his ships were captured, his factories despoiled, 
 his good name marred by this reluctant, torturing, 
 agonizing silence. 
 
 He closed the instrument, and lying back in his 
 chair, remained in thought. These three days had 
 sprinkled his hair with silver, aged his strong face, 
 added to the rough power of the man something of 
 
THE THIRD DAY 
 
 JO 
 
 majesty, and there came into his eyes a light that 
 had never shown until he knew the Queen. The 
 vision of her arose before him now, her voice seemed 
 to ring through the quiet room, and his heart went 
 out to her in desire. 
 
 Who was he that he should dare to love this child 
 of mail-clad Kings, this mighty Empress in whose 
 august name the very skies were governed, and the 
 sea, and realms and continents of men within the 
 limits of the British Peace ? He was a commoner, 
 a tradesman, and yet no difference of rank or station, 
 of wealth or power, eminence, faith, enlightenment, 
 has ever set boundaries to human love. 'Tis the 
 man and the woman who mate, not their condition. 
 Had he not seen the evidence of love in Margaret's 
 face ? And to win her he must conquer the whole 
 w^orld. 
 
 But he was presently aroused from his enchant- 
 ment. Already some one had knocked at the door 
 unnoticed, and now, while with clasped hands he 
 sat before the table, and with uplifted eyes gazed 
 on his mental vision of the Queen, there was a visitor 
 standing within the room. Dimly aware of some im- 
 pending peril, Brand turned round to find a stranger 
 bowing apologies, a gentleman in civilian dress, yet 
 wearing a turban of banded green and gold, an 
 Oriental, haughty, yet in some queer way, servile. 
 " You are Prince Ali ? " he asked. 
 " At your service, yes." 
 " Escaped from the guard-room ? " 
 Prince Ali put a bolder face on his intrusion, 
 went to a chair by the wall, sat down and crossed 
 his legs. 
 
134 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Before you ring for my guards," he explained, 
 *' I have business with you." 
 
 Brand smiled at the man's audacity. 
 
 " Of course," — his Highness lighted a cigarette 
 — " you share our common sorrow at this grave 
 crisis ? " 
 
 " No, sir, we have nothing in common." 
 
 " I observe," the Prince laughed, " that the sea- 
 eagle wastes few regrets over a panic of guUs." 
 
 " Am I to be one of your eagles, or one of your 
 gulls, Prince AH ? " 
 
 " Of the gulls ? No." He shrugged his shoulder. 
 " You are King of the air, as I am of India ! " 
 
 " I supposed," said Brand, gravely, " that her 
 Majesty was Empress of India." 
 
 " Was Empress, yes. I see we understand one 
 another." 
 
 " I think, my dear Prince, that I follow your 
 meaning. So India finds her opportunity in this 
 crisis ? May I venture to ask if you speak on behalf 
 of Russia ? " 
 
 " I speak," said the other, haughtily, " for India. 
 I speak for the India which has waited ever since 
 
 1857." 
 
 " For a repetition of the artillery salutes fired by 
 
 the British in 1858 ? " 
 
 Ali's face darkened with sudden passion. " Your 
 tact, Mr. Brand, is most English. Yes, I have the 
 honour to speak for the India which has waited 
 since the artillery salutes of 1858." 
 
 " And how am I to serve you ? " 
 
 " I come, Mr. Brand, to the future Dictator of 
 the world, not to ask favours, but to confer them." 
 
THE THIRD DAY 135 
 
 " Indeed, you are too kind. Go on, sir." 
 
 " I must warn you first that Lyonesse has been 
 captured." 
 
 " You don't say so." 
 
 " Also that all your ships are taken, save two 
 which are homeward bound, and will be secured on 
 their arrival. Your yacht has gone to the city to 
 guard the ex-Queen. You are helpless in the hands 
 of your enemies. I have come to save you." 
 
 " Indeed." Brand reached forward across the 
 desk, and touched an electric bell. " How you 
 escaped from the guard, I don't quite know," he 
 said ; " I have rung to inquire." 
 
 '* Very good," Prince Ali laughed. " I was 
 released and sent here by the Lord Protector's agent, 
 the Duke of Gloucester." 
 
 " Really," said Brand, sarcastically ; " any 
 further revelations ? " 
 
 " Yes. The price which Ulster pays for your 
 body, the price he pays to Gloucester, is the throne 
 — the throne of the Empire ! " 
 
 " Anything more ? " 
 
 " At all hazards I came to warn you of this 
 trap, and you walk blindly into it. That bell 
 condemns you to death ! Quick, ' ' — Prince Ali started 
 to his feet — " there may be time. At the end of 
 this corridor there's a door to the upper terrace — 
 when your yacht comes back you can signal. I can 
 save you yet ! " 
 
 " Your price ? " 
 
 " India." 
 
 " Sit down. Prince Ali, sit down, I say ! Listen 
 to me," said the master, " you first betrayed poor 
 
136 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Ulster to the Russians. Then you betrayed tlie 
 Queen by this intrigue. Now you would betray the 
 Dictator to me — in order that you may betray your 
 sovereign again, by seizing India. I may have 
 lost my city, my lands and factories, my ships — 
 all that I had, and be here, helpless, at Ulster's 
 mercy." 
 
 He looked up at the windows with their loopholcd 
 barricades, swung round to face the door from which 
 there was no escape, then turned on Ali of Haidar. 
 
 " By the living God, I swear," he cried, " that 
 within a month I'll have you blown from your own 
 guns at the gates of Delhi ! " 
 
 Rising from his chair, he seized the aerograph 
 and signalled to his yacht for instant succour. 
 
 " Die, then ! " said the Prince ; " here's the death 
 of a dog for you ! " 
 
 He clapped his hands as though in the Eastern 
 manner calling a servant. Then the door swung 
 open and Gloucester, Captain of the Guard, strode 
 into the room. 
 
 He seemed astonished, this old, grizzled soldier — 
 over-astonished. 
 
 " Trooper Ali ! " 
 
 The trooper rose and saluted. 
 
 " Who let you out of the guard-room ? " 
 
 The trooper turned his slow gaze on Brand, and 
 Gloucester, following the direction of his eyes — 
 
 " Mr. Brand," he cried, " have you harboured 
 this prisoner ? " 
 
 Now, Brand was sitting with the aerograph upon 
 his knee signalling rapidly for help. Gloucester's 
 very presence was ignored by this commoner. 
 
THE THIRD DAY 137 
 
 "Mr. Brand!" He spoke imperativel3\ "Mr. 
 Brand ! " 
 
 The master glanced up with one eye. " Well," 
 he asked. " What's the matter with you ? " 
 
 " You forget yourself ! " 
 
 " Not at all. I observe that Prince Ali claps his 
 hands to call a servant. The servant appears, and 
 does well to stand awaiting my orders. You maj' 
 go." Brand dearly loved a fight. 
 
 The Duke flushed scarlet. " Sir, you insult me ! " 
 
 " If it is possible," said Brand. " Were you 
 listening outside, or did you wear felt slippers ? I 
 should have heard you in that paved corridor." 
 
 The Duke struck Brand across the face. The 
 American remained perfectly still in his seat, 
 laughing slightly, but otherwise unmoved. 
 
 " Thank you," he said ; " exactly what I wanted. 
 Shall it be swords or revolvers ? " 
 
 " This is ridiculous ; I cannot stoop to fight a 
 commoner." 
 
 " Your Royal Highness prefers to be publicly 
 thrashed ? " 
 
 " I am commandant of this fortress ! " 
 
 " Of course," said the master, quietly ; " so you 
 struck the Queen's guest." 
 
 " You are my prisoner ! " 
 
 " Well," Brand laughed, " that gets you off all 
 right — don't have to fight when you're frightened." 
 
 The Duke was beside himself with rage. " Now 
 you're trying to back out ! You shall fight me, sir ! 
 You shall fight ! " 
 
 Mr. Brand rose. " Then," he said, " name your 
 weapons." 
 
138 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 So Gloucester, instead of delivering Brand a 
 prisoner to the Lord Protector, must give the delay 
 and the courtesies of a duel. 
 
 But Prince Ali understood. " Allow me," he 
 said graciously ; " sir, as a witness to this quarrel, 
 may I venture " 
 
 " Well, what have you got to say ? " Gloucester 
 was on dangerous ground, and seeing the position, 
 the American intervened. " Look here, gentlemen, 
 this situation is too damned delicate for a plain 
 man. What passes between her Majesty's Com- 
 mandant and a prisoner charged with high treason 
 — well, I'm not a party to the conversation — so I'm 
 going to clear out." 
 
 Gloucester shrank back aghast, for he saw that 
 he had been entrapped again by his antagonist. 
 
 " As Mr. Brand remarks," said Prince Ali, with 
 a low bow, " we are both prisoners, and her Majesty's 
 command is that we must be delivered to Lord 
 Ulster." 
 
 Gloucester drew a deep breath of relief. " Sir," 
 — he faced Mr. Brand — " I shall be ready to meet 
 you when you are free to fight. For the 
 moment " 
 
 He strode to the door, and gave a rapid command 
 to his orderly, who was waiting in the corridor. 
 
 He turned back again into the room, leaving the 
 door wide open. 
 
 " I have summoned the main guard," he said. 
 " I shall deliver you prisoner to the Lord Pro- 
 tector." 
 
 At this moment a shadow darkened the room, 
 the light no longer streamed through the loopholes 
 
THE THIRD DAY 139 
 
 of the barricades. One would have thought that 
 a cloud had passed over the sun, but for a shrill 
 whistle sounding without, and a heavy clang of steel. 
 
 " Call the main guard," said the American, 
 derisively. 
 
 With a deafening crash the barricades which 
 filled the window fell down in splintered masses to 
 the floor. Outside lay the great steel hull of the 
 Mary Rose, the doors in her side flung open, her 
 gangway lowered upon the balcony. Upon the 
 gangway were a company of sailors grounding a 
 heavy beam, with which they had forced the window. 
 An officer brought them to the salute with drawn 
 cutlasses. 
 
 " Now, Duke," said Brand, " hand over your 
 sword." 
 
 But even while he spoke there came a rush of 
 men at the double, troopers of the guard, who pre- 
 sently formed up within the room. 
 
 " Surrender your yacht," cried Gloucester. " She 
 is commanded with machine guns from every salient 
 of the main front." 
 
 " At the first shot," said Brand, " I shall blow 
 up every cartridge in the Palace, and explode every 
 loaded gun. Call your Guardsmen to lay down their 
 carbines, lest they be blown to pieces." 
 
 Gloucester laughed at the threat, but Trooper 
 Lord Sydney stood forward at the salute. 
 
 " Sir, Mr. Brand speaks the truth. He released 
 me from gaol by this mysterious power of the 
 ship." 
 
 Through the silence which followed there came 
 a burst of cheering, the noise of a multitude of 
 
140 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 people who were attending her Majesty from St. 
 Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 "Your Royal Highness," said Brand; "you 
 found me closeted with Prince Ali. You charge mc 
 with treason against our Lady ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " To our Lad}', and to her onl}', will I jicld 
 mj'self prisoner." 
 
 The Duke flushed at the generosity which saved 
 him from exposure as Ulster's agent. He bowed in 
 assent and remained silent. 
 
 " If a man moves without my consent," said the 
 American, " I shall destroy the Palace. But you 
 may send one messenger to the Queen." 
 
 A messenger was sent, who presently came to 
 her Majesty, finding her hurt and angry that the 
 main guard should not be in attendance to give her 
 welcome. 
 
 But before she appeared, Mr. Brand walked to 
 the gangway of the yacht and in a low voice bade her 
 commander await further orders at Tower Hill. 
 Turning, he came back to his place in the middle of 
 the room. 
 
 Her Majesty stood in the doorway, and to her the 
 Duke of Gloucester made his accusation against the 
 Master of Lyonesse, telling how he had been found 
 in privacy with Prince Ali of Haidar, and how he had 
 resisted arrest until she came. 
 
 ]\Ir. Brand walked with bowed head to the 
 Queen, and kneeling upon one knee, looked up in her 
 face. 
 
 " My Queen," he murmured, his voice inaudible 
 to all but her. ."I am plotting to outwit a deeper 
 
THE THIRD DAY 141 
 
 treachery. Let me be prisoner here with a trusted 
 man to guard me until you can come to-night. Send 
 overtures to Ulster, and promise to hand me 
 over." 
 
 " How can I believe you ? " said the Queen, but 
 her speech lacked force. How could she even pretend 
 to distrust Brand now ! 
 
 " Oh, play the part," he whispered, " so much 
 depends," 
 
 " You have deceived me, I cannot trust 
 you." But her voice was only a murmur without 
 force. 
 
 " Oh, be stronger, be stronger," he pleaded, 
 seizing her hand. 
 
 " I will not hear another word," she cried. 
 
 " You shall, you shall." His voice rose high in 
 supplication. " You must hear me before it is too 
 late." 
 
 She drew back astonished, but could not find 
 another word to say. 
 
 " Oh, be brave, little Queen," he whispered, 
 passionately kissing her hand. 
 
 " Gloucester ! " Margaret called across the room ; 
 " hold Mr. Brand a prisoner here in this room. Let 
 nobody come near or speak to him. Put a trust- 
 worthy man here to guard him." 
 
 The Duke selected a man, his own orderly, but 
 the Queen looked from face to face until she saw one 
 that she fully trusted. 
 
 " Lancaster ! " 
 
 Tom of Lancaster stood forward at the salute. 
 
 " I place you on guard," said the Queen. 
 
 Then Mr. Brand went over to Lord Sydney. 
 
143 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Gloucester is disloyal," he whispered, " guard the 
 Queen." 
 
 Suddenly her Majesty gave a startled cry. " You 
 said Prince Ali was here with Mr. Brand. Where is 
 Prince Ali ? " 
 
 Under cover of the general confusion Prince Ali 
 had escaped from the Palace. 
 
XIII 
 
 THE queen's messenger 
 
 Mr. Brand was seated at the office desk, his hands 
 clasped before him as though in prayer. A sentry 
 paced slowly up and down in the corridor, another 
 trooper stood with carbine at support upon the 
 balcony. 
 
 Presently Mr. Brand rose, and walked slowly 
 across the room towards the window, whereupon his 
 warder turned with a startled gesture. The prisoner 
 saw that he was but a lad, shy and comely. 
 
 " Don't be uneasy," said Mr. Brand ; " I give you 
 my parole not to attempt escape." 
 
 " You'd better not," remarked the sentry ; " I'd 
 like the chance of a shot." 
 
 " Large game, eh ? " 
 
 " Rather ! " 
 
 " Don't you wish you were out there, fighting the 
 rioters ? " 
 
 " I don't fancy battues," drawled the trooper ; 
 " but you're game, and in season." 
 
 " The Palace seems quite unguarded now. All 
 the troops are gone." 
 
 " Two squadrons of the Guard are quite enough," 
 said the sentry, " even to hold John Brand." 
 
 " So you think I'm guilty." 
 
 M3 
 
144 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Yes. sir." 
 
 " Even before the trial ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Brand. But if you are 
 guilty I hope I'll be in the tiring party." 
 
 " It is good," said the prisoner, gravely ; " that 
 the Queen has loyal men. If the Queen finds me 
 guilty, I shall beg you may be one of the firing party." 
 
 " Thanks, awfully," said the sentry. " But if 
 you don't mind, I shall get into trouble if I'm caught 
 talking." 
 
 " One word more. May I know your name. In 
 case " 
 
 " Lancaster," said the sentry. 
 
 " Lancaster," muttered the prisoner, with a 
 slight lift of one eyebrow as he turned back towards 
 his chair. 
 
 " Would you like the window shut ? " 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Brand, and he fell to 
 thinking. 
 
 Midnight was striking when he was suddenly 
 aroused by the Queen's presence. The flutter of her 
 draperies, the scent of roses, the sight of her swift 
 grace caught at his senses. The piercing sweetness 
 of her seized at his heart, arrested his breath — and 
 then the touch of her hand upon his shoulder kept 
 him from rising. 
 
 " Is it true ? " she cried to him under her breath. 
 " Is it true ? Lord Sydney tells me that if you had 
 stayed in your yacht, gathered your ships, fought 
 
 the Fleet, hanged the Lord Protector " 
 
 " And been a traitor, eh ? " he continued, smiling. 
 
 " You could have conquered the world ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so." He rattled the handcuffs 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 145 
 
 which bound his wrists, and laughed. " Of course 
 I could — oh, any time these ten years past until I 
 became the Queen's prisoner. Conquered the world ? 
 What was the good of that ? " 
 
 " And you a prisoner ! " 
 
 Hurriedly she unlocked the handcuffs and released 
 him, then as he rose and stretched his cramped 
 arms — 
 
 " You are my world," he laughed. " A woman's 
 love is all the world to a man. Do you want the 
 earth ? I'll conquer that and lay it at your feet, if 
 you'll only let me feel the touch of your hand again. 
 And now you're angry ! You were just as angry 
 the first time we met, and the second time, and the 
 third — you looked most glorious of all that third 
 time ! Warn Margaret of danger and she gets furious, 
 the greater the peril the more royal her rage — the 
 fighting blood all roused before I can speak of peril. 
 What man ever had the courage of the Queen ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " she laughed, trying to rub away the 
 sudden flush with her white fingers. " Everything's 
 so different now. Tell me." 
 
 " The same rose, the same thorns — I daren't ! " 
 
 " Oh, please tell me." 
 
 " There's treason inside the Palace." 
 
 " Oh, surely not ! " 
 
 " The Lord Protector has bribed the Captain of 
 the Guard." 
 
 " Gloucester ? Impossible ! " 
 
 " He has been offered the throne." 
 
 " Oh, think of what you are saying ! My own 
 dear cousin, my friend." 
 
 " He released Prince Ali, sent him to trap me 
 
 L 
 
146 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 into some avowal of treason. He was actually 
 listening outside the door. He tried to hand me 
 over to Ulster." 
 
 " And that's why I found the main guard here in 
 this room. And Prince All's escape ! " Margaret 
 sank into a chair, her white lips drawn with pain. 
 " Guilty," she murmured. " Guilty ! Oh, thank 
 God that you are not condemned to this throne. The 
 lessons are so hard to learn — so hard ! The Queen 
 must never believe in anybody, she must never even 
 have a friend, she must be all alone in the world. 
 Yet," — she looked with troubled eyes at his face — 
 " I must believe in some one, or go mad. I cannot 
 bear this solitude, this lonely state, this majesty of 
 pain. I'm only a poor girl robbed of all I love." 
 
 His hand stole out and rested tenderly on hers. 
 " Poor child," he whispered. 
 
 " Yes, I was wrong," — her eyes were misty with 
 tears. " Yes, I believe in you, dear friend. When 
 you pray will you remember Margaret ? " 
 
 Oh, Hands of God, deal with her tenderly ! So 
 we prayed for Margaret in those days, when Hands 
 of white flame were burning the evil out of us all, 
 guiding us towards the end. One must be brave to 
 follow where God leads, patient to recognize Him in 
 our agony, faithful to know that pain is the Gate of 
 Heaven. 
 
 " I will remember Margaret," said Brand ; " and 
 if you need a friend, there is Sydney. You will trust 
 Sydney ? " 
 
 " Ulster's son ! " 
 
 " Yes," he said, thinking aloud. " I doubt if 
 there is another man now living who would come 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 147 
 
 stainless through a trial like his. To save his country 
 he sacrificed his own father, he threw away the repu- 
 tation of his house, his personal self-respect, his 
 wealth, his career, everything he valued, everything 
 he hoped for. He struck the first blow to save the 
 Empire — and I know how he counted the cost. The 
 events of this time will never be forgotten while the 
 earth lasts, and when our descendants want a new 
 proverb of manhood, they'll swear by Sydney's 
 honour." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear you speak like that," said 
 Margaret. 
 
 " And when I am gone you'll depend on him for 
 advice." 
 
 " When you have gone ! You're not going to 
 leave me ! " 
 
 " Yes. Your only danger is that j^ou shelter me. 
 The people are on your side, and Ulster dare not 
 attack you." 
 
 " He sent envoys to-day." The Queen looked 
 down at her foot, which made little lines to and fro. 
 " If I would only listen," she said, " to my loyal 
 advisers, the slanders against him could be easily 
 disproved. Public confidence would be restored. 
 Parliament would cancel the Act of Deposition, and 
 everything would be lovely, and please would I send 
 Mr. Brand away." 
 
 " You promised to hand me over as I said ? " 
 
 " Yes, as you said." 
 
 " You will be safe." 
 
 " But the Grand Duke Alexander has arrived. 
 He's in the Palace now. Oh, I'm so frightened. 
 Don't leave me to him ! " 
 
148 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Keep him in the Palace, Ulster will wait, hoping 
 for the Russian Alliance. Russia will wait, hoping 
 for the treaty. Keep them waiting, keep them 
 expectant, but sign nothing, promise nothing, and 
 fear nothing. I'm a prisoner for conspiracy with 
 Prince Ali. I escape, but that's not the fault of the 
 Queen. I make war with the Dictator, but he 
 cannot blame the Queen." 
 
 " Oh, don't leave me ! Don't desert me ! " 
 
 " If I stay here much longer there's no hope left. 
 Because I could not go out to fight him, he captured 
 Lyonesse and all my ships. He'll have the yacht 
 next." 
 
 " Take me away in the yacht." 
 
 " Then what becomes of the public confidence ? 
 The people would cry that you had deserted them ; 
 they would overwhelm the Government — then chaos ! 
 The Queen's place is here, setting an example of 
 unflinching courage to all her people." 
 
 " But can't you capture the Dictator, and seize 
 the Government now ? " 
 
 " With one yacht ? " 
 
 Margaret's eyes were dark with horror. " Too 
 late ! " 
 
 " Outside this room I am an outlaw and a fugitive, 
 hunted like a wolf. I dare not even call my yacht 
 lest the Queen should be compromised and attacked. 
 I must go to Tower Hill and signal the Mary 
 Rose." 
 
 " And you have lost everything in guarding me." 
 
 " What was there to fight for if the Queen were 
 lost ? I stayed until I could leave you secure. Now 
 I must fight." He took the aerograph from the 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 149 
 
 desk. " So far as I can see the Queen is safe, and 
 yet — I will leave you this instrument. If ever you 
 are in danger, release this key and touch it so — 
 three sharp strokes repeated again and again. The 
 signal shall be forwarded by my London agents, 
 and the answer will be four double strokes." 
 
 " And you will come ? " 
 
 " Instantly." 
 
 " Mr. Brand, I want to send Gloucester away. 
 He's dangerous." 
 
 " Then have him closely watched. Enemies are 
 invaluable, for their every movement is an index of 
 danger to be overcome. Send Gloucester awa3^ and 
 at once the enemy is warned of your policy. That 
 would be fatal." 
 
 " Forgive me, dear friend," — Margaret hid her 
 white face in her hands trying to stop the tears — " I 
 have been such a coward while you are so brave ! 
 Yes, I will stay as a woman always must, while the 
 men go out to fight." 
 
 " And after this," he said, wistfully ; " knowing 
 how weak I am for the Queen's defence, you will still 
 depend on me, still trust me ? " 
 
 She threw her head back, gazing upon him stead- 
 fastly for a minute, her eyes half closed. 
 
 " I must be a fool," she said, between tears and 
 a terrible broken-hearted laughter. " You came to 
 me and talked about things I don't understand, 
 can't understand, don't want to understand. I only 
 believe ! I was an Empress, you were Mr. Brand — 
 now you're the wind, and I'm a leaf in autumn. 
 Trust you ? Depend on you ? Yes, I do ! " Her 
 face became radiant, her ej^es full of light. '' You 
 
I50 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 serve me through disgrace and outlawry, you're 
 ruined like I am, fallen, a broken man, and yet 
 stronger, greater than ever, because nothing can 
 frighten you. Don't look at me — your eyes fascinate 
 
 me — I hardly know what I'm saying " she 
 
 reached out her arms to him. " I am become blind, 
 led only by your eyes. Go and save England ! " 
 
 The room was nearly dark, for only a small lamp 
 burned dimly on the desk, but now a great red glare 
 came in through the window space, and shone in 
 flickering radiance on the wall. Out of the distance 
 rose an awful murmur, the swelling volume of harsh- 
 throated riot, the crackle of musketry, the shouts 
 of men. 
 
 " Mr. Brand," said the Queen, " I dare not let 
 you go. The streets are dangerous, you never could 
 reach the Tower." 
 
 " I must go disguised." 
 
 " What disguise could save 370U ? Ah, yes — I 
 see — the officers of my Guard. They can go any 
 where ! " 
 
 " Give me a strong horse. Queen, and the uniform 
 of an officer of the Guard." 
 
 " An officer can't ride, Mr. Brand, without an 
 orderly." 
 
 " Give me that lad outside the window there. I 
 like him." 
 
 " My cousin, the Duke of Lancaster," said the 
 Queen. " You have chosen well. Bring him here, 
 Mr. Brand." 
 
 The American crossed the room, opened the 
 window, and summoned the sentry, who made his 
 salute to the Oueen. 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 151 
 
 " Tom," said our Lady, " do you love me ? " 
 
 He knelt and kissed her hand. " Quick, Tom," 
 said the Queen. " Order two horses, the best we 
 have, and bring an officer's harness for Mr. Brand, 
 use this," — she gave him her signet ring. " Take 
 brevet rank as subaltern, and if you live, I'll con- 
 lirm it. Now run ! " 
 
 His Royal Highness looked sideways at the 
 American, then sideways at the Queen, then, with a 
 malicious understanding chuckle, was gone like a 
 flash. 
 
 The Queen sat thinking. " There is danger still," 
 she said presently. " The destroyers are patrolling 
 everywhere, and your yacht on her way to the Tower 
 w^as chased by the Channel Fleet just come from 
 Portsmouth. Instead of running, she rose up high, 
 soaring miles into the air. The Fleet could not 
 follow because no man could breathe up yonder. 
 But they say the yacht must come down, so they have 
 scattered out to watch. Must she come down ? " 
 
 " Not till I want her." 
 
 " What are your plans ? " she asked presently. 
 
 " To get the yacht," he answered, " bring the 
 Fleet to terms, recapture Lyonesse, collect my 
 squadron, find my Ministers of State, and weld them 
 into a strong Cabinet. Then I hope to hang Ulster, 
 seize the departments, set up the Queen's pro- 
 visional Government, call a General Election, and 
 declare war with the Allies. Meanwhile the Queen 
 must keep our enemies amused." 
 
 " But if you die in the Queen's service ? " 
 
 He laughed. " They'll throw my body into a 
 ditch and cry, ' So perish all the Queen's enemies \ ' " 
 
152 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Turning to the table she wrote upon a slip of 
 paper — 
 
 " The bearer is my Messenger. 
 
 " Margaret R.I." 
 
 " Kneel," she said, gravely, and he bent his knee 
 to the ground. " This is a token of our love and 
 trust." 
 
 He glanced at the paper. " I can't take that, 
 dear Queen. It might compromise you ; it's too 
 dangerous." He would have risen. 
 
 " No, don't get up yet." 
 
 The Duke of Lancaster had come in bearing a suit 
 of armour and a cloak. 
 
 " Give me your sword, Tom." 
 
 The soldier bent his knee and presented the hilt. 
 
 " Now," she stood up waving the sword lightly 
 above the master's head, " will you be my true 
 knight ? " 
 
 The master sank down on both knees, and lifted 
 up his clasped hands. 
 
 " Rise," cried the Queen, striking the accolade 
 on his shoulder. " You are too great for any poor 
 titles or dignities of my chivalry, but be my friend, 
 Mr. Brand, and put on the harness of my knights. 
 Staunch champion," her voice broke, " true, loyal 
 friend, there's nothing left for the Queen to do but 
 pray. God save you this wild night, God save and 
 keep you in this fearful war." 
 
 He kissed her outstretched hand. " Good-bye, 
 my Queen." 
 
 " Good-bye, my champion. Good-bye until we 
 meet in happier times." 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 153 
 
 And so she swept from the room, and the Guards- 
 man in the corridor who followed at her signal saw 
 that the Queen was crying. 
 
 Lancaster served Mr. Brand as squire, assisting 
 him while he changed his civilian clothes for the gold 
 harness and scarlet cloak of an officer of the Guard, 
 the only dress which would give him even a moderate 
 degree of safety in the streets of the town. Brand 
 made not the least pretence to a military bearing, 
 but he was an athlete in habit, and the harness fitted 
 him well. He was thinking too intently to be 
 awkward or self-conscious in disguise, and when at 
 last the trooper brought a big, black stallion into 
 the courtyard, he swung into the saddle with the 
 ease of a horseman. The Prince was less suspicious 
 at the sight of horsemanship. 
 
 " Now can you get me a strong lantern ? " 
 
 Lord Lancaster ran into the Palace, and for a 
 minute the master sat curbing the black stallion, 
 who danced polka movements, uneasy at the delay. 
 
 Just before Lord Lancaster came back, a window 
 opened far up in the courtyard wall. Then a white 
 handkerchief fluttered softly down like a snowflake. 
 The master rode forward and caught and fastened 
 it to the front of his helmet. 
 
 " Are you ready, sir ? " cried Lancaster. 
 
 " God save the Queen," said Brand, and they 
 rode out under the archway. 
 
 The Queen's ring passed them through the gates, 
 and breaking into a canter side by side, the horsemen 
 swung round the east wing out into the Mall. 
 
 The clocks were striking two as they traversed 
 the spacious avenue, now dark and silent. 
 
154 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Do you still want to shoot me, sir ? " asked 
 Brand. 
 
 " Drop that ' sir '," answered the young Prince. 
 " It sounds absurd from you. Call me Lancaster. 
 Forget that nonsense I talked. She trusts you. 
 That's good enough for me." 
 
 Abreast of Marlborough House the horses shied 
 violently passing the body of a murdered woman. 
 She lay in her white evening dress, her fair face 
 streaked with blood, and the jewels had been 
 wrenched from her hair and neck. 
 
 " That's Mrs. Osbourne," said the trooper, bending 
 down ; "I knew her, poor soul." 
 
 Just beyond stood her carriage, the chauffeur 
 murdered in his seat, and close beside in the gutter 
 lay some poor rioter who had ceased to starve. 
 
 They rode on in silence to the end of that moon- 
 lit solitude, and were passing the north edge of the 
 Horse Guards Parade, still under the spell of horror, 
 when a cloud passed across the moon. 
 
 " What's that ? " cried Lancaster. 
 
 Brand looked up, relieved at any interruption to 
 his thoughts. " Only a destroyer cruising — on 
 patrol, I suppose, to keep order." 
 
 " Unless," said the trooper, " we're followed." 
 
 " An ofticer and a trooper of the Guard — non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 " Unless Prince Ali " 
 
 " I see. He would warn the Government to 
 expect my escape. So. This destroyer may think 
 we're chasing Mr. Brand to Tower Hill." 
 
 " She's following, anyway." 
 
 " We'll have to call her presently to help 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 155 
 
 us." The master laughed, drawing his cloak about 
 him. 
 
 They were in Trafalgar Square now, skirting the 
 edge of a crowd of starving trades unionists, who 
 were easing their feelings with a Republican demon- 
 stration, London never dared to sleep in those first 
 nights of the peril. 
 
 " I wonder," said the master, as they rode past, 
 " will history blame me for that — thing — back there 
 in the Mall ? " His lips were quivering. " Will 
 history make me the murderer ? " 
 
 " That depends," answered Lancaster, " on what 
 history has to tell of the war that's coming. I wouldn't 
 like to be your ghost if the thing's a failure." 
 
 " And if it succeeds, Lancaster, will they make 
 a picture of me among the conquerors, with Alex- 
 ander, Semiramis, Tamerlane, the Mogul, Napoleon — 
 riding through a lane of stark corpses, and millions 
 and millions of the accusing dead ? " 
 
 " Wouldn't you rather be there than in a pro- 
 cession to the gallows ? " 
 
 "I'd rather have the gallows, Lancaster." 
 
 The Strand was in darkness, and every theatre 
 was closed. Here and there stood cars, derelict 
 because the drivers had struck. The public houses 
 had been closed by order. Only the churches were 
 open, for although they could not be lighted, great 
 congregations gathered in these nights, for rest and 
 consolation. Indeed, for that relief, even delicate 
 women and children were willing to leave their 
 lightless, desolate homes, and face the risk of being 
 robbed or murdered in the by-ways. 
 
 The police patrolled in companies, while now 
 
156 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 and again came the tramp of marching men, volun- 
 teers or special constables, called out to confront 
 some distant riot ; but no man went abroad unarmed, 
 and few women except under escort. There were 
 not less than forty thousand criminals at large in 
 London, furtive as yet, rather than violent, stealing 
 enough food to prosper, while daily the desperation 
 of the poor added to their numbers, and their leaders 
 grew more powerful and more reckless. 
 
 In silence Brand and Lancaster rode on, turning 
 now and again to watch the aerial destroyer, which, 
 beating to and fro in short slants, was evidently 
 keeping watch on their movements. The moon 
 caught her gleaming aeroplanes at every ratch. At 
 any moment she might call out with a request for 
 instnictions. Perhaps some doubt restrained her 
 lest these men were not Guardsmen, but fugitives 
 despite their horses and their harness. But, how- 
 ever carefully she might have watched for the master 
 of Lyonesse, however certain it might be that he 
 would head for a rendezvous with the j-acht, a 
 mistake would endanger the new compact between 
 Queen and Government. Her Majesty's gentlemen 
 of the Guard could not be insulted with impunit}'. 
 
 " Shall we gallop ? " asked Lancaster. 
 
 " No, slower if anything or they'll think we're 
 running away." 
 
 So reining to a trot, they went along the Fleet 
 Viaduct, with a passing glance at some sudden riot 
 running wild down in Farringdon Street. They 
 skirted the south side of St. Paul's, and traversed 
 Cannon Street. But then, instead of turning off 
 towards London Bridge, they plunged down the hill 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 157 
 
 by the Monument into the cobbled alley of Lower 
 Thames Street. The destroyer must have seen that 
 they were actually bound for the Tower, for now she 
 whistled thrice. 
 
 " They think we're chasing Brand ! " cried 
 Lancaster, and waving his arm signalled the destroyer 
 to follow. 
 
 Ahead by the Billingsgate Market lay a fish van 
 overturned, entirely blocking the thoroughfares. 
 So they plunged up hill among lanes and alleys, 
 passing over the body of a murdered policeman, 
 until they emerged by an old church where the 
 congregation was singing the Litany, and came out 
 upon the open space of Tower Hill. 
 
 " Give me the lantern," said Brand, as they 
 swept down towards the Tower Gate at a gallop. 
 " I'm going to signal my yacht." 
 
 " Then the destroyer will fire — she's close be- 
 hind ! " 
 
 " We must take the risk." 
 
 He drew rein, and flashed the strong light thrice 
 across the sky. 
 
 The destroyer fired a warning shot, but again 
 Mr. Brand flashed the signal, and presently yet again. 
 
 " By George ! " muttered Lancaster. " We're 
 done for now ! " 
 
 " Lancaster," said the master, " is there any 
 officer of the Guard at all like me in appearance ? " 
 
 " There's Captain Talbot, his gear exactly fits 
 you." 
 
 " Good. The destroyer will steer close down 
 now. Ride up to her, say Captain Talbot sends 
 you, that Brand's at the Palace, and we've used his 
 
158 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 secret signal to lure the yacht. The destroyer's to 
 wait out of sight until Captain Talbot gives orders 
 to attack." 
 
 The trooper dashed away up the slope. 
 
 " When I raise my hand," the master shouted 
 after him, " ride straight for my yacht." 
 
 The warship was slanting down, she sheered 
 barely clear of the housetops, and then hung poised 
 above the trees by the Tower moat. 
 
 And now drawing rein after a furious gallop, the 
 trooper faced the suspended warship, so close that 
 his horse reared up in terror. 
 
 " Captain Talbot's compliments," he yelled. 
 " Help us to capture Brand's yacht. Lie low and 
 wait ! " 
 
 " Where's Mr. Brand ? " cried the destroyer 
 circling round the terrified horse like an eagle 
 round a mosquito, the faintest airs from the river 
 just whispering under her aeroplanes, and barely 
 strong enough to give her steerage way. 
 
 " Brand is in chains at the Palace ! " the trooper 
 yelled so that his voice broke in a wail. " Lie low 
 and help us, we're luring the yacht down with 
 Brand's private signal. Captain Talbot will give the 
 order to fire ! " 
 
 But now the destroyer was so low between the 
 buildings that she lost the air and grounded. It 
 would take her three minutes to rise clear again 
 from the earth, and meanwhile she lay helpless on her 
 keel springs. 
 
 " Can't you put out those lights ? " yelled the 
 trooper. He was jubilant, for he had put the 
 destroyer out of action. 
 
THE QUEEN'S MESSENGER 159 
 
 Nobody knows what the destroyer thought, back 
 there behind the trees of the moat enclosure, but the 
 Captain of the Mary Rose spoke afterwards as to 
 the descent of the yacht. She had been at a height 
 of five miles in the air when the electric lantern 
 flashed the summons upwards. At the signal she 
 simply dropped like a stone. The air roared round 
 her like the deepening blast of a furnace ; the friction 
 of the wind was actually making her sides red hot 
 when she slowed to a speed of ninety miles an hour. 
 
 She saw the lurking destroyer, she saw the whole 
 starboard division of the British Fleet swoop down 
 out of the north, and knew that not a ship would 
 care to fire for fear of a resulting explosion which 
 would wreck the Tower of London. 
 
 She saw the solitary horseman flashing the 
 lantern signal again and again. She knew that she 
 might be trapped to destruction, yet grudged the 
 brakes which in the last two miles of air must be 
 clapped on full to prevent her being dashed to pieces 
 on Tower Hill. Down she fell like a meteor out of 
 heaven, slowed, jarred her brake, jumped on the 
 sharp recoil a hundred feet, then gently lowered her 
 torpedo-shaped steel hull until with a feathery light- 
 ness she touched the pavement, and sent her draw- 
 bridge gangway clanging down. 
 
 Already the destroyer, alert for action, rose 
 from behind the trees, flashed out her vivid search- 
 light upon the yacht, and in that glare confirmed 
 her worst suspicions. His golden harness glowing, 
 his black horse rearing and fighting the air, Brand 
 lifted his arm as though to stay the destroyer's fire 
 from blasting him. 
 
i6o THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Lancaster, obedient to the signal, spurred down 
 the hill at full gallop. He reached the gangway, 
 charged straight up the slope, and crouching down 
 rode in through the open port. 
 
 Even before the master could follow, the destroyer 
 lashed out with her machine guns. 
 
 For a moment the yacht was lost to sight in a 
 cloud of fire and steel, but in the very midst of it, 
 Lancaster ran down the slope of the gangwa}', 
 wrenched Brand from under his dying horse, and 
 dragged him back into shelter. As the yacht's 
 gangway crashed home the destroyer passed over- 
 head launching torpedoes. 
 
 The Mary Rose swung as she lifted, crashing 
 right through the destroyer's fragile hull. The 
 magazine exploded into the great hydrogen cylinder 
 above ; but Brand's yacht went on unscathed 
 through a sphere of flame, on into space, with 
 wreckage and mangled bodies streaming behind 
 her. 
 
XIV 
 
 THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 
 
 It is time now to tell the story of the ships, the 
 genealogy of the Mary Rose, the secret of Brand's 
 aerial wars, and how the great outlaw gained 
 command of the air. 
 
 Down through the ages sweeps that Pageant of 
 the Ships, with oar, sail, steam, electric, etheric 
 power, cleaving the centuries since the world was 
 young. 
 
 First come the oared Long Ships, the slave- 
 manned galleys, the argosies of the Phoenicians, the 
 Greeks, of Carthage, Rome, Byzantium, of Barbary, 
 Norway, Venice, Genoa, Spain, They are human- 
 wielded, sea-compelling engines. 
 
 Then come the Great Ships, the device of Henry 
 VIII. They shattered the galleons of Spain, they 
 wrecked the Dutch Republic, destroyed the Empire 
 of France, gave Britain the command of the sea. 
 They explored the planet, they created the greater 
 commerce. They come under sail, they need no 
 slave-engines, these white-winged servants of the 
 winds, winged conquerors of all seas. 
 
 Then come the iron ships which laid the cables, 
 peopled the lands, and narrowed down the world 
 into a house for man ; the steel ships, smoke-maned 
 
 i6i M 
 
i62 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 conquerors of both wind and sea, not man-driven 
 galleys, but steam-driven carriers, racing cities, and 
 cruising fortresses. 
 
 They drove the white sails from the face of the 
 sea, drove them to refuge in the skies. And so 
 sweeps the majestic pageant of the ships into the 
 golden age of seamanship. " There shall be no more 
 sea," for man has taken wings to cleave the air. 
 Poised on broad aeroplanes, alive with power flashed 
 to them through space, the aerial battleships have 
 claimed the very pathways of the eagles. Rolling 
 down the cloud-seas come the snow-white, glittering 
 giants of the electric age, England's dread Channel 
 Fleet, surely the last supreme achievement of 
 mankind. 
 
 And far aloft, attended by white cirrii, hangs one 
 small star-like speck in the blue zenith, an unarmed 
 private yacht offering to meet the entire navy of 
 Britain and all the fleets of Europe in single 
 combat. 
 
 There is a legend of John Brand I., that wander- 
 ing on the moors by the Lands End, he came upon 
 a dark and silent pool. Being in an idle mood he sat 
 beside the bank throwing pebbles, and watched the 
 little ripples spread away over still water. So the 
 thought came to him of those small innumerable 
 waves which constantly spread away from the earth's 
 centre, the waves of gravitation. 
 
 Thinking profoundly he took a pebble in his 
 hand. What mighty chord of the celestial music 
 thrilled in that stone pulling it down to the earth ? 
 What was its chord of mass — how many millions of 
 waves to the second ? Perhaps a million vibrations. 
 
THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 163 
 
 Suppose then he made an engine which would sound 
 that note exactly. The stone would fall off the 
 planet, be whirled into space ! 
 
 Could he build a ship to carry such an engine, 
 strike the great chord, and hurl the vessel off among 
 the stars ? Could he arrest its flight, create the ship 
 into a planet, free from the earth, and driven at his 
 will within the limits of the atmosphere ? 
 
 A pebble thrown into still waters, a thought 
 thrown from Heaven into a clear mind, and ripples 
 spreading down through history ! We all know how 
 Brand I. built the etheric ship, fighting his way 
 through the long silent years of galling poverty and 
 majestic thought. He was a lad when he threw the 
 pebble, an old man when he set the engines in motion, 
 sounded the chord of mass at last, lifted the ship from 
 the earth — then failed to arrest its motion. In that 
 strange sepulchre his body rests, wandering down the 
 starways, lost in the depths of space, lighted by 
 blazing suns, threading the constellations for ever 
 and ever. 
 
 John Brand II., the builder of Lyonesse, was more 
 daring than his father, and always more practical. 
 His etheric ship, Mars, was brought under perfect 
 control, and with Lock's propellor developed un- 
 dreamed-of speed. 
 
 The Mars had a quality of attracting dust, draw- 
 ing raindrops after her, and even small birds. Pebbles 
 thrown from her port-holes would not fall, but 
 followed in the wake as satellites. Her compass 
 needle pointed fore and aft indifferent to the magne- 
 tism of the earth. About her hull strange wander- 
 ing fires flickered and gleamed at night, and in the 
 
i64 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 cloud-fields as she passed above them, dull thunders 
 muttered, with tremulous lightnings. 
 
 It was an attempt upon his life by anarchists 
 which drove Mr. Brand II. to the idea of defence. 
 Like the stone spreading ripples on still waters, his 
 engines of the Mars could send out waves into the 
 ether. He surrounded the ship with a small sphere 
 of electric ripples, and high explosives are so sensitive 
 to these vibrations that no shell or torpedo could 
 enter this field of tension without being instantly 
 disturbed. So the Mars was clothed with an electric 
 armour, and the steel planet became invulnerable. 
 And she could attack, projecting her electric waves 
 ten miles through space to explode the cartridges 
 carried by hostile troops, the ammunition of attack- 
 ing field guns, the magazines of fortresses and 
 ships. 
 
 John Brand II. sent out his fleet as he sent out 
 his gold to serve mankind in the quiet channels of 
 commerce. The engineers and captains of Lyonesse 
 grew old in his service, and never knew the secret 
 of the ships, their fearful powers as applied to war. 
 John Brand III. reigned in his father's stead, and 
 still the planets served as merchantmen, and the 
 lightnings slept in their engines. No man had 
 ever seen etheric power in action, no man, 
 save Brand, could wield the destroying flame. 
 And now the Channel Fleet had ordered him to 
 surrender. 
 
 His planet of forged steel lay resting. Ice 
 glistened on her flanks from frosty sprays of cirrii 
 streaming past her. Beneath were the labouring 
 battleships, the white seas of cloud, and the 
 
THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 165 
 
 newly risen sun blazed red in the east. Above her 
 the stars in millions thronged the black deeps of 
 Heaven. 
 
 A message flashed down to the flagship instru- 
 ments. " Come up and fight me," said the Mary 
 Rose. 
 
 The flagship answered angrily — " Come down ! " 
 
 No man on an open deck could breathe the atmos- 
 phere up yonder where that steel fleck hung in the 
 blue of Heaven, no aeroplanes could find supporting 
 air, no gun could be discharged, no missile fired — 
 and who could dare the awful cold of Space ! 
 
 " I will come down," said the Mary Rose. 
 
 Like a meteor she fell until she touched the surf 
 of the white cloud sea, and there lay gently rolling, 
 half submerged, a spindle-shaped bolt of lustrous 
 pearly grey, almost invisible. Every available 
 weapon in the Fleet was trained upon her broadside. 
 She sent another message by aerial telegraph to the 
 flagship. 
 
 " I have led you out over the Channel so that 
 no harm can be done by a rain of shells. To make 
 myself a better target I shall come within point- 
 blank range." The yacht took up a new position. 
 "Fire! " 
 
 " I give you a minute to surrender," replied the 
 flagship. '' Is there any need for bloodshed ? Yield, 
 or I must sink you." 
 
 " Thanks. I am in perfect safety. Fire ! " 
 
 A ten-inch projectile launched from the flagship 
 exploded midway upon its course. 
 
 " Try a torpedo," said the yacht. 
 
 The weapon which would have destroyed a town 
 
i66 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 flew out from the flagship's bows, and was scarcely 
 clear of the fleet before it was blown to pieces. 
 
 Then the whole fleet attacked, and for some 
 minutes the yacht was lost to sight in the red 
 hurricane of bursting shells. When the air cleared, 
 the echoes still thundered among the clouds, 
 and the yacht rolled violently on huge waves of 
 air. 
 
 No fortress on earth could have outlived that 
 close bombardment, yet she existed still, and ruth- 
 fully the Admiral sent word asking if there were 
 any survivors. 
 
 " I am coming," said the yacht, " to take 
 position alongside the flagship. I intend no hostfle 
 action, but if a single shot is fired, in self-defence I 
 shall destroy the Fleet." 
 
 In bitter humiliation the Admiral waited, stand- 
 ing in the icy wind on the deck of his flagship. 
 Never before had a British Fleet been captured, 
 never one of our admirals humbled to the point of 
 surrender, and death would have been easier to 
 meet. 
 
 This steel thunderbolt could outstrip the swiftest 
 cruisers then afloat, could ram the fragile aerial 
 battleships, and was herself impregnable. The Fleet 
 was at her mercy, and the navies of the world were 
 obsolete. 
 
 She advanced quite slowly, swung on her own 
 length, lay alongside of the Devastation, and flung 
 her gangway on the quarter-deck. 
 
 Then came Brand's messenger, a prince of the 
 blood royal, the Duke of Lancaster, clothed in the 
 Queen's armour, bearing her Majesty's signet. 
 
THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 167 
 
 claiming no victory, enforcing no indignities, but 
 with a salute to the white ensign, and a salute to the 
 Admiral of the Fleet, paying the honours of war to 
 a fallen power. 
 
 At the gangway Brand made the Admiral 
 welcome. 
 
 * iN H: 4: 4: 
 
 A tremor went through the Mary Rose as on the 
 Admiral's departure the starboard gangway clanged 
 home against her side. 
 
 Brand entered the conning tower, " Stand 
 by," he said. " Dead slow — five to starboard — 
 ahead." 
 
 " All clear, sir," answered Captain Simpson, his 
 hands on the levers. 
 
 " Steady ! Rise." 
 
 The yacht rose gently, while the Channel Fleet 
 fell away beneath her. Brand sat down in the chair 
 beside the Captain, watching the indicator until 
 the needle gauged thirty thousand feet. 
 
 " Way enough," he said. " Quarter speed ahead, 
 west by north, half north." 
 
 " West by north, half north." 
 
 " Full speed ahead." 
 
 " Full speed it is." Captain Simpson leaned 
 back with a sigh of relief, then glanced up sideways 
 at the master's face. 
 
 " Light your pipe," said Brand. 
 
 " Thank you, sir — Great Death ! you thrashed 
 the Fleet ! " 
 
 " I've done more," the master sighed. " I've 
 broken a man's heart. Poor Rothschild ! " 
 
 " Was that the Jew admiral ? " 
 
1 68 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " A great gentleman," said Brand. " Are you 
 sure, Simpson, that you can remember that formula 
 for explosives ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Tell your ship's company that I don't ask 
 them to face war risks on peace wages. The 
 pay and pension rates are doubled from the first 
 of this month." The captain started to his 
 feet. " There, go away and take an hour's 
 rest." 
 
 The captain grabbedj Brand's shoulder from 
 behind. " A warning, sir. The Dictator tried to 
 bribe me, and he's bought nearly all your skippers. 
 Don't let them know that new formula." 
 
 Brand turned round and shook hands with him. 
 
 " Get below," he said, " and, by the way, tell 
 somebody to ask His Royal Highness to join me 
 here." 
 
 The captain rolled away down the ladder. 
 " Thrashed the Fleet," he muttered, " thrashed the 
 whole Fleet ! Great Death ! " 
 
 Brand was alone now, and for some minutes 
 paced restlessly the small domed room with its 
 glass vault and walls. The sun was high in the black, 
 star-strewn heavens, the cloud-sea vanished into the 
 heat of the day. Beneath rolled the blue Channel, 
 and on either side the land went up to meet an 
 immense horizon. Broad on the port beam lay the 
 coast of France, beyond on the port bow the wide 
 Atlantic loomed. There on the starboard side was 
 the English land from Beachy Head, faint glimmer- 
 ing in the east, even to the Start in far-off Devon- 
 shire. At his very feet lay the green Isle of Wight 
 
THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 169 
 
 masking a skein of intricate blue waters. There 
 was Portsmouth, yonder Southampton, and north- 
 ward SaHsbury and Winchester, a score of cities, a 
 thousand villages and farmsteads, where as the 
 green melted away to blue, range beyond range 
 of gently rolling downs, mist upon mist of 
 exquisite rounded hills, up to the very stars of 
 eternal night. And all the land must perish if he 
 failed ! 
 
 Someone was coming up the ladder, and presently 
 Brand, turning away from the glass, encountered 
 Lancaster. 
 
 The Prince saluted him, but Brand came forward, 
 laying both hands upon his shoulders. 
 
 " My boy," he said, " where would you like to 
 land ? " 
 
 " Where you land, sir," 
 
 " I'd like to be sure of your safety, Lancaster, 
 and I want to put you ashore." 
 
 " I'll see you damned first ! " 
 
 Brand looked into his keen, fresh, comely face. 
 
 " You're most wonderfully like her," he said, 
 absently ; " and there's no bending her. I suppose 
 you'll stay whether I like it or not. I've got to 
 recapture Lyonesse." 
 
 " I want to see the game." 
 
 " Lancaster, you know my three big passenger 
 boats ? " 
 
 " The Coronation, Grace a Dieu, and Gigantic? 
 Yes, of course. I came from New York in the 
 Gigantic once — did it in sixteen hours. Why, 
 there's room for this yacht in her after-cabin." 
 
 " The Gigantic was in dock when Lyonesse 
 
170 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 was captured ; but Admiral Rothschild tells me that 
 she is afloat since yesterday, guarding the town 
 against me. She is in charge of a naval officer, 
 with orders to ram at sight." 
 
 " But you thrashed the Imperial Navy ! " 
 
 " The Gigantic carries no explosives. So far 
 as I see, I can't ram her, I can't blow her up, and 
 she's so swift that I can't even run away. I've 
 decided to set every man ashore who is not absolutely 
 needed. Lancaster, you must go." 
 
 " Sir," answered Lancaster, hotly, " I'm here for 
 the Queen, and I refuse to land." 
 
 " As you will." 
 
 A few minutes later the Mary Rose set aU her 
 idlers ashore in Devonshire. When she took flight 
 again Brand and his captain returned to their seats 
 in the conning-tower, and Lancaster stood behind 
 them, with a life line to steady him during the coming 
 fight. Together they watched the narrowing land 
 beneath, as Cornwall tapered westward between 
 the seas. 
 
 No clouds sailed in the clear sky to mask an 
 attack. 
 
 " Wait for the night, sir," ventured Captain 
 Simpson. 
 
 " Until the Gigantic is warned." 
 
 " You're right, sir. Could you move down with 
 the sun behind you ? The yacht would be difficult 
 to see." 
 
 " This cupola would shine against the sun. I 
 wish we could make ourselves invisible." 
 
 " I think," he added, " the Gigafitic will be lying 
 with her head towards London, and if we keep 
 
THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 171 
 
 on this course her look-out can't fail to sight us. 
 That would be awkward, so put her hard a-port, 
 and set her course nor '-west." 
 
 The yacht swung rapidly and steadied. 
 
 " Nor'-west it is, sir." 
 
 " We'll come down from the north," said Brand ; 
 " we should sight her broadside at thirty or forty 
 miles." 
 
 " Good," cried the captain, " she'll hardly see 
 us at live miles." 
 
 Not a word more was spoken until the coast of 
 Ireland loomed ahead. 
 
 " Hard a-starboard." 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir." 
 
 The yacht heeled over as she swung. 
 
 " South ! " 
 
 The yacht came to an even keel, swung a point 
 or two back, and steadied. 
 
 " South it is." 
 
 Far up against the sun a distant film of land 
 blurred the horizon. 
 
 " Starboard a little ; a little more ; keep her 
 at that." 
 
 Brand shipped a powerful telescope on slings and 
 focussed the Lands End. There in a trembling 
 mirage the granite city lay, the long glass roofs of 
 her factories gleaming like silver scales. 
 
 " Half speed," he murmured ; then, as the vessel 
 steadied : " There's the Gigantic — broadside on — 
 starboard a very little — too much — so. Keep her 
 at that. She must be very low down — scarcely a 
 mile above the roofs. She'll see us against the sky, 
 so drop to ten thousand feet, Mr. Simpson." 
 
1/2 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The Mary Rose fell for a minute or so. 
 
 " Ten thousand, sir." 
 
 " Drop another mile — there — she's below the 
 horizon now. Full speed ahead." 
 
 The sough of the dense air against the yacht's 
 hull rose to a deafening roar. The heat in the 
 cupola became intense, and had to be modified with 
 a spray of liquid air. Brand returned to the 
 telescope. 
 
 " There she is," he shouted. " Til try to ram 
 her propeller — watch my hand and steer as I beckon 
 — she hasn't sighted us — couple on the auxiliary 
 engines — all the speed you've got. Her hull makes 
 such a blinding glare in the sun — I can scarcely 
 see. Rise one hundred feet — ten more feet — stand 
 by to ram — five down — she's moving ! Starboard ! 
 Starboard ! She's turning to ram — starboard more 
 — more — ^more ! Missed, by God ! 
 
 Brand dashed across to the after windows. 
 " Rise ! " he yelled. " Rise, full speed — she's after 
 us — she's charging ! Back of all ! Guns, Simpson ! 
 Guns ! The lunatic has guns ! Some Navy duffer 
 has mounted heavy artillery. Back full speed, she's 
 on us " 
 
 Brand threw himself across the instrument table, 
 set the formula for explosives, banged down the 
 key, flashed out the electric waves for high explo- 
 sives. Her red-hot bows cleaving the hurricane, 
 the Gigantic came roaring down full on the broad- 
 side, flame streaming from her guns, shells bursting. 
 Her ram was within a hundred yards, within fifty, 
 the yacht, struck by the bow waves, fell reeling over 
 on her beam ends, lost in a cloud of blazing scarlet 
 
THE STORY OF THE SHIPS 173 
 
 light, crushed down by enormous jagged wreckage 
 of steel. 
 
 Then she righted, rolling violently, alone in 
 heaven, while far down through space fell incan- 
 descent fragments of the lost Gigantic, destroyed 
 by her own magazines. 
 
XV 
 
 CAST OUT OF HEAVEN 
 
 Lyonesse had been in a state of trance, her factories 
 silent, her house-fronts barricaded, her streets 
 deserted, save for marching troops, and the grim 
 shadows of patrolhng warships. 
 
 Then at noon on the fourth day of the Terror, 
 the white-hot wreck of the Gigantic whirled down 
 upon the fields beyond Penzance ; and Brand's orders 
 flashed from the heavens commanding Lord Ulster's 
 squadron to surrender, his troops to evacuate the 
 city. The Mary Rose had defeated the Channel 
 Fleet, had destroyed the Gigantic, was descending 
 now in vengeance, while no man saw as yet that 
 the little yacht ran blood upon her decks, and 
 barely held the tenure of the air. The squadron 
 fled in disorder, the regiments broke and scattered, 
 the officials hid themselves, and the master came to 
 his own. The Mary Rose piteously broken, her 
 engines hardly alive, and half her crew slain or 
 disabled, rolled slowly homeward, and fell at the 
 doors of Brand's office, never to rise again. One 
 may see the shattered hulk to-day resting with all 
 her stains of blood and her wounds of battle in the 
 splendid chamber of gold and marble which bears 
 the legend of her victories. 
 
 174 
 
. CAST OUT OF HEAVEN 175 
 
 Thousands of people gathered to welcome the 
 master, but when he came down the gangway they 
 forebore to cheer. He still wore the golden harness, 
 but now it was stained and torn, his face was stream- 
 ing with blood, his eyes were terrible. Simpson had 
 a broken arm roughly bound, Lancaster an ugly 
 wound across the shoulder. The master asked if 
 there were any surgeons present, and two who came 
 forward were sent on board the yacht. Then, 
 through a lane of men standing uncovered in silence, 
 Brand went on to the doors of his ofhce, while 
 Lancaster and Simpson returned to help with the 
 wounded. 
 
 With the master's presence at once every nerve 
 of the city thrilled to life, for as message after 
 message went out to the chiefs of departments, 
 electric yachts swarmed into the air, the streets 
 were thronged, the tramcars started, and, Sunday 
 as it was, banks, offices, and shops took down their 
 shutters. The factories went to work with three 
 eight-hour shifts at double wages, and never was 
 there known such a fever of haste in the dockyards. 
 
 From St. Ives to Penzance earthworks were 
 thrown up in defence, and all explosives were re- 
 moved to mine the approaches of the city. Indeed, 
 there was cause. The yards were a mass of ruins 
 where no less than twenty etheric liners had been 
 blown to pieces by the Government troops. Eighty- 
 five ships of Brand's fleet were lying in various 
 cities throughout the world, their crews in prison, 
 and many of their engines disabled. There remained 
 half a dozen old vessels worth patching up fox service, 
 and these rang night and day with preparation. 
 
176 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 On the first day, late in the evening, the 
 cargo ship Lion came in from Ballarat, and 
 Captain Simpson took command of her in attend- 
 ance upon the master. So came the evening of 
 the i8th of June, 1980, the sixth day of the 
 Terror. 
 
 In our National Portrait Gallery all the pictures 
 have golden frames except one. Please come and 
 see that painting framed in iron — " To the memory 
 of Sarah Brand." 
 
 A woman, forty years of age, massively built, 
 and of unusual stature, she stands in a deep shadow 
 draped with heavy folds of violet cloth, her robe 
 lashed at the breast with a chain of barbaric gold. 
 She is crowned with an unruly mane of harsh red 
 hair. Her eyes are pale blue, of startling brilliancy, 
 her features of rugged, almost savage, strength. So 
 was she in her life, and only her brother knew the 
 deeds of mercy which she never avowed, the fierce 
 love which found its expression in wrath, the burning 
 passions only revealed in harshness, the mighty angel 
 hid in the rough prison of her body. 
 
 She had built that granite cottage on the Tol 
 Pedn cliffs, where the Atlantic storms thundered 
 against her walls ; and there she ruled with an iron 
 discipline, keeping her chambers relentlessly bare 
 and clean. There on the sixth night of the Terror 
 she entertained her brother's guests at a dinner of 
 Spartan severity, given in honour of Brand's new 
 Government. 
 
 " Sir," she said to Lancaster, " you take the 
 head of the table. You represent her Majesty 
 to-night, so my Lord Bishop of London sits on your 
 
CAST OUT OF HEAVEN 177 
 
 right as Chancellor of the Empire, and his Grace of 
 Clydesdale on your left as Foreign Minister." 
 
 So she placed the guests in order of their dignity. 
 General Lord Fortescue, V.C., as Minister for War, 
 the Earl of Rothschild as First Lord of the Admiralty, 
 the Lords Commissioners for Canada, Australasia, 
 Africa, the Secretaries for India and the Treasury, 
 and the President of the Board of Trade. 
 
 " Jack O'Brien," she said to the last, " you 
 and I will share the foot of the table." 
 
 Mr. O'Brien, President of the United Trades 
 
 Unions, whose presence was resented by the rest, 
 
 sat down at the humblest place in obvious triumph. 
 
 " But surely, Mistress Brand," he said, " where's 
 
 the master ? " 
 
 " My lords and gentlemen," said Sarah Brand, 
 " my brother asks for no place at the table of the 
 Imperial Council. He will wait upon you after- 
 wards. Bishop, will you say grace ? " 
 
 A murmur of astonishment went round the table, 
 and the Ministers, doubtful until then, lest they be 
 lifting a Dictator to the throne, saw clearly that the 
 master did them honour. So was the absence of 
 the host — late for dinner — construed not as an insult 
 to his guests, but as the greatest compliment he 
 could pay them. 
 
 The Ministers had been in council all day long, 
 now they talked anything but politics, nor, after our 
 Lady's health was drunk, would they consent to the 
 absence of Mistress Brand. 
 
 " We have, indeed, no business left to discuss," 
 
 said the Bishop, cheerfully. " Everything is settled." 
 
 " There's only one thing you've all forgotten," 
 
 N 
 
1/8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 answered the hostess, smoothing her turbulent red 
 hair, as she glanced from face to face. " You left 
 out Ulster," 
 
 " My dear Miss Brand," said Clydesdale, " we've 
 laid that ghost." 
 
 " He's not dead yet," — the woman's eyes were 
 kindling. " John never supposed he would dare to 
 defy Lyonesse, or make himself Dictator, or depose 
 the poor little Queen. You don't know what a man 
 you're dealing with. Do you suppose he'll sit down 
 meekly now ? " 
 
 " Sure," cried O'Brien, " he could stuff all his 
 meekness into one back tooth." 
 
 " You mark my words," said Mistress Sarah, 
 gravely. " His Meekness has fangs in him yet, and 
 if I know him, he will strike to-night." 
 
 " Not if I'm dentist," said Brand of Lyonesse. 
 He stood in the curtained doorway deadly pale, and, 
 by reason of throbbing, insistent wounds a bandage 
 about his head. To-night in token of service he 
 wore again the splendid golden harness of the Guard. 
 
 " I ask your forgiveness, gentlemen," he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " Give him some wine ! " cried Fortescue, " he's 
 fainting ! " 
 
 " Wine," said the master, as reeling to the table 
 he splashed champagne into a glass. " Yes, drink 
 with me to our Lady Margaret, the Queen ! " 
 
 He swallowed the draught of wine, and gaining 
 strength stood presently erect. 
 
 " Yes ! " He flung the glass shattering to the 
 floor. " So ends Ulster to-morrow, and so perish all 
 her enemies ! " 
 
CAST OUT OF HEAVEN 179 
 
 He fell into a seat beside the table, 
 
 " I'm not very well," he explained ; " my doctor's 
 at his wits' end. Poor Boyes believes he can't keep 
 me going another hour. Let me see," — he was look- 
 ing down at the table, his eyes half closed, trying 
 to piece the words together — " I have a report to 
 make ; yes, it's about the ships. 
 
 " The Lion first, she's on guard. Two more 
 are ready in the yards — old crocks, but they'll do 
 to defend our base. I have good news. The — 
 what's her name — I can't remember her name — 
 brand-new ship of 25,700 tons under arrest at Glas- 
 gow, crew in gaol, ah, yes, the Golden Hind. It 
 seems her people have broken out of gaol, captured 
 the ship — left Glasgow heading south — coming to 
 help. She hasn't reported to me yet — but she ought 
 to have before now. That makes two ships to defend 
 the base, with the Lion and the Golden Hind to 
 fight. With these we can recapture ships enough 
 to overthrow our Lady's enemies. Am I talking 
 sense ? I must be a little delirious. Here's a list 
 of the ships to be recaptured. I forgot to bring the 
 list." 
 
 He held his forehead now with both hands, and 
 his eyes strayed until they fastened on Lancaster. 
 
 " How's your shoulder, lad ? It hurts, eh ? 
 Will you be able to command the Lion to-morrow ? 
 And you, my dear Lord Rothschild ? And you. 
 Lord Fortescue ? Willfyou command the ships ? 
 The captains I trusted have been betraying me, all 
 except Ross of the Golden Hind and Simpson, 
 commanding the Lion, but he's wounded. 
 
 " Thank God there'll be no more Gigantic to 
 
i8o THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 fight. The glass of the cupola shattered about our 
 heads, and the cold broke in, and the yacht was 
 rolling over and over, eh, Lancaster ? But to- 
 morrow, the conquest of England ! 
 
 " I know ! I know ! " The master spoke fret- 
 fully. " I'm hardly fit to serve her. My Lords," 
 — he looked round hazily towards his sister — " my 
 Lords, you must take command — you must save 
 Margaret, my Queen. Tell her, my Lords, that the 
 Chariot — the Chariot of the Sun — has — has fallen. 
 
 Tell her I tried— tried " 
 
 He rolled out of his chair insensible. 
 The men were crowding about him to advise, to 
 ask for assistance, to help. 
 
 " Back ! Back ! " cried the woman. " He's mine ! 
 He's mine, I tell you ! " Her hands wrenched 
 at the gorget of his mailed tunic, she released 
 the pressure on his throat, she bathed his head, 
 all the time crying angrily at the men — " Get 
 away — off with you, out of my house, get to your 
 yachts, bring the list of the ships from his ofi&ce. 
 Bring the Imperial Fleet to guard him until he can 
 fight. Stay, you ! My Lord Lancaster, quick, cut 
 away this chain-mail. Are they all gone ? ' ' Stagger- 
 ing to her feet, she called after Jack O'Brien. " Your 
 yacht, sir, bring Dr. Boyes — 965, George Street. 
 You, Lord Clydesdale, telephone Boyes to be ready." 
 They laid the master on the bench in the window 
 and when nothing more could be done, waited with 
 what patience they might, Lancaster on his knees, 
 fanning the still white face. Mistress Brand seated 
 at the head of the table against a galaxy of electric 
 lamps. Beyond the broad frame of the open window 
 
CAST OUT OF HEAVEN i8l 
 
 glowed sea and sky in one great sphere of moonlight 
 glory, and at times the perfume of seaweed came in 
 on the salt cool air. 
 
 From time to time she plied the bandages about 
 her brother's head with ice-cold water ; and always, 
 clutched in the death-like rigour of Brand's left 
 hand, the aerograph clicked message after message. 
 Presently above the low murmur of the pulsing sea, 
 the tireless instrument sounded insistent signals, so 
 that the woman's quick brain began to take in the 
 words flashed down by Captain Simpson from the 
 Lion. 
 
 " Sorry to trouble you, sir. I'm getting anxious 
 about the Golden Hind. She ought to be here 
 ninety minutes ago. I asked the towns on her 
 route, and she's not been seen either from Douglas, 
 from Holyhead, or from Pembroke. Manchester 
 reported a first-class etheric liner passing at lo p.m. 
 on the way to London. I asked the London office, 
 and find she was lying directly over Whitehall at 
 II o'clock, then headed for the west. I fear that 
 Ulster's up to some new treachery. More news, 
 sir — first-class etheric liner sighted from Salisbury 
 heading for Lyonesse." 
 
 Wrenching the aerograph from her brother's 
 hand, Mistress Sarah gave the signal " continue." 
 
 " Glad you read me, sir, my broken arm makes 
 it hard to signal." 
 
 Mistress Sarah, little used to the instrument, 
 spelled out an order slowly. 
 
 " Call up the Golden Hind." 
 
iS2 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 There was a long pause before the aerograph 
 stirred again. 
 
 " No reply, sir. Exeter reports the Golden 
 Hind. She will be here in half an hour." 
 
 A servant announced Dr. Boyes. 
 
 " Doctor, come here," — the woman spoke in low, 
 even tones. " My brother is in danger — wake him 
 for me." 
 
 The physician, a strong, swart man of fiftj% 
 without one word of answer, drew a chair to the 
 master's side, and fell to instant study of the case. 
 
 Ten minutes passed while the sea crooned, beat 
 upon slow beat of her everlasting music under the 
 cliffs ; and the clock against the wall throbbed out 
 the seconds. 
 
 Lancaster answered the doctor's whispered 
 questions, and the woman sat rigid by the table 
 where glowing heaps of fruit, strewn lilies, and cut 
 glass cast their reflections on black polished oak. 
 
 The ticking of the clock became so unbearable 
 that at last Mistress Sarah, in feverish irritation, 
 swept across the room, wrenched it down from the 
 wall, and threw it out of the window. The thing 
 fell and fell, but there was no answering from the 
 sea, which still by beat and beat crooned the slow 
 song of times past and present and to come, eternity 
 unto eternity. 
 
 "Mistress Brand," said the doctor; "if this 
 man sleeps he will live — if he wakes he dies." 
 
 " Would he wake if I moved him ? " 
 
 " No — nothing would wake him short of an 
 electric battery." 
 
 The aerograph began to speak again. 
 
CAST OUT OF HEAVEN 183 
 
 " What shall I do, sir ? " 
 
 " Destroy the Golden Hind," clicked the slow 
 signals. 
 
 " You must be ill, sir," flashed the swift reply. 
 " Remember her power, her size, her speed. The 
 Lion can neither fight nor run." 
 
 " Mr. Brand is unconscious. I am Miss Brand. 
 Come down — rescue the master. He'll be captured — 
 quick." 
 
 " Madam, it's too late. I should be caught 
 aground. I must fight the Golden Hind. It will 
 give you time to get the master away." 
 
 " How can you fight ? " 
 
 " With the formula for explosives, and if she has 
 none on board, I'll try the ram. Get the master 
 away." 
 
 " Where are you ? " 
 
 " Seven miles directly overhead. For Heaven's 
 sake, be quick." 
 
 " He's right," said Mistress Sarah aloud. " Dr. 
 Boyes, within ten minutes this house will be 
 attacked and my brother captured unless I can 
 get him away. There's only one place safe from 
 treachery. Under this window the cliff falls 
 straight to the sea, but fifty feet down there is a 
 narrow ledge. From that ledge there are steps 
 cut down to my brother's bathing place. He uses 
 a knotted rope to reach the ledge. I'm going to 
 lower him down." 
 
 " That I forbid," said Dr. Boyes. " It's almost 
 certain death." 
 
 " To stay here is certain capture. He'd rather 
 die." 
 
iS4 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Then looking up from his place by the master's 
 head, " Our Lady is in love with him," said Lan- 
 caster. " He's got to be saved ! " 
 
 " It's impossible." 
 
 " In the Queen's name," cried Lancaster, " I 
 command ! " 
 
 " Quick ! " said Mistress Brand. " Run, lad, to 
 the dressing-room — it's next to this ; the coil of 
 rope is in the window casing. There's no time to 
 lose." 
 
 Once more the aerograph spoke. " My engineers 
 have mutinied. If I'm rammed, your house is 
 directly below — I can't move the ship — the 
 engineers " 
 
 Then silence. 
 
 " I've read the signals, madam," said Dr. Boyes. 
 "I'll help." 
 
 Lancaster was at hand dragging the coil of rope, 
 and ]\Iistress Sarah seized the turk's head — a large 
 knot finishing the end. Five feet from that she bent 
 a half-hitch. " Dr. Bo^'es, lift him by the arms ! 
 There — " She passed the rope under her brother's 
 back, slipped the turk's head through the ring of her 
 knot, hauled taut, and had a sling under Brand's 
 armpits ready. Breathing hard, she took up a coil 
 of rope and passed it round the heavy iron guard-bar 
 outside the window. She made the loose end of the 
 rope weU fast to the bar. " Lad," she said quickly 
 to Lancaster, " lift his feet as I haul ; lift him half 
 out through the window." 
 
 Dr. Boyes laid on to the rope behind her, while 
 Lancaster gently guided the master's body outwards 
 until it swung clear, suspended by the armpits. Then 
 
CAST OUT OF HEAVEN 185 
 
 the rope was lowered away until the weight was taken 
 by the rock ledge fifty feet below. 
 
 " Dr. Boyes," cried the woman, " leave the house 
 at once — get to safety outside. His life depends on 
 yours — you'll send down food, and you will rescue 
 him. Lad — down the rope with you ! " 
 
 Dr. Boyes ran to get the servants out of the 
 house. 
 
 " Lad, get down that rope." 
 
 " Madam, I help you first." 
 
 " My place is here — get down, and I'll lower some 
 bedding. Get down, I say ! He may die before 
 you can reach him." 
 
 Lancaster swung himself out against the moon- 
 light and the sea, and once again the waves below 
 beat in their slow monotony, the little waves of 
 time, beating against the eternities from everlasting 
 to everlasting. 
 
 The woman breathed a great sigh of content, 
 reaching out her arms to grasp the bar, and swing 
 out upon the rope. Even then a new star shone 
 in the heavens, a growing glory lighting her red 
 hair, her violet robes, and finding majesty in her 
 hard face. 
 
 The earth was calling the Lion — rammed in 
 mid-air — the wind raged against her flanks, she was 
 red hot, she blazed white, and as a falling star, cast 
 her fierce splendour over land and sea, attended by 
 rushing hurricanes of wind, winged with the souls of 
 dying men, and freighted with the bodies of the dead. 
 
 Then in a crash of thunder the light went out, 
 and again the moon was shining on a silver sea, grey 
 
i86 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 cliffs, lonely, desolate and gaunt, crowned by a 
 column of dust where a house had been. 
 
 And the little waves crept up one by one out of 
 silence, to beat out their lives against the eternal 
 avails. 
 
XVI 
 
 THE queen's days 
 
 The i8th — 19th — 20th and 21st of June are known 
 as the Queen's days, a time of quiet in the Palace, 
 while Margaret was sheltered by the love of her ser- 
 vants from all the horrors of the blood-stained world. 
 Outside the guarded walls reason had fled from the 
 earth and our humane civilization seemed to be dying. 
 On the Wednesday we knew that Brand's council 
 had assembled. On Thursday while we waited for 
 news it rained, on Friday a merry breeze was laughing 
 among the trees. On Saturday great clouds came 
 sailing up from the west, and scattered their sparkling 
 showers through the sunlight ; but still we heard no 
 tidings, saw no ships. On Sundayit rained again, and 
 Margaret, with her knights and gentlemen, attended 
 the service of the Eucharist. After luncheon 
 Margaret left the Russian Prince as usual to his 
 wine, and walked with her hounds beside the garden 
 lake. Nobody knew what our Lady thought, nobody 
 guessed how much our Lady hoped, but Sydney 
 found her sitting in the rose arbour. At her feet 
 the rippling lake pawed with tiny insistence on the 
 pebbles, but the Queen was watching the clouds, a 
 squadron of big white clouds which came from Avalon, 
 from L^'onesse. 
 
 187 
 
i8S THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Trooper Browne, as usual, was with Sydney, but 
 the recruit hung back a httle so that my lord was 
 alone when he bent on his knee before the Queen. 
 
 " What is it, Sydney ? " 
 
 " We are sent, madam, to be in attendance on 
 the Queen's Majesty." 
 
 " But I want to be alone." 
 
 Sydney looked up, and in his grave, grey eyes 
 there was trouble. 
 
 " We all know," he said, " that our Lady wants 
 to be alone." 
 
 " And yet you come ? " 
 
 " I can't help it." 
 
 She saw the trouble deepen in his face. " God 
 guard you, Sydney. What's the matter now ? " 
 
 " Nothing serious, madam, but please sit quite 
 still for a moment." 
 
 Even while he spoke a gunshot rang out close 
 beside the Queen, a deep groan sounded from the 
 bush behind her, and Trooper Browne rushed past 
 with a smoking pistol. 
 
 " Let our Lady keep still," said Sj^dney, never 
 moving ; and presently Browne came back, with over 
 elaborate calmness, to report. 
 
 " It's all right," he saluted ; " only a duck." 
 
 " Ducks are out of season," remarked the Queen, 
 gravely. " Trooper Browne, don't you know it's 
 unlawful to poach ducks ? This is not Canada." 
 
 " A wooden decoy duck," Browne explained, 
 calmer than ever. 
 
 " Is it dead ? " 
 
 " Quite dead, madam." 
 
 " Was it armed ? " 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 189 
 
 " Yes — that is — no, madam." 
 
 " English ? " 
 
 " Imported." 
 
 " Poor duck ! I've heard the bushes rustHng 
 this last ten minutes. I even heard your wooden 
 decoy duck breathe. Come, gentlemen, sit in the 
 arbour with me, and look out for ducks." 
 
 They both protested. 
 
 " Nay, I command you, gentlemen." So they 
 removed their helmets, and Browne, sheathing his 
 pistol, sat down very gingerly all on edge, nursing 
 his sword, red hot with embarrassment. Sydney 
 crouched down on a stool at our Lady's feet. 
 
 " At ease, dear lads," said Margaret, pleading 
 against their silence. " Only a minute ago you 
 saved my life — now you must make glum faces. 
 You're most depressing." 
 
 Still both men were silent. 
 
 " Come," urged the Queen. " We're two men 
 and a maid under the roses, and it's your bounden 
 duty to amuse the maid. Tell me the news. How 
 is our guest, the Russian ? " 
 
 Sydney turned away his face. 
 
 " Come," cried Margaret, insisting ; " what does 
 he see now — snakes ? " 
 
 " They've grown, madam," Browne grinned. 
 " He's having a fight with sea-serpents." 
 
 " I'd rather amuse the Queen," said my Lord. 
 " My story is better than that." 
 
 " A story ! " Now Margaret clapped her hands 
 with a gay little laugh. " Once upon a time — go 
 on, I like my fairies as naughty as can be, and mind, 
 plenty of fairies." 
 
igo THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " There's only one fairy left." Sydney looked 
 away across the sunlit lake. " Romance is dead, 
 and there's nothing to tell the fairy Queen but 
 grim, sordid, horrible tragedy." 
 
 " He's awfully tired, madam," said Browne. 
 " Why, we've had more fun these last three days 
 than " 
 
 " Let Browne begin." My Lord looked up with 
 a smile. " I do believe he'll make it a fairy tale." 
 
 " Why, Trooper Browne ! " our Lady laughed. 
 " This after all your headlong adventures in Canada ! 
 Then London is not so tame and dull as you thought ? ' ' 
 
 " Dull ! Mother will be standing on her head 
 when she knows that I've made friends with the 
 Marquess of Sydney, and actually spoken to the 
 very Queen herself. Me ! " 
 
 " You dear boy," — Margaret unfastened her 
 bracelet ; — " when you see your mother, give her 
 this with my love. There now, tell me the story." 
 
 Mr. Browne was a little hysterical, but presently, 
 under threats from Sydney, began. 
 
 " I can't understand — do you know, madam, 
 that there's another London underneath the ground, 
 with thousands of miles of tunnels and passages, 
 railroads and rivers — and — well, there is ! 
 
 " Three nights ago, Sydney and I were off duty, 
 and he was in my room telling me " 
 
 " This man," my Lord interrupted sharply, "can 
 smell things just like an animal, and as to his sight 
 and hearing, they're very witchcraft." 
 
 " People here," said Browne, indignantly, " are 
 blind, deaf, dumb, and their noses fit for nothing 
 but catching a cold. Why, if Sydney turns round 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 191 
 
 a corner he's lost. Anyway, that night I heard 
 something underground, crowbars, I thought — any- 
 way, men at work. We knew there must be some- 
 thing wrong, so we armed ourselves and bolted 
 down to the cellars. There's acres and acres of 
 palace down underground, and what with the dark- 
 ness, the hundreds of different sounds, and all the 
 mixed smells " 
 
 " What smells ? " 
 
 " Why sawdust, madam, and wine casks and 
 stores, machinery — all sorts of smells. I couldn't 
 tell where to look. We were off near the south-west 
 court, when all of a sudden I smelt sumach leaves 
 rotting after a frost — Sydney made out it was 
 drains, and that was no dream either when we got 
 a little nearer. It came through a door, and behind 
 we could hear men at work trying to keep quiet — 
 shouting in whispers, and splashing as if they were 
 all having a bath. When we broke through the 
 door we found it opened into a ventilator shaft 
 which goes up three hundred feet through the 
 south-west tower. Close under us it opened down 
 into a big tunnel half full of water, sort of railway 
 tunnel it looked, but Sydney says it's a sewer." 
 
 " It's the Tyburn," my Lord explained. 
 
 A thousand years ago the Tyburn was a brook, 
 and one can trace its valley still through Tyburnia — 
 the Mayfair district, the dip in Piccadilly, and the 
 hollows of Green Park and St. James's Park, to 
 where it ran into the Thames at Westminster. 
 
 " The Tyburn," said my Lord, " has become a 
 sewer, and it flows right under the Palace." 
 
 " A river under my Palace ! " 
 
192 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Yes, madam," said Browne, " we found it full 
 of punts and little barges, with flaring torches to 
 light them, and a score of sewer men working away 
 like beavers." 
 
 " But what were they doing ? " 
 
 " They were busy unloading the boxes, small 
 chests, several tons, madam." 
 
 " Chests of what ? " 
 
 " Dynamite, madam." 
 
 " Good gracious ! " 
 
 " Please don't be frightened, there's nothing to 
 fear," my Lord laughed easily. " I inspected the 
 work, and the electrician showed me some really 
 excellent casing and insulation. The foreman, a 
 Mr. Briggs, had no doubt whatever that the effect 
 would be most volcanic, and they all took quite a 
 pride when I praised their efforts." 
 
 " To blow up the Palace ! " 
 
 " Yes, Lord Ulster is ever thoughtful for our 
 Lady's comfort. I proposed to send down 
 refreshments." 
 
 " Refreshments," Browne chuckled. " He 
 threatened to empty the Palace tanks and drown 
 them." 
 
 " Lm sorry to say," continued my Lord, " that 
 Trooper Browne was rude to Mr. Briggs. If his 
 carbine had actually gone off — the dynamite you 
 l^now — the situation needed delicate handling." 
 
 " They sneaked behind Sydney and made him 
 prisoner ! " cried Browne, indignantly. 
 
 " A guest," said my Lord, correcting him. " I 
 had ventured to suggest that the explosives should 
 be moved further down the tunnel and stacked 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 193 
 
 underneath the Departments of State in Whitehall, 
 Ulster's seat of Government. They thought he 
 might be annoyed, and Ulster, you see, provided food 
 for their wives and families. They offered to take 
 me to his Grace of Ulster," 
 
 " They lashed him down on the barge," said 
 Trooper Browne. 
 
 " Yes," my Lord assented ; " Browne jumped 
 down into the barge on top of me, ran his sword 
 through Mr. Briggs, settled with the electrician, and 
 cut me loose. The rest of the men attacked us 
 vigorously, but it was hardly fair play, as we could 
 not provide them with swords. Several were hurt. 
 After Browne's jump, I had little wind for talking, 
 but in the end we resumed the conversation just 
 where it left off." 
 
 " He'd talk a bird off a tree ! " said Browne. 
 
 " Somehow," my dear Lord flushed, " I have a 
 knack of making friends with the very roughest 
 men, though I always fail with the smooth. This 
 dear Browne, for instance, seems to get on with me. 
 I told the sewer men that I had the honour to be 
 Ulster's next-of-kin — that — that if — if the Lord 
 Protector were to leave this world which he has so 
 graced, certain estates would fall to me — which I 
 could not accept. In fact, by a written deed I made 
 them in some measure heirs of his Grace — and more 
 suitable heirs than I for such a nobleman. I ex- 
 pressly by deed forbade them to assist at his death. 
 If Whitehall is changed by earthquake, no man will 
 fire the mine save my Lord Protector. He has laid 
 mines, let him fire his mines with his own hand, and 
 go to his God for judgment." 
 
 o 
 
194 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The Queen's hand stole out softly and rested 
 upon my Lord's shoulder. 
 
 " And may I go on ?" he asked. 
 
 " Surely." 
 
 " My friends of the sewers have been very good 
 to me, and they had to save their families from 
 hunger. 
 
 " They're a queer people, wearing great heavy 
 boots up to their thighs, and rough suits of canvas. 
 They lent us such clothes the night before last, and 
 Browne and I went with them to see the mines of 
 dynamite under Whitehall. In course of a long, 
 rather unpleasant ramble we came directly under- 
 neath the Chancellery and got our friends to break 
 a passage upward into the building. Last night — 
 taking our swords as a precaution, we visited the 
 Chancellor's room, and found there a gentleman 
 engaged at the telegraph. We had to wait some 
 time before this gentleman noticed our presence. 
 When he was at leisure Browne offered him the use 
 of a sword. I found him an accomplished swords- 
 man." 
 
 " Who was this gentleman ? " asked Margaret, 
 and Lord Sydney rose upon his knees. 
 
 " Madam," he said, gravely, " I engaged my 
 commanding officer." 
 
 " You fought the Duke of Gloucester ! " 
 
 " I killed him." 
 
 Sydney drew his sword, and pointing the blade 
 at his own breast presented the hilt to his sovereign. 
 
 " You have killed Rupert ! " Margaret laid her 
 hands upon the hilt. " Heaven be my witness that 
 now, and afterwards, I am ready to share the blame. 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 195 
 
 and if there's punishment now or afterwards let it 
 fall on me. What am I, Sydney, that I should have 
 a friend like you, so loyal, so fearless, and so great ? 
 There, my dear friend, put away your sword. I 
 knew that my cousin Gloucester was disloyal, and 
 you have cleansed the dishonour of the Guard." 
 
 " I am forgiven ? " 
 
 " So far as a very unhappy woman can forgive 
 the dearest friend she has in the world." She 
 thought for a moment, then, speaking eagerly, 
 " What time did this happen ? " 
 
 " At eight this morning, madam." 
 
 " Do you know that was the time of the early 
 service ? " 
 
 " I was thinking of that." 
 
 " Sydney, when I knelt before the Table, I saw 
 you at my side ! " 
 
 " To-day I have been at peace," said my Lord. 
 
 " I, too, Sydney. You have news for me. Why 
 keep it back ? " 
 
 " Madam, I have news. I want to turn my back 
 — for once, upon my Lady. May I ? " 
 
 He crouched at her feet again, looking away 
 across the lake, the garden trees, and the white 
 cloud flecks, even to where the sun was, westward. 
 
 " I must speak," he said in a low voice, " of 
 Ulster, who is reputed to be my father. I don't 
 think I have any bitter thoughts left, but I would 
 not claim this man for my father. My mother was 
 a gentlewoman, and is with the angels. That she 
 was his wife so tarnishes her sacred memory that I 
 would rather believe her mistaken in supposing the 
 Duke of Ulster to be my father." 
 
196 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Margaret was stroking the man's bowed head. 
 " Sydney," she whispered, " I loved her. And 
 Trooper Browne is here." 
 
 " Browne is deaf," said my Lord. 
 
 " Browne is deaf," echoed the man who loved 
 him. 
 
 " But Margaret hears," said our Lady ; " and 
 Margaret understands." 
 
 " In Ulster's office," — my Lord looked down 
 at the rippled lake — " I overheard an exchange of 
 messages between his Royal Highness and the Lord 
 Protector. Of all spies and eavesdroppers I seem 
 the most fortunate." 
 
 "Oh, Sydney, you have news of Lyonesse ? " 
 
 " Madam, for three days past, Ulster has been 
 in possession of the city." 
 
 Our Lady uttered a low cry of fear. 
 
 " He captured one of the great etheric liners — 
 the Golden Hind. Brand had but one ship, the 
 Lion, on guard above his cottage at the time his 
 Ministers assembled. The Lion was rammed by the 
 Golden Hind, and fell right on the crown of the Tol 
 Pcdn cliffs, and the very rocks on which the cottage 
 stood were thrown down the wall into the sea." 
 
 " I cannot bear it, Sydney ! I cannot bear it ! '' 
 
 My Lord looked up, his eyes glittering with tears. 
 '' You are a woman, and women are braver than men. 
 You are the Queen, and d3'ing England dies with 
 majesty. The lightnings of God shall find no coward- 
 ice, and at the Last Judgment England shall not 
 flinch." 
 
 " I forgot myself," said Margaret very humbly, 
 " Go on — I will be quiet." 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 197 
 
 " I must go on," — my Lord wiped the sweat from 
 his forehead. " When Brand recaptured Lyonesse 
 last Sunday, Ulster's troops took refuge near 
 Marazion, and there starved. On Friday morning, 
 under orders from the Golden Hind they entered 
 the city again, and for these two days they have 
 murdered, plundered, and burned while they searched 
 for Brand. Lyonesse is a ruin, but the master has 
 not been found. It is known that he is alive, signals 
 from his aerograph have been intercepted ; but the 
 search for his hiding-place has failed, and Ulster is 
 coming back to-day." 
 
 The Queen was praying. 
 
 " In the great purposes of God he lives." My 
 Lord lifted his eyes towards the declining sun. 
 " There is hope, and I know that God will not let 
 England go from serving Him. The fire of our 
 national life dies down to ashes until the one spark 
 left is hidden courage, ready to flame again when 
 the time comes." 
 
 Browne turned his face away, for our Lady 
 sobbed. 
 
 " Ulster is coming," said my Lord presently. 
 " He has stolen the powers of Lyonesse, and for 
 the time he is master — for the time." 
 
 Browne was peering at the western sky, shading 
 his eyes with both hands. 
 
 " I see something," he muttered, '* right under 
 the sun, a bright speck, like a planet. Is that the 
 Golden Hind ? " 
 
 " Ulster is coming," my Lord shivered. " He 
 will come here demanding audience." Then, looking 
 up from where he crouched at her feet, " My Lady,'' 
 
iqs the chariot of the sun 
 
 he said in a very soft low voice, his lips tremulous, 
 his eyes full of yearning love ; " perhaps this is the 
 last favour I may ever ask — to see the Queen 
 alone." 
 
 " Trooper Brovvne," said our Lady, huskily, 
 "as I'm a woman I ought to be ready to receive 
 the Duke when he comes. Please, will you go and 
 gather some of the very dark roses that are nearly 
 black — and bring them to me here." 
 
 " Margaret," — my Lord's eyes watched his friend 
 going away in search of dark roses. " I shall go 
 with Ulster presently. For me this is the end." 
 
 " We shall not live, dear Sydney," answered the 
 Queen. " We shall not have to bear the pain for 
 ever, and Death is merciful." 
 
 " Then let the words come, Margaret, since 
 nothing matters any more. Before I go out to meet 
 this death, I love you. Oh, most royal woman 
 that ever lived, I came to serve in the Palace knowing 
 that because I dared to love the Queen, I must never 
 know peace of mind again — except such peace — 
 you say that I was with you this morning ? " 
 
 " At the Communion Table, yes." 
 
 " Was I beside you, Margaret ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ** Did you see me lift my hands to take the 
 Elements ? " 
 
 " They were covered with blood." 
 
 " At that moment I knelt by Gloucester, and 
 my hands were wet with blood trying to tie an 
 artery. I lifted my hands and you were beside me, 
 Margaret ! Margaret, I have been at peace knowing 
 well that to-day I must take my father's life." 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 199 
 
 " Oh, my dear brother ! my brother Sydney ! 
 The only brother I have known." 
 
 Bending down she took his face within her hands 
 and kissed him upon the forehead. 
 
 Then looking steadfastly into her eyes. " I see," 
 he whispered, awestruck, " the Queen seated on 
 the throne — the old throne in the Abbey, and Brand 
 is standing on the steps of the throne. So be 
 it." And laying his head upon her knees he 
 cried, our Lady giving him ease with a touch of 
 her fingers. 
 
 The Queen had granted audience to Ulster. In 
 her face there was peace as of one dead, about her 
 shoulders and in her hair she wore long, thorny, 
 sprays of the dark roses whose petals were like a 
 sacramental wine. She neither moved nor spoke, 
 and silent on her right hand, and her left, stood the 
 two Guardsmen, their hands resting on the hilts of 
 their drawn swords in readiness. 
 
 The Dictator was greatly changed, grown very 
 old, his flesh wasted, his eyes burning as though 
 with fever. Behind him the sun was setting, the 
 lake was red, and over his face the shadows of night 
 were deepening. 
 
 " Princess Margaret," he said, laying bitter stress 
 on the words of courtesy, " I have come to declare 
 to the ex-Queen these written intentions of the 
 Government." He presented a roll of parchment, 
 which our Lady made no movement to accept. He 
 laid the parchment at her feet. " Your Royal High- 
 ness is granted until sunrise," he announced, " to 
 repudiate the treason of John Brand." 
 
200 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Sydney," the Queen whispered, " speak to this 
 man." 
 
 My Lord Sydney turned his eyes slowly to the 
 Dictator. " George, Duke of Ulster," he said, very 
 quietly, " Her Imperial Majesty commands your 
 attendance at sunrise here. Meanwhile she is pleased 
 to grant you my escort to the gates." Still with 
 the drawn sword in his hand, my Lord saluted her 
 Majesty, and backed from the presence. " Sir," he 
 said to the Dictator, " we have her Majesty's 
 permission to withdraw. Come." He led Ulster 
 away, and as they passed out of sight among the 
 trees, " Father," he said, " father !" 
 
 " What, you ? " 
 
 " There's no one in hearing, sir." 
 
 The Dictator turned upon his son. " What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " All courtesy, sir." 
 
 " You abandon that woman's service ? " 
 
 " Otherwise, my dear father, you would have 
 been shot in her very presence." 
 
 " You take service with me ? " 
 
 " His Grace of Ulster loses the old acumen. 
 Was there ever a time, sir, when a son of our honour- 
 able house failed to go over to the winning side ? 
 Come. I must get you out of this garden. Your 
 life is not safe. And keep your eyes about you 
 when we enter the Palace." 
 
 " Jim, are you playing fair with your father ? " 
 
 " Time wiU show that." 
 
 They gained the lower terrace, and Ulster, 
 supporting himself upon the arm of his son, won- 
 dered why Sydney must turn to look back to 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 201 
 
 the lake, the rose garden, and the bower where 
 Margaret sat. 
 
 " Good-bye," Sydney was muttering. " For 
 ever and for ever, Margaret. Come, sir, come on," 
 he laughed. " I've news for you." They entered 
 the silent corridors of the Palace. " Queen Margaret 
 has a keen scent for explosives, and all your thought- 
 ful arrangements have been changed. From the 
 Broad Sanctuary to Trafalgar Square your Depart- 
 ments of State are mined with high explosives. In 
 your own office Gloucester's lying dead. There's 
 conspiracy afield to take your life to-day, or Margaret 
 would never have named to-morrow for surrender. 
 Even with my help you may be dead by then. 
 Hush ! It's not safe to talk till we gain your ship." 
 
 They crossed the throne room, traversed the 
 State apartments, and gained the head of the ala- 
 baster stairs. 
 
 " Guard, turn out ! " cried my Lord, and the 
 main guard paraded before they reached the porch. 
 
 " By her Majesty's command," — Sydney saluted 
 the officer of the day. " The main guard is desired 
 to attend my Lord Duke to his ship. Pass, sir," he 
 said to Ulster, " I attend you." 
 
 And as the main guard formed as an escort of 
 State, Sydney hung back until Sergeant Dymoke 
 passed him. 
 
 " Dymoke," he whispered, " fall out." 
 
 The Queen's Champion fell out of the ranks, and 
 my lord held him within the shadow of the columns. 
 
 " Dymoke, old man," — his voice was scarcely 
 audible — " I'm going with Ulster in the Golden 
 Hind, and I leave you a message for the Guard. I 
 
202 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 know a little of these etheric ships. Long years ago 
 Brand showed me the detail of their gear. When 
 they rise they're free from the pull of the earth, 
 and but for the brake would be whirled into outer 
 space. One blow of my sword will shatter the brake 
 past mending. I'mgoingfor a long voyage, Dymoke." 
 
 " Sydney, we can't spare you ! Oh, let me go 
 myself, if it must be done." 
 
 " Am I not to guard my own honour ? " My 
 Lord dropped his sword on the wrist sling. 
 
 " I am the Queen's Champion." 
 
 " Live for her then," he said. He took off his 
 helmet, and unfastened the Queen's favour, her glove, 
 which was bound to the brow. " This to our Lady," 
 he whispered. Then looking out to where the 
 gigantic ship lay waiting him, and the Dictator 
 impatiently cried for his son to come, " Tell her I 
 go to plead for her and for England. Good-bye." 
 My lord drew off his gauntlet, and, with his finger, 
 touched his friend upon the forehead. " We shall 
 not be long parted, you and I." 
 
 Then looking up to heaven, his face flushed by 
 the dying sunlight, he set the glowing helmet on his 
 head, took up his sword and passed slowly between 
 the waiting ranks of the guard to where Lord Ulster 
 received him upon the gangway. Even as the 
 Dictator led him, he turned in the shadow of the 
 port, and, lifting his sword hilt to his brow, gave 
 the salute. 
 
 The gangway crashed home. Nine hundred feet 
 in length, dwarfing the lofty Palace with her bulk, 
 all gleaming steel aglow in the sunset light, the 
 Golden Hind with one faint tremor spurned the 
 
THE QUEEN'S DAYS 203 
 
 ground away. She rose from her couch upon the 
 shattered trees, slow lifting, while the glass of all her 
 ports, tier upon tier, glittered and flashed like rubies. 
 
 Dismissed from their ranks, the Guardsmen 
 clustered about the columns of the porch, watched 
 the great ship go up. 
 
 Then Dymoke spoke to the officer and the rest. 
 " Lords and gentlemen of the Guard, I have a 
 message to you which Sydney left me. The Dictator 
 threatened our Lady's life, and goes to meet his 
 death at the hands of his son. My friend was too 
 knightly a man even to take her token on such a 
 quest." He showed them our Lady's glove. " He 
 dies for the Queen and for his honour." 
 
 The rising ship was already far aloft. 
 
 " He has destroyed the Golden Hind ! " 
 
 The ship at terrific speed whirled upward into 
 the heavens. 
 
 Then Dymoke, removing his helmet, spoke to the 
 others for " our dear brother departed. He asks 
 us to pray for him." 
 
 With bared heads they waited, these, my Lord's 
 comrades, watching the ship, which like a blood-red 
 star, glowed in the heights, and vanished even as the 
 sparks fly upward. 
 
 May we all have strength at the last to serve as 
 you served, to die as you died, Lord Sydney ! 
 
XVII 
 
 HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 
 
 The sun was rising, the keen still air had a tang 
 of smoke from one or two parishes sacked and 
 burned over-night. Under the barricaded windows 
 of St. Stephen's Palace a starving street arab was 
 at work with a few grains of banana meal and a 
 string noose, trying to snare a pigeon. A man 
 watched him furtively from beside one of the 
 buttresses of the Abbey. That man had been a 
 barrister before the World-Storm, now he was a 
 tramp, and his coat was buttoned up because his 
 underclothes had been sold for a meal. All night 
 he had been with a crowd in the Strand wrecking 
 the hotels in search of food. A dog or two had 
 been dragged out of the flames, and torn to pieces ; 
 but the barrister won not so much as a taste of the 
 blood, because some stronger desperadoes charged 
 in a body and carried the food away. Now the 
 Savoy district was a smouldering furnace, and the 
 barrister watched the street arab, intending robbery 
 if the lad got meat. 
 
 Something caught his wandering attention ; the 
 body of a man, which lay at the base of the statue 
 of Richard Coeur de Lion, out in the bare paved 
 square. The barrister stole across from the Abbey, 
 
 204 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 205 
 
 but when he bent over the man, hoping for plunder, 
 he found he had made a mistake. The supposed 
 corpse proved to be ahve, and remarked that he 
 had nothing worth steahng. 
 
 The barrister shrank back, smihng vaguely. 
 " Watching that boy in the hope of a pigeon, eh ? " 
 
 " No," said the other ; " it's better to rest and 
 not use up one's tissue. That's economy." 
 
 The barrister sat down beside him, produced a 
 pipe, and demanded tobacco. 
 
 The other shook his head, but the lawyer thought 
 that a little friendly conversation might win him 
 a fill for his pipe. So he looked at the starving 
 wretch beside him. 
 
 " Oxford ? " he ventured. 
 
 " Yes, Brasenose. Are you a college man, too ? " 
 
 " Dublin," said the barrister. " I was a 
 novelist." 
 
 " I was a curate ; I used to preach about the 
 Day of Judgment — but d'you know, it's quite 
 different. The canonists never suggested that it 
 would last so long, but it's extremely interest- 
 ing, and I'm planning a work on contemporary 
 Eschatology." 
 
 " Judgment be blowed," the barrister snorted, 
 " it's the usual cause and effect, machinery broken 
 down — passengers hungry. I'm beastly pinched." 
 
 " Are you really ? " The curate still had a 
 trace of his pulpit manner. " Now that is most 
 curious. My hunger has gone away quite, but if 
 my mind seems to wander pray correct me. Am 
 I talking nonsense now ? " 
 
 " No ; what was your last meal ? " 
 
2o6 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " A portion of rat," said the parson, smiling at 
 the pleasant suggestion of memory. " But my 
 landlady has taken to improper courses, led away, 
 poor thing, by her daughter. She has joined one 
 of the cannibal clubs. I felt that she was becoming 
 untrustworthy, and withdrew to the streets." 
 
 The barrister laughed wearily. " My wife and 
 children — " he said ; "I shot them last night — 
 well — who cares ? " 
 
 " How shocking," said the curate. " Hope," he 
 continued, " is dead, and our prayers break upon 
 the brazen echoing heavens. Who would have 
 supposed that the world would die so hard ? " 
 
 " Don't preach," said the barrister, " it makes 
 me sick." 
 
 The curate looked up with a vacant stare at the 
 towering heights of the Abbey. From far away 
 came the rumble of the organ, for this was the time 
 for the early Celebration. By the calendar it was 
 Monday, the Twelfth Day of the Terror. 
 
 " I think I could have hoped," the parson wiped 
 a tear away with his torn sleeve, " only there's 
 always such a crowd at the Government food shops. 
 The men trample the women and children to death, 
 and that takes away one's appetite." 
 
 " Yes, we're savages now," said the barrister, 
 '' we've shed our infernal skin of gentility." 
 
 He looked away towards the street arab. The 
 lad was rejoicing on the verge of success, but rejoiced 
 too early, for the pigeon flew clear of the snare. 
 Then the lad cursed. 
 
 " I watched all night," said the curate, " by the 
 Palace. Our poor little Queen works hard," 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 207 
 
 The other was cynical. " Does she ? " 
 
 " D'you know," said the other, " that Ulster is 
 dead ? '" 
 
 " No such luck." 
 
 " But it's true. A woman stabbed him. 
 Really." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I crept into the porch, and there were two 
 gentlemen of the Bodyguard, talking. They turned 
 me away into the rain. D'you know there was 
 something going on. All night I saw ships and 
 private yachts, hundreds of them, reporting at the 
 Palace towers. The air was black with them 
 coming and going." 
 
 " It may be," muttered the lawyer. " Ulster 
 dead ! " 
 
 " Once," the curate went on bubbling with news, 
 " a Guardsman rode out with his servant, and the 
 orderly stopped behind to tighten a girth. I helped 
 him. D'you know I smelt bread and real cold beef 
 in his wallet. He told me that the trades unions 
 have proclaimed a Republic — yes, at Manchester. 
 Then I asked him for some of the meat, and he was 
 so rude," 
 
 " The Republic proclaimed already ? Then Ulster 
 must be dead. My friend, do you realize what this 
 means ? The Republic ? It means that the Terri- 
 torials have revolted, five hundred thousand men in 
 arms against the Government." 
 
 "We have the Fleet." The curate lifted his 
 head and answered proudly. 
 
 " The Fleet, Mr. Parson ? And when the Re- 
 publicans seize the power station, when they cut off 
 
2o8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 the whole supply of electric force — what becomes 
 of your Fleet ? Answer me that ! " 
 
 " Oh, but my dear man, really, don't y'know, 
 we have Malta, Gibraltar, and the Newfoundland 
 station. They can all flash electric power to our 
 ships." 
 
 " If they had warning, yes ; but all the telegraphs 
 are cut. I tell you the power stations will be captured 
 this very day, and nothing can save the Fleet. I 
 wonder — when the London guardships founder, why, 
 we may get some food from the wrecks ! Yes, food ! 
 And the London Unionists, too — they'll be revolting 
 to-day — they'll attack the departments of State. 
 Parson, I know a house not far from here, with five 
 barrels of flour. There'U be no police to-day — 
 come on, let's rob that house ! " 
 
 " Rob a house ? " said the curate, wistfully. 
 " Oh, but I'm in Holy Orders, don't y'know." Then 
 rolling over exhausted, " My dear friend," he 
 whispered, " couldn't you bring me just a little 
 flour ? " 
 
 " I might," the barrister sneered, " and I might 
 not. All right, go off to sleep, don't mind me." He 
 looked round. " Hello, the boy's got that pigeon ! " 
 The barrister scrambled to his feet. " The little 
 
 brute ! " 
 
 He looked at the curate, who seemed to be asleep, 
 then at the street arab who was sucking the pigeon's 
 blood. He felt the parson's clothes for tobacco, but 
 his eyes were on the lad who had captured food. 
 
 Staggering with weakness he went for the street 
 arab, drawing a knife from his pocket. The lad 
 crouched unheeding, tearing the bird apart. The 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 209 
 
 barrister, staring dreadfully about him, stole upon 
 the lad, his knife ready, his lips twitching, his teeth 
 set. Then a rifle shot rang out from one of the 
 barricaded windows of St. Stephen's Palace, the 
 barrister leaped into the air, and fell doubled up 
 upon the pavement, his limbs relaxed, his mouth 
 wide open, One of his legs gave a last twitch 
 and he lay quite still. The street arab had run 
 away. 
 
 Then from a distance came the steady tramp of 
 marching men, and the curate seemed to wake at 
 the sound from a spell of sleep. He rose upon his 
 hands and knees, he tried to stand up, but he had 
 not the strength. He looked at the Palace, and 
 just opposite to him was a door which led into the 
 purlieus of the House of Lords. He crawled across 
 the pavement, lifted himself wearily up the low steps, 
 and banged with a stone against the door. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the tramp of men. 
 
 " Help ! " screamed the curate. " The Re- 
 pviblicans ! Save me ! Save me ! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 In the Council Chamber at the Queen's Palace, 
 my Lord Protector's Ministers were assembled. The 
 Duke of Ulster had warned them, the Princess 
 Margaret summoned them. Our Lady was to render 
 her submission, to repudiate the treason of John 
 Brand. 
 
 Then upon a flourish of trumpets, entered, not 
 his Grace of Ulster, but her Imperial Majesty attended 
 by a hundred gentlemen-at-arms. 
 
 Amid the consternation of Ulster's Ministers it 
 was the First Lord of the Admiralty who dared to 
 
 p 
 
210 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 come forward barring our Lady's passage to the 
 throne. 
 
 Waving his hands towards the foot of the table, 
 " Madam," he cried, " the place for the Princess 
 ]\Iargaret is here." 
 
 For a moment the Queen fell back, surprised at 
 old Lord Mendip's audacity, then her eyes glittered 
 ominously as she turned to the adjutant of the Guard. 
 
 " Tell this gentleman," she said, " to stand 
 aside." 
 
 So she swept on to the throne, and there turning, 
 faced her enemies. Our Lady was in mourning, 
 robed in a cloud of dusky violet silk, some folds of 
 it veiling her head and making the sad face white in 
 livid contrast. Verily she was Queen, if only by 
 right of sorrow, by majesty of pain, and by dominion 
 of men's love and worship. 
 
 " My lords," she said, nervously, " and gentle- 
 men," this with a gracious bow, and a smile of 
 welcome. " I am shy at having to meet you here 
 again — forgive that to a woman — here, where you 
 honoured me with — with your homage. Do you 
 remember, it was in this very room, and the gray 
 light stole in through the frost on those windows. 
 How bitterly cold it was, and I had just come from 
 where my dear father lay in death. Don't you 
 remember ? You, my Lord Mendip, cried ' Long 
 live Queen Margaret ! ' You, Mr. Jesmond, told me 
 how I must wear the terrible white crown, sit on 
 the stone of Destiny — and I cried. You, Sir Roderic 
 Scott, were first to kiss my hand — this hand which 
 has gone cold at the very thought of it. And after- 
 wards, in the Abbey, before the altar, you swore to 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 211 
 
 serve me — all of you. How have you kept that 
 oath ? " 
 
 The Ministers were standing in groups about the 
 table, whispering one to another behind their hands. 
 Lord Roderic Scott was inquiring of the impassive 
 Guards as to his Grace of Ulster, when once again the 
 Queen began to speak. 
 
 " You have come," this very gently, " to receive 
 — what are the words ? Yes, my repudiation of the 
 treason of Mr. Brand. There are some other things 
 mentioned, I think. Will you not sit down ? " 
 
 Reluctantly, one by one, the Ministers took their 
 seats in order of precedence. 
 
 " Thank you," said Margaret, "it is right that 
 you should sit, and that I stand until I have dealt 
 with this matter of treason. I am to repudiate 
 treason. Oh, my lords and gentlemen of the Imperial 
 Council, do you forget that by the Coronation oaths 
 I must do more than repudiate every treason ? I 
 am bound to punish treason, to punish treason with 
 death. And I am resolved this day, either to punish 
 all treason in my realm, or die in the attempt — yes, 
 die ! I know the cost. I have been honoured with 
 the service of many loyal men, and I have not failed 
 any of them in love or gratitude. I have only found 
 one strong friend in the whole world, and he is John 
 Brand. I have not failed him in love or in gratitude. 
 He has dared to be true, dared to be loyal, dared to 
 be my friend — and he has paid the price. He was 
 the richest man in the', world — who is so poor now ? 
 He was the most powerful subject that ever a 
 sovereign had — who is so fallen ? He was desper- 
 ately 'wounded fighting for me, he is a hunted 
 
212 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 outcast for my sake, and he is ready at any time 
 to die for me. 
 
 " The man who is guilty of treason must die, 
 or I refuse to live. 
 
 " You are wondering if I speak as the Princess 
 Margaret, or as Queen and Empress ? Well, for 
 the present I am content to be one concerned for 
 your honour, for your dignity. I have a letter 
 here — see, this letter — bearing all your signatures. 
 You wrote to me, twelve days ago — saying that a 
 Bill was passed by Parliament deposing Margaret, 
 appointing a Lord Protector, and tearing up the 
 British Constitution. It took hundreds of years to 
 create that Constitution, and it was destroyed in a 
 few minutes. Without consulting the people, or 
 their sovereign, the Parliament under your guidance 
 did this thing, then blind with panic, wriggled away 
 into dissolution, leaving its precious Bill to be dis- 
 honoured by all honest men. My lords and gentle- 
 men, how about your oath ? " 
 
 The Ministers were ill at ease, some passing 
 furtive notes one to another, the rest consulting in 
 whispers. 
 
 " You had the Lord Protector of your choice," 
 said Margaret, bitterly. " He once betrayed the 
 Indian Empire for a bribe, and laid the blame upon 
 an innocent man — who died for it. Lately he 
 divulged the Formula of the Fleets, gave shameful 
 concessions to his Russian master, and would sell 
 his Queen, even to such a buyer as Prince Alexander. 
 Nay, silence ! I command your silence, gentlemen, 
 while I speak. Proof piled on proof in Ulster's 
 own handwriting, condemns this felon. You are 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 213 
 
 waiting for him now to sit in judgment on me. So 
 you keep your oath ! 
 
 " You swore to be faithful to Ulster ? Why, 
 half of you wrote privately to me betraying him ! 
 And others of you in privy conspiracy, offered the 
 kingdom to my cousin Rupert — such is your honour ! 
 And having betrayed me, and betrayed Ulster, and 
 betrayed Prince Rupert, you came back here to 
 humble me, to punish me, to receive my abject sub- 
 mission, to demand my repudiation of John Brand ! 
 What a court of honour ! Do you know where 
 Rupert is— the Duke of Gloucester ? " 
 
 Our Lady was breathing deep, but not another 
 sound broke the silence until she spoke again. 
 
 " He is in Ulster's office, gentlemen. Your 
 letters to him are lying upon his breast, and lest 
 any of them be blown away by the wind, they are 
 pinned down with a sword. My cypher is inscribed 
 upon that blade. I am favoured, my lords and 
 gentlemen, that you are polite enough to hear me 
 now without whisperings or scribbling of notes, 
 while you await the Lord Protector's coming. Are 
 you wondering where next my sword will fall } Is 
 Ulster late ? " 
 
 Her Majesty ordered the barring of the doors. 
 " Where is your leader ? " she asked. " Are you 
 deserted by the chief of your rebelHon ? Let the 
 Guard salute ! " 
 
 The gentlemen of the Bodyguard presented arms, 
 and Margaret took the throne. 
 
 " Stand ! " she commanded, and in amazement 
 the Ministers obeyed. " I have to speak to you 
 concerning the action of my dear friend now at 
 
214 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 rest, Trooper of the Bodyguard, James, Marquess 
 of Sydney. 
 
 " By the hand of his own son, I have taken the 
 Duke of Ulster's Hfe for capital felony. Your Lord 
 Protector is dead, and I am Queen." 
 
 The Guard ordered and grounded arms with a 
 crash. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen," said Margaret, " I have 
 made an end to your delirium of treason. You 
 were once my people's chosen servants — who else 
 shall I trust if I may not believe in you ? I recall 
 you to your oaths, your patriotism, your honour, 
 your manhood. I ask you again to be my Ministers, 
 to accept my love and confidence. One of you I 
 except." And Margaret's eyes fell on Lord Roderic 
 Scott. " Oh, be kind to me, gentlemen," her voice 
 broke with a great sob. " I'd rather be a servant 
 and scrub floors, yet I am Queen — you laid that 
 burden on me, and I must reign until it pleases 
 Heaven to let me die. But must I go on fighting 
 all alone ? Is there no one left who cares for 
 England's honour ? " 
 
 For a moment there was silence, then the 
 First Lord, the aged Earl of Mendip, rose to 
 answer. 
 
 " Dear madam, dear sovereign, please let me 
 speak for my poor colleagues here, and comrades 
 in wrong-doing. I am too old to blush — my blood 
 is all needed at the heart which still beats only for 
 the service of the Empire — but I'm sure I never 
 dreamed I was such a villain. Your Majesty has 
 youthful blood, and dauntless courage, but pardon 
 me, not quite omniscient wisdom. Some vestiges 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 215 
 
 of right remain to us, some quivering nerves of 
 honour, even some shreds of manhood. 
 
 " In the evening of our lives we have had the 
 grace to worship the Evening Star, we called her 
 Margaret. The sun of our Finance was Mr. Brand. 
 It is no censure if I say that the sun was sometimes 
 rather hot for us. In a state of ecstasy, perhaps, he 
 fell from the heavens, came too near, and burned 
 us. Were we a little restive at being burned ? 
 Was it unnatural that, in the agony of a world 
 destroyed, we forgot our worship of the Evening 
 Star? 
 
 " Well, well, I shall pursue the metaphor no 
 further. Mr. Brand has gone with Ulster, and the 
 unfortunate Prince Rupert, to face a greater tribunal 
 than ours." 
 
 " He is not dead ! " cried Margaret. 
 
 " Stripped of his power, wounded, a fugitive " 
 
 " The man who saved the honour of the 
 Empire." 
 
 " The man who wrecked the world ! " 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " our Lady's white face was set 
 in stem defiance. "As he was loyal to me, so am 
 I Brand's loyal friend. I have sent the royal yacht 
 to succour him, and he will come back with his 
 ships to meet my enemies." 
 
 Lord Mendip bowed, " We are ready," he said, 
 
 *' to serve your Majesty, but " a rifle shot rang 
 
 out beyond the palace walls, then another and 
 another. 
 
 " But what ? " asked Margaret, scornfully. 
 
 " Madam, this Brand is an attainted traitor." 
 
 " Attainted by whom, pray ? " 
 
2i6 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Again there were rifle shots in the distance, a 
 dropping fire. 
 
 " Attainted, madam, by the Commonwealth." 
 
 " Am I not sovereign ? " 
 
 " Madam, I spoke with unbecoming fervour of 
 the gentleman who — his party, madam, the Labour 
 Party " 
 
 " His party ? Listen, my lord, to that firing ! 
 Is this a time for parties ? Lord Mendip, in the 
 peril of the State there is but one party — mine ! 
 You serve me as Brand serves me, or you are 
 rebels." 
 
 Sir Myles Strangford, Secretary for War, rose to 
 give answer. 
 
 " Your Majesty," cried the War Secretary, " we 
 are loyal. We will take the oath and serve ! " 
 
 " Sir ! " our Lady flushed with rage. " Do I hear 
 you speak of oaths ? " 
 
 For a moment her voice was drowned in a roar 
 of musketry. " My patience is at an end. Rupert 
 is dead, Ulster is dead ; shall I spare you ? I let 
 you live while you are loyal to me, and at the slightest 
 sign of treason I shall kill. As j'ou tore up the Con- 
 stitution, so I reign — I reign in the way of my fathers 
 — so long as there is danger, absolute Monarch. 
 Gentlemen of the Guard, you may withdraw — we 
 need no protection while our Council sits ! " 
 
 She rose from her throne, she turned her back 
 upon the Council, and so stood w^aiting until she 
 should be alone with her sullen, mutinous, vengeful 
 officers. They saw that she looked out through the 
 bayed windows ; not the tears which blinded her 
 or the forlorn gesture of her prayer for help. 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 217 
 
 The gentlemen-at-arms had swung to half sec- 
 tions and marched out from the chamber before our 
 Lady moved. These windows, from a high salient 
 of the Palace, commanded Whitehall. Half veiled 
 in mist, the departmental buildings flashed with a 
 thousand tiny points of fire, the rifle flame, the blaze 
 from heavy artillery, then the glare of exploding 
 shells. For now the crackling of musketry was 
 drowned by spitting, shrieking machine guns, and 
 the great roar of battle. 
 
 Sir Myles Strangford came and stood beside our 
 Lady's throne as though on guard. A shell screamed 
 close above the roof, a stray bullet crashed through 
 the window and almost grazing Margaret's hair, 
 lodged in the wall behind. 
 
 " Sir Myles," said our Lady, turning to the 
 Secretary for War, '■' can the Departments hold 
 out ? " 
 
 " Your Majesty, for Heaven's sake, take shelter." 
 
 " Are the Departments safe ? " she insisted, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I had eight hours' warning, madam. The 
 buildings can hold out until Lord Mendip's patrol 
 ships come to the rescue." 
 
 " I have called them, madam," old Mendip 
 touched his aerograph. " The Departments will be 
 relieved in an hour." 
 
 " These Republicans, Sir Myles — are there many 
 of them ? " 
 
 " Twenty-eight thousand," answered the Secre- 
 tary for War. " They're bringing up their batteries, 
 and certainly, madam, we depend on the ships." 
 
 The firing slackened now, and Margaret, returning 
 
2i8 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 to her seat, questioned Lord Mendip as to affairs in 
 the Midlands. It was true, he admitted, that the 
 Republicans had attacked the power station, and, 
 in the event of its capture, nothing could save the 
 Fleet. But the position was an impregnable fortress, 
 the Channel Squadron had been ordered north, and, 
 indeed, there was nothing to fear. 
 
 " Nothing to fear," our Lady muttered to herself. 
 " Nothing to fear. Then, my lord, are these Re- 
 publicans mad ? The Departments impregnable, the 
 power station impregnable, the ships expected ; on 
 these conditions the Republicans would never dare 
 to attack. They would not dare to attack unless 
 they knew the Fleet could be destroyed. They expect 
 to capture the power station ; they're sure of it — 
 they stake their lives on that. Are you sure. Lord 
 Mendip, of this power station ? " 
 
 " There's no stronger fortress in Europe." 
 
 " My lord, is any fortress proof against treachery ? 
 These rebels have staked their lives that the place 
 will be betrayed to them. Call up the officer 
 commanding." 
 
 The old lord, with tremulous fingers, signalled by 
 aerograph, but there was no answer. Again and 
 again he called, but there was no answer. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " I fear " 
 
 The aerograph began to be disturbed ; a rush of 
 signals hummed from its armature. 
 
 " Position mined — rebels in possession. Ground 
 the Fleet ! — Ground the Fleet ! — Ground the 
 Fleet ! " 
 
 " Oh, quick ! " cried Margaret, in agony. " Order 
 the ships to ground ! " 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 219 
 
 The First Lord, poor Mendip, had fallen back in 
 his chair, his white face convulsed, his fingers twitch- 
 ing and pulling in frenzy at the key of his instrument. 
 Our Lady rushed to his side, seized the aerograph 
 from him, begged him to dictate the orders to the 
 ships. And all the while, the old man striving for 
 utterance, the rest of the Ministers frantic to hear him 
 speak, the gun-fire quickened in the distance, and 
 some one was thundering for admittance outside the 
 door of the room. 
 
 " He's dying ! " Margaret's voice broke to a wail 
 of misery. " Oh, who knows the cypher of the 
 Fleet ? We'll be too late — too late ! " 
 
 The door burst open, an officer of the Bodyguard 
 broke headlong into the room. 
 
 " Madam," he yelled, " the ships — the destroyers 
 of the patrol are foundering ! " 
 
 Lord Mendip's head had fallen back, his fingers 
 were tearing at his breast, his eyes were glazing. 
 Then his arms fell limp, and the change passed over 
 his face, and the jaw dropped. 
 
 Our Lady bent and kissed the still dead face, then 
 reaching out her hand beckoned the living. 
 
 " Kneel, gentlemen," she said in a low, awed 
 voice. " Pray for the passing Fleet, for ninety 
 thousand men called by their God." 
 
 So they all knelt, our Lady, the adjutant of the 
 Guard, the Ministers of State, while outside, the 
 crash of musketry, the roar of guns thundered 
 the requiem of the English Fleet. Presently the 
 body of the old lord slipped down and fell before 
 Margaret's knees. Shrinking away, she went back 
 to her place upon the throne. 
 
220 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Some of the Ministers were moving to take away 
 the body, but our Lady checked them. 
 
 " No," she said, " do not take it away, but lay 
 it there before us upon the table." 
 
 They laid the frail body upon the table, paying 
 some reverent offices, closing the eyelids, folding 
 the hands. Shrinking from that presence, dreading, 
 fearing it, our Lady lifted her reluctant eyes. 
 
 " We need this reminder," she said faintly, 
 " that w'e are all being judged." 
 
 Then that swaggering, gallant, old Lord Roderic 
 Scott rose, bowing to her Majesty and to the 
 dead. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " the Fleet is gone, the 
 Departments may last an hour, and then the Re- 
 publicans will turn their guns upon this building. 
 If your Majesty is determined to wait, I trust we 
 shall all have the decency to die like gentlemen. 
 But I beg your Majesty to accept the use of my 
 private yacht, and return to Windsor until we can 
 raise an army." 
 
 " My dear Lord Roderic," our Lady smiled. 
 " What armies would care to light for a runaway 
 Government ? I think I have a better plan than 
 that. Sir Myles, I see you have troops here guarding 
 the Palace." 
 
 " Three thousand, madam, and a battery." 
 
 " You have not enough men to save both the 
 Departments and the Palace ? " 
 
 " Not nearly enough." 
 
 " But if we had all the troops here, we might 
 save the Palace ? " 
 
 " A desperate venture, madam." 
 
HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL 221 
 
 " So in any case the Departments must be 
 lost ? " 
 
 " Better, madam, to give up the Palace itself, 
 than to surrender the very seat of Government." 
 
 " The Palace," cried Sir Roderic, " is no safe 
 place for your Majesty." 
 
 " I beg you, madam," urged Jesmond, " to 
 retire." 
 
 " Why so nervous, gentlemen ? " asked Margaret, 
 bitterly. " I see anxiety in all your faces — so loyal, 
 so moved for my safety. Is it because you mined 
 my Palace with a hundred and fifty tons of dynamite ? 
 How thoughtful of you ! How considerate ! You 
 supplied me with explosives enough to mine all your 
 Departments of State ; for two days, gentlemen, I 
 have been considering your case. There, over by 
 the wall, on that little table, stands an electric key — 
 one touch on that key at any moment these two days 
 past would have released you all from these dull 
 cares of State. One of you — a gentleman seated at 
 this table — is the very leader of these Republicans, 
 His aerograph lies upon the table before him, and he 
 appears anxious to warn his friends by signalling." 
 Her Majesty's piercing stare was fastened upon none 
 other than Lord Roderic Scott. " Lord Roderic, 
 you will lower your hand, both hands, down against 
 your sides. Mr. Jesmond, you will take away his 
 aerograph. If he lifts his hands he dies. Sir Myles 
 Strangford, you will signal the officer commanding 
 at Whitehall to withdraw and fall back upon the 
 Palace, and you will order the troops here on guard 
 to cover the retreat." 
 
 * * 4: 4: :(: 
 
222 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Whitehall, a congeries of palaces, a city in itself 
 of unusual grandeur, had never seemed so vast as 
 when it loomed through the cloud of battle. Pale 
 wreaths of smoke girded the walls, columns of dust 
 went up from bursting shells, and little, innumerable 
 spurts of fire lightened the windows, outlined the 
 terraced roofs. A column of red flame waved high 
 above the Admiralty, and, shattered by artillery 
 from beyond the river, the Palace of St. Stephen's 
 crashed down in acres of ruin. One by one the 
 palaces were taken, barrier after barrier was broken 
 through as the brigades of starving Republicans, 
 mad with bloodshed, swept back the Imperial troops. 
 
 And all through the rooms and corridors, thou- 
 sands of people went about their business, in the 
 strange English way ; the clerks who still worked 
 at their desks or helped to bury the archives and 
 treasures of their departments ; the nurses, the 
 surgeons, the chaplains who helped the wounded, 
 gave comfort to the dying, closed the eyelids of the 
 dead ; the soldiers who fell back from the windows 
 to fight the advancing flames. 
 
 It was long past noon when the Queen's orders 
 came — the signal to retire upon her Palace. 
 
 Building after building was left to the next 
 triumphant rush of the enemy, until the Imperial 
 forces were jammed together at the Foreign Office, 
 guarding the non-combatants, and, under cover of 
 troops from the Palace, began the final movement of 
 retreat. It was but half a mile to the Palace gates 
 along Death's Avenue. 
 
 Up against the windows of the Council Chamber, 
 nearer and nearer lashed the hurricane of sound — 
 
HER xMAJESTY IN COUNCIL 223 
 
 the yells of dying men, the rattle of musketry, 
 scream of machine guns, roar of artillery, crash of 
 falling walls, and, beyond all, the deep dull roar of 
 the conflagration. 
 
 Within the Council Chamber the great lords of 
 the administration sat still at their table. Before 
 them all lay the body of the old Lord Mendip, the 
 green cloth of the table casting a dreadful glow upon 
 his face. By the left hand there was placed an 
 electric key with covered wires trailing to the floor, 
 and opposite to that two Ministers sat guarding Sir 
 Roderic Scott, a prisoner. Bolt upright in the chair 
 of state, our Lady never moved save once, when she 
 covered her face with one fold of silken gauze from 
 the hood of her violet robe. 
 
 Sir Myles Strangford at the windows reported 
 from time to time how the battle went. 
 
 " Shot down like dogs," he cried. " Nurses, 
 civilians, clergy, and broken troops, offtcers beating 
 the poor fellows with their swords — and the retreat — 
 by George they're falling by hundreds. The whole 
 avenue jammed." For a moment his voice was 
 drowned by the uproar. 
 
 " The rear guard's clear of the Department ! " 
 
 Her Majesty leaned forward. " Lord Roderic 
 
 Scott," she cried, " reach forward your right hand 
 
 and touch that key ! Mr. Jesmond, take the knife 
 
 and drive it into that man's flesh until he obeys me. 
 
 Now, Roderic Scott, reach out your right hand, 
 
 and lay it on the key ! and may God have mercy 
 
 on your soul ! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 And the river rushed in upon the site of Whitehall. 
 
XVIII 
 
 THE queen's madness 
 
 This poor history book ! It set out to chronicle the 
 affairs of all mankind, and has only room for one 
 woman. 
 
 So a boy goes forth into the world strong, care- 
 less, jubilant, thinking the Earth, the lights of 
 Heaven, the dark of Space, all made on purpose to 
 be a playground for him. But an old man looks 
 back with his wan smile of memory, and sees that 
 the sun, moon, and stars made but an aureole for one 
 mighty love. 
 
 Let the old man maunder a little at the heads of 
 the chapters — you may be an old fool, too, before 
 you have turned the last sad page in the dear Book 
 of Life. 
 
 Except for some who foully revile Brand, 
 the learned historians lay all the blame on 
 Margaret. 
 
 Learning has chilled the blood in their sluggish 
 veins, conceit of their knowledge given them scaly 
 hides, and their blind logic made them sinuous, 
 these bookworms, who with exuding venom have 
 fastened their poisonous teeth on Margaret's fame. 
 She sheltered Brand, staked crown, reputation, life 
 upon the hazard of her faith in him. She had Prince 
 
 224 
 
THE QUEEN'S MADNESS 225 
 
 Rupert slain, the Dictator slain, and the metro- 
 politan chiefs of the Republic slain. The seat of 
 treasonous revolt against her she cleansed with the 
 waters of the Thames. Aye, and more, she reigned 
 as no sovereign in modern times had ever dared to 
 reign. We were lost in the night of despair, we 
 fought in the maelstrom of Death, but the memory 
 of that time is the memory of one white spirit, pure 
 and strong, whom no waves of misfortune could over- 
 whelm, or mist of anguish hide. We were men-at- 
 arms who worshipped Margaret then, and those that 
 are left of us are old fools now, fearful lest any 
 venom so much as touch her robe. 
 
 In these days there were two or three attempts 
 made by insane persons upon her Majesty's life. At 
 the petition then of the whole corps of the Body- 
 guard she appointed orderlies for close attendance 
 upon her person, choosing the two nearest friends of 
 my Lord Sydney, Sergeant Dymoke to be on duty 
 in the day time. Trooper Browne at night. Her 
 Majesty was pleased also to confer upon Trooper 
 Browne the honour of Knighthood in the order of 
 St. Michael and St. George. 
 
 It was after midnight — how we missed the bells 
 of faUen Westminster — and Trooper Sir Patrick 
 Browne, faint with excess of pride, stood in a vain 
 pose by the door of the private rooms. He was 
 startled out of all his dignity when, the door opening, 
 he found himself of a sudden face to face with her 
 Majesty. 
 
 " Hush ! " our Lady pressed a finger of warning 
 to her lips. " There," she cautiously shut the door. 
 " I'm afraid of waking Miss Temple. Follow softly.' ' 
 
 9 
 
226 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 So gathering her white cloak, she sped like a 
 ghost, he following, to the south-west tower. Not 
 stairs but inclined planes circled upwards, an easy 
 hill, to where a flight of steps gave on the roof, and 
 one looked out over London. 
 
 This night began the great gale, and already, far 
 down beneath, the trees were lashing and swaying. 
 Low above trailed the flame-lighted clouds, the wind 
 was roaring round the tower walls, and red embers 
 flashed past in the smoke. The gale swept by in 
 gusts, fiery hot, then of a sudden, icy cold, then 
 slanting hot again. Right up against the wind, 
 Belgravia was in flames, and down to leeward, the 
 whole district of the Strand glowed like a furnace. 
 Spiral columns of flame went reeling eastwards, then 
 lifting clear from their base, rolled up and burst. 
 And over all the roar of wind and fire one heard the 
 screaming machine guns crushing out the Republican 
 revolt. 
 
 " Madam," cried the trooper, " come away, this 
 is too horrible for any woman." 
 
 " For any woman ? Sir Patrick, are there not 
 thousands of women yonder ? " Our Lady turned, 
 the flame-light on her face. " Do you think I care ? 
 Do you think I suffer ? Dear lad," she turned away 
 again with a wan little laugh, " I don't care now, 
 I'm an old, old woman — past caring any more. Let 
 me rest here." 
 
 The trooper laid his cloak in a sheltered place, 
 and there for a long time she sat, crouched down, all 
 shrunk into the corner, staring at the flames. 
 
 Was this the Margaret who seven weeks ago held 
 court of Love in her gardens. Queen of the May, 
 
THE QUEEN'S MADNESS 227 
 
 loading grave officers of the Palace with wreaths and 
 garlands, then with the mischievous gravity of a fairy, 
 tootling a jig on the pan pipes while the Lord Great 
 Chamberlain danced ! 
 
 Margaret crouched down in a corner, haggard 
 with sleepless misery, staring with great wild eyes on 
 the burning of London ! 
 
 The sentries were calling from salient to salient, 
 bastion to bastion. 
 
 " Number one, all's well ! " 
 " Number two, all's well ! " 
 " Number three, all's well ! " 
 Then faintly in the distance of the gardens, 
 " Number four, all's well ! " Forty-five gentlemen 
 of the corps had fallen in the confused fighting of 
 these last two days ; many more had been sent away 
 by yacht, or by road with messages on the business 
 of the State. How we grudged every man who was 
 taken away from guarding Margaret. We all had 
 our private troubles — those who were dear to us did 
 not escape ruin and hunger, and one trooper who 
 visited his home, came back to the Palace insane. 
 These matters we kept to ourselves, but there was 
 an understanding in the mess that each man must 
 keep his life at our Lady's service so long as she had 
 need of the Guard. 
 
 This had been midsummer day, the longest in 
 all the year ; but Margaret was at work from dawn 
 to dusk, and her Ministers had barely time for food. 
 
 The Departments of State found themselves 
 quarters in the Palace, and the Postmaster-General 
 contrived the telegraphs, some sort of money was 
 
228 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 arranged for the public — what kind of currency 
 mattered nothing now, A power station was got 
 to work in the Midlands so that electric shipping 
 was able to take the air. The Fleet reserve was 
 mobilized, and the royal yacht squadron assembled. 
 The railways were seized, and a service of trains 
 commenced. The Imperial army began to con- 
 centrate upon London, regiment after regiment, 
 brigade after brigade being quartered and fortified 
 to protect the main supplies of food. 
 
 And so her Majesty began to reign. The fallen 
 lifted their eyes, those who despaired ventured to 
 think and to hope, those who w^ere weak had strength 
 to work for her, the wounded forgot their pain, the 
 stricken their bereavement, the mourners their dead, 
 and dying England lived for Margaret. 
 " Number one, all's well ! " 
 " All's well." 
 " All's well." 
 " All's well." 
 
 Was our Lady asleep there in her corner ? The 
 trooper from his furthest side of the pavement, 
 glanced through the corner of one eye, just daring 
 to see her white robe shine against the black of his 
 cloak upon the flags. He had not courage to really 
 look at her, even if she slept, but paced his beat 
 slowly from end to end, nine paces, and nine paces, 
 inventing conversation all the time in which he 
 made her seem to speak to him. 
 
 Somebody was coming up within the tower, and 
 Browne at the stairhead waited ready to fire, A 
 man ? — the trooper boiled over at his insolence. Sir 
 Myles Strangford, indeed ! 
 
THE QUEEN'S MADNESS 229 
 
 " Get down," he whispered hoarsely. " Our Lady 
 is here. Get down with you ! " 
 
 " Who is it ? " asked her Majesty. " What— Sir 
 Myles ? Don't go." 
 
 " Madam, forgive me," Sir Myles bowed to her. 
 " I didn't know. Let me retire." 
 
 " No, stay. Sir Myles." 
 
 " Madam," he bowed again, " I couldn't sleep." 
 
 " Nor I. Come, sit in the shelter here and talk 
 to me." 
 
 The Secretary for War sat down at our Lady's 
 feet. " Tried to drug myself," he said frankly ; 
 " daren't take another drop — and sleep ! How 
 could I sleep ? " 
 
 " It's not for you or for me," said Margaret. 
 " ' And so He giveth His beloved sleep ' — only His 
 beloved, you see — not for us." 
 
 " Madam, I can't stand it ; I won't stand it," 
 he spoke in breathless haste. " I don't care if you 
 kill me for saying it. This declaration of war is 
 impossible." 
 
 " I expelled Prince Alexander from the Palace ; 
 I gave the Ambassadors from Russia, France and 
 Germany all their passports ; I recalled my Am- 
 bassadors ; I declared war," she turned upon the 
 statesman. " You, Sir Myles, have the frankness 
 and courage to protest, and you had the loyalty to 
 obey." 
 
 " I behaved like a madman," he cried. " The 
 Fleet is lost, the army is perishing." 
 
 " And the nation," said Margaret, " tearing itself 
 to pieces. See there — all that — look ; those are my 
 people murdering each other like mad beasts ! What 
 
230 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 would my fathers, the Kings, have done with them ? 
 Do I love my people less than those old kings who 
 called with the bale fires and the trumpets — To 
 arms ! To arms ! Bring your swords and save 
 England ! To-night, Sir Myles, all over the length 
 and breadth of the Kingdom, my trumpets and 
 bugles are sounding the call to arms. The old, old 
 patriotism — the dear love never fails. There will be 
 no factions to-morrow, but England, Britain, the 
 Empire, ready to fight for the flag ! " 
 
 " And you a woman ! Madam ! " 
 
 " And I, a woman. Sir Myles. I am something 
 come down through many centuries — flesh and bone, 
 blood and nerves, soul, spirit, made that I may suffer 
 for my people. I am not a statesman, not a man, 
 but a weak, miserable woman — and I am England. 
 I know you may think it madness to declare war with 
 the League, having neither Fleet nor troops — I know ! 
 Come, put it to the proof. No fleet, you say ? The 
 ports are jammed with deep-sea shipping, the arsenals 
 crowded with good aerial ships of the Fleet reserve, 
 the country teems with yachts of the royal yacht 
 squadrons." 
 
 " But, madam, the very Formula of the Fleets 
 was betrayed." 
 
 " We can change the Formula now." 
 
 " But the power station is gone." 
 
 " We'll use the mercantile stations." 
 
 " But the Fleets of the League ! Madam, this 
 is sheer madness." 
 
 " Sir Myles ; call it madness. You will remember 
 that Brand's ships in every part of the Kingdom were 
 seized by Ulster's orders." 
 
THE QUEEN'S MADNESS 231 
 
 " I remember, madam." 
 
 " I never forgot. Brand is my servant, and do 
 you think I have let his sailors starve to death in 
 my prisons ? No. The General Superintendent of 
 Prisons, by my direct commands, had loads of pro- 
 visions supplied to feed those men. I have saved 
 them alive. You remember that Ulster seized one 
 ship — the Golden Hind ? " 
 
 " And became invincible ! " 
 
 " God is invincible," said Margaret. 
 
 " Madam, how many ships ? " 
 
 " I have eleven — the crews are released to-night ; 
 the ships will assemble here at sunrise. How are 
 the Fleets of the League to fight etheric rams ? " 
 
XIX 
 
 THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 
 
 Now for the tale of the Dun Horse, and Lancaster's 
 great ride from Lyonesse. 
 
 There was no electric power for travel either by 
 airship, road, or rail. It was hard without money 
 to buy petrol for a car, or drive one over the broken 
 roads, of districts where there was fighting. A big 
 bay mare brought Lancaster through Cornwall, and 
 fell dead at his farm near Tiverton in Devon, the 
 place where the dun horse lived. 
 
 Oregon's colour was like the tawny, sunscorched 
 grass of the great American Desert from whence he 
 came. Such lion-coloured hide had hidden his 
 ancestors from the ranging tigers, three hundred 
 thousand years ago when the world was young. 
 Down the back and across withers and shoulders 
 ran dark brown stripes — the famous endurance lines, 
 making the figure of the cross. This, again was a 
 cast-back to a Zebra-striped ancestry of a hundred 
 thousand generations gone. He stood fifteen hands, 
 a pony like Alexander's Bucephalus or Napoleon's 
 grey Marengo. His eyes were mad, his ears vicious, 
 his hoofs hard as iron, his gait a rolling lope, tail and 
 mane all streaming gold, his neck august, his pride im- 
 tameable. It stirs one's blood to remember Oregon. 
 
 232 
 
THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 233 
 
 The dawn was breaking when Lancaster saddled 
 the dun staUion ; and that was the third day of the 
 gale, and burning of London, the Fifteenth of the 
 Terror. 
 
 In all their rain washed length, the roads showed 
 scarcely any sign of traffic, but Oregon shied at many 
 a car lying abandoned by the wayside, at the skeletons 
 of cattle slaughtered and stripped to the last ounce 
 of meat by bands of starving outlaws from the towns, 
 sometimes at some poor shapeless heap in the ditch 
 which had to be passed at full speed. Trees had been 
 blown down across the causeway, branches and leaf- 
 age littered by the gale. That which was fallen lay. 
 In the hollow lands the road was washed out or 
 flooded, the newly mown hay lay swamped in the 
 sodden fields, and the young crops beaten flat. The 
 farmers were roughly fortified— every place where 
 there was food had become a stronghold, and the 
 live-stock driven out to pasture went always under an 
 armed guard for fear of marauders. In these days, the 
 folk knew why their old and long-neglected churches 
 had been so built upon high ground, with such de- 
 fensible towers to carry balefires, and loopholed 
 belfries for alarm bells. The village churches re- 
 turned to their ancient use as forts of refuge both for 
 body and spirit. That is why Lancaster found the 
 village streets abandoned, and the streets of the 
 market towns a solitude. 
 
 The ages had rolled back, from the twentieth 
 century even to the tenth ; once again upon the law- 
 less highways the robber bands were out to pillage 
 and burn. Once again all honest men went armed, 
 the farms were strongholds, the churches forts of 
 
234 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 refuge. Once again an English knight rode a war-horse 
 of the ancient kind, wore the old chain mail, fought 
 with a lone sword, and dared all for a lost cause. 
 
 Have the red roses of Lancaster ever failed from 
 the thorns of our gardens ? Has the royal blood 
 ceased to throb in English hearts ? The ancient 
 roots are still alive to-day, through decades of 
 centuries the time-honoured chivalry of this dear 
 realm flowers perennial from the ancient soil. The 
 English archers, the English mariners, the English 
 engineers — time changes the instruments, not the 
 English hand. And that the heir apparent of the 
 Imperial Throne rode three hundred miles in forty 
 hours, is testimony that England is England still 
 beyond the accident of the centuries. 
 
 Lancaster had been badly hurt in the fight with 
 the Gigantic, and now, after eleven days of neglect, 
 the wrench and bad contusions on his near shoulder 
 made him delirious with pain. 
 
 Ranges of hills to cross, and floods to ford, by 
 dip and curve, by tortuous-winding vales, field, 
 woodland, park, and moor, the road went swinging 
 on. There were cathedral cities by the way, great 
 country seats, commons of golden gorse, old road-side 
 inns, orchard-screened villages. The young Prince 
 saw nothing but the course, felt nothing but his pain, 
 knew nought but his errand, his mission to the Queen. 
 Wet to the skin he felt no cold or any discomfort 
 from the lashing rain, but in his fever and delirium, 
 dreamed, talked to himself, crooned songs, or followed 
 imaginary hounds. He could not remember after- 
 wards how he found the way, where he had baited 
 Oregon, where fed or rested. 
 
THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 235 
 
 It was sunset when he cantered down through 
 Reading, the dun horse reehng— and forty miles to 
 go. Red shone the glare through a gap in the wind- 
 torn clouds, red was the glow on mire-stained horse 
 and man, red on the sky to eastward where London 
 lay. Two hours later he had traversed the outer 
 suburbs and entered Windsor. Still was the red 
 glow lingering in the east. He was passed through 
 the castle gate and in the outer ward he rested 
 Oregon. The Governor held his stirrup when he left, 
 the Governor's wife gave him a stirrup cup, the poor 
 knights of Windsor— seventeen old men, sending 
 their message of love to Margaret. 
 
 So Lancaster crossed the Thames and entered 
 London. The dun horse kept his splendid rolling 
 lope, but drooped his head and jarred his rider now— 
 with yet another twenty miles to go. The elms of 
 Eton were swaying overhead, there were the playing 
 fields, yonder the school— and Lancaster's heart was 
 singing. As Oregon splashed by, he waved his 
 helmet— a red gleam caught the silver. He turned 
 into a long, dark avenue, villas on either hand, 
 screened by young plane trees — lightless, desolate. 
 Then followed mile after mile of town more lonely 
 than the fields ; street after street, dead, silent, 
 horrible, and always the red glow quickened in the 
 east. Was it the dawn already, the dawn breaking 
 on an abandoned world ? 
 
 Out of the vague night ahead, massed roofs 
 went up stark to the flushed red jagged driv- 
 ing clouds, when a man started out of the 
 shadows close ahead— an old grey man in a priest's 
 cassock, brandishing a red-edged crucifix. Oregon 
 
236 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 shied ; then, under lash of spurs, reared up pawing 
 the air. 
 
 " Beware ! " shrieked the priest. " Beware ! 
 Babylon is fallen — Babylon the Great is fallen — is 
 fallen ! The scarlet whore reigns yonder, and 
 vengeance descends from Heaven on her crimes. 
 You're riding headlong to destruction ! Back ! " 
 
 The trooper lashed his horse with the flat of his 
 sword, and far away behind him heard the cry, 
 " Babylon is fallen — is fallen ! " 
 
 The pools were red, the mire was red, the wide 
 street red as blood under an immensity of glowing, 
 rolling smoke, and ever in front the near horizons 
 lifted against great heaps of flame. Down a bye- 
 street to the left a house burned furiously, but the 
 pavement in front of it was empty. Hollow echoes 
 rang to the horse's tramp, but the vacant silence 
 ahead showed never a sign of man. Was the lost 
 capital wholly abandoned ? 
 
 Here a row of shops had been sacked, their wares 
 thrown wide across the roadway. Beyond, the street 
 was blocked with acres of ruins, and circling round 
 back ways to find a passage, Lancaster heard gun 
 shots, saw the flicker of torches ; then, turning a 
 corner, came suddenly upon a blood-stained drunken 
 mob plundering houses. Spoil was scattered every- 
 where ; dead men and drunk sprawled on the litter ; 
 tables were spread upon the pavement ; orators w^re 
 wrangling over their wine — a Republican court in 
 session for the trial of three gentlewomen, who stood 
 in drenched night-robes lashed together with ropes. 
 
 Lancaster charged that court, rode the judges 
 under, cut them down, forgot his message to the 
 
THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 237 
 
 Queen, forgot the saving of the gentlewomen, 
 vaguely supposed that the fight was a dream to be 
 enjoyed, and went on slaughtering. He was sur- 
 rounded, he was attacked on all sides ; men were 
 firing upon him from the houses on all sides — then 
 something struck off his helmet, blinding his eyes, and 
 Oregon, maddened with the burning pain of a torch 
 against his flank, broke away screaming at a headlong 
 gallop. 
 
 :^ :{: H( H< :): 
 
 The empty street reached away between gaunt, 
 enormous ruins under a sky of flame and roaring 
 thunder, when Lancaster reined Oregon to a walk, 
 borne slowly forward by a hurricane of wind ; wiped 
 the blood from his eyes, and, looking about him, 
 knew that this was Knightsbridge. A body of 
 cavalry swung down through the gates of the park, 
 wheeled half-right, and broke to a trot directly 
 athwart his course, their silver armour glowing with 
 ruby light — a squadron of the Guard. 
 
 4fr * * * * 
 
 " Let death seize upon them, and let them go 
 down quick into hell. For wickedness is in their 
 dwellings." 
 
 Miss Temple was reading at our Lady's bedside, 
 and her voice went on slowly, monotonously through 
 the terrible minatory Psalms. 
 
 " Break their teeth, God, in their mouths. 
 Break out the great teeth of the young lions." 
 
 " Dear me," said Margaret, in her pillows ; " how 
 dreadfully uncomfortable." 
 
 " Not asleep yet ? " asked the old woman, 
 reproachfully. 
 
238 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Not asleep yet " ; Margaret uttered a quivering 
 sigh. " Please, dearest, draw all the curtains back. 
 If I could see the windows, I wouldn't think I was in 
 the grave — that would be better." 
 
 Miss Temple laid her Bible reverently aside ; 
 then moving slowly across the room, drew back the 
 curtains. The wreck of Whitehall had shattered 
 all the glass, and now the windows were filled with 
 oiled paper. The scarlet glare of the night shone 
 fiercely in, the wind of the fire roared like a storm at 
 sea. Miss Temple came back to her place, and our 
 Lady reached out one shaking hand to feel a little 
 comfort from her touch. 
 
 " Dearest," she whispered, " do you believe in 
 ghosts ? " 
 
 " We are forbidden," answered the governess, 
 " to have any dealings with the departed." 
 
 " Hush, dearest ; there's no need to be rude to 
 these poor spirits, wrenched so suddenly fron their 
 bodies, taken all by surprise, shy at appearing 
 undressed as it were, and they come here to see if 
 their Queen cares. They come and go all night long, 
 my dead ; and they would think me so heartless if 
 they found me asleep. I must not speak to them — 
 that would be wrong — but they may hear me telling 
 you that I care — I care — I care, and they will tell 
 all the dead that I care." 
 
 " Child," said Miss Temple, fearfully, " don't 
 think of such things. It's horrible." 
 
 " That they should die, and I not even mourn ? 
 You wouldn't have me a coward, dearest, would 
 you ? If I didn't care, if I didn't mourn, why all 
 these millions of the dead would come to haunt 
 
THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 239 
 
 me, to accuse me. Am I not guilty of their 
 blood ! " 
 
 " You saved the honour of England." 
 " And at what a price ! What is the honour of 
 England ! It's like some awful heathen god, whose 
 altar runs with blood, the blood of innocent men, 
 and women like you and me, and little children. 
 How can you talk of our honour ! I wish — how I 
 wish — if I had only known. If it were all to do 
 again I'd let Ulster sell us body and soul to Russia, 
 drag our honour in the mud, set up our shame 
 where every one could see, and call the shame 
 salvation. Yes, I would rather marry Alexander, 
 or be torn to pieces, or burned at the stake, than 
 pay the price of honour." 
 
 When Miss Temple needed guidance, it was her 
 custom to open her Bible, take a passage at random, 
 and then with fiendish ingenuity twist the text into 
 agreement with her own views. From the most 
 unpromising materials she got the most surprising 
 results. Now the pages fell apart in II. Samuel, and 
 when her eye lit upon " Elhanan the son of Dodo," 
 with a small local directory to follow, she felt rather 
 ill-used. Turning resentfully, she came upon the 
 pedigree in I, Chronicles. She had to fall back on 
 general principles, and flashed her indignant eyes 
 on Margaret. 
 
 Margaret was asleep. All curled up, her dear 
 head resting on one outstretched arm, fairily delicate 
 she lay at peace. The lines of sorrow were smoothed 
 away, her eyes — a moment ago so big, so dark with 
 horror — were veiled now with the eyelids of a child. 
 Down through the lurid shadow of the room, 
 
240 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 flamelight played and flickered, glowed on the ivory 
 pallor of her skin, and made a dainty mimicry of 
 health. She seemed the Margaret of other days. 
 Queen of the May, our Lady of the Spring, before love 
 kindled and grief aged her heart. 
 
 Hush ! The child sleeps, and the woman must 
 wake to pain. 
 
 If you would know the measure of a woman, 
 judge not by her virtues, neither by her sins — God 
 will judge these. How much did she love ? How 
 much did men worship her ? The love that men bore 
 to Helen, Cleopatra, Guinevere, illumine the history 
 of nations, as it changed the rhythm of their times. 
 How have men worshipped Elizabeth, and Victoria, 
 and Margaret, each in her time, the Queen of all 
 men's love ? The conquerors laid Empires at their 
 feet. The holy ideal of chivalric worship inspired 
 the noblest literature, the highest art and the pro- 
 foundest learning. Whole eras are illuminated by 
 the glamour and the glory of such unselfish homage, 
 that could bind men together, sweeten the common 
 life, sanctify duty, and make death a rite. 
 
 Hush ! England sleeps ! The spirits of the 
 slain, hovering in the flamelight and the lurid green- 
 grey shadows, are pleading to God that He will have 
 compassion on the Queen. 
 
 With savage satisfaction. Miss Temple watched. 
 Margaret asleep at last ! For a minute, for two 
 minutes, then our Lady's voice rang loud through 
 the room. 
 
 " Lyonesse ! " she cried. " Lyonesse ! " And 
 starting broad awake, lifted herself in the bed, her 
 gaunt face beaded with sweat, her dark eyes staring 
 
THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 241 
 
 broad awake. Then she fell back with a moan, and 
 clutched at Miss Temple's hands, and held them fast. 
 " Oh, why did you let me sleep ? " she whispered. 
 " I fought so hard to keep awake." 
 
 " You must have sleep or you'll lose your senses, 
 child." 
 
 " I dared not sleep," said Margaret, trembling, 
 " lest I should see him dead ! " 
 
 " Margaret, these fancies are dangerous." 
 
 " This is the fourth time, dearest. He was in a 
 little ship, so small you could have put it in this 
 room, and far down underneath, river, and lake, and 
 forest streaming past. He was all alone, the blood- 
 stained bandage loose about his head, and he lay in 
 his harness dead, except for his eyes. Only his eyes 
 were alive watching me, speaking to me." 
 
 Miss Temple read the rest in Margaret's eyes, and 
 turned her face away lest the Queen should see. 
 
 Even as the desert hungers for the rain, so 
 Margaret craved for Brand. She could not tell Miss 
 Temple that she loved him ; the wise old governess 
 pretended not to know, and thus the secret was 
 shared by two sweet women with delicate reticence 
 and understanding, marred by no words while every 
 word would hurt. 
 
 " Dearest," our Lady whispered, " did you ever 
 love ? " 
 
 " Love ! " Miss Temple's eyes went red. 
 " What's love to me ? Is this a time to think of 
 love — to talk of love ? Get to your prayers, child, 
 this is no time for love." 
 
 But our Lady urged her again. " Dearest, were 
 you ever in love ? " 
 
 R 
 
242 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " In Heaven," Miss Temple was angry, " there's 
 neither marrying nor giving in marriage. The sun 
 will be darkened, the moon shall not give her light, 
 the powers of Heaven shall be shaken, the earth 
 shall quake, the mountains shall jail, the heavens 
 shall roll away like a scroll before the great and 
 terrible day of the Lord. This is a time for fasting, 
 vigils, humiliation, prayer, not for profane thoughts 
 of love." 
 
 Margaret lay back among the pillows, releasing 
 Miss Temple's hand. 
 
 " I'm tired," she said, " so tired." 
 
 Then of a sudden she started up alert, listening 
 intently, her eyes upon the door, at which the old 
 lady grumbled, asking what was the matter. 
 
 " Don't you hear ? " 
 
 " The roar of fire, child, there's nothing else." 
 
 " But I hear somebody coming — hush — listen." 
 
 " The fall of some building perhaps." 
 
 " There's somebody coming for me. I tell you 
 somebody is coming — from Lyonesse — from him. 
 Hark ! There are footsteps." 
 
 " Trooper Browne in the corridor. Be still, child ; 
 lie down and rest." 
 
 But indeed there were footsteps, sounds of 
 scuffling, of men disputing, and then the throwing 
 open of a door. Through the length of the suite of 
 rooms, Browne's voice rang out in warning. 
 
 " Madam," he shouted, " I could not hold him 
 back ! " 
 
 Men were trampling heavily through the rooms ; 
 even as her Majesty came down from the bed, the 
 door of her chamber burst open — a man came reeling 
 
THE TALE OF THE DUN HORSE 2^3 
 
 in, a trooper of the Guard, although his silver armour, 
 rusted black, was drenched and stained with rain and 
 mire, his face a mask of blood. He shouted hoarsely 
 at the sight of her, then two Guardsmen following 
 caught him in their arms, but he, struggling violently, 
 broke away from them and fell at her very feet 
 insensible. 
 
 Her Majesty knelt down beside the man, and full 
 of pity lifted his bleeding head. 
 
 Sergeant Branscombe, standing at the salute, 
 begged for the Queen's forgiveness. 
 
 " Madam," he pleaded, " we could not hold him 
 back." 
 
 But she, in her white robe kneeling beside the 
 man, pressed her small hands upon the spurting 
 wound. 
 
 " Who is he ? " she asked, " Oh, surely not — 
 my cousin, Lancaster ! He will die ! He will die ! " 
 
 " He is alive," Miss Temple's hands pressed 
 hard upon his breast. " Quick, Sergeant Brans- 
 combe, water. You, trooper, bring the surgeon. 
 What's this ? " She found a strip of paper under the 
 gorget. " A letter ! Margaret, this is from Lyonesse ! " 
 
 And Margaret read the message. 
 
 " In five days more I'll come with my ships. 
 
 " John Brand." 
 
XX 
 
 VICTORY 
 
 " In five days more I'll come with my ships." 
 
 Five days had passed since Brand's promise 
 reached the Queen, it was the twenty-first of the 
 Terror, and the master was not come. 
 
 Trooper Browne had been on duty all night, 
 slept through the morning, and now at two in 
 the afternoon came hungry to the mess-room for 
 luncheon. The tables were gone since daybreak, 
 surgeons and nurses had taken possession, the 
 pavement, the aisles, even the triforium gallery, 
 were crowded with the beds of the sick and the 
 dying taken from the streets. In the ante-chamber 
 he found some biscuits, and with these and a glass 
 of water fled to the guard-room. 
 
 That beautiful gallery was at least unchanged, 
 its precious columns of azurite and malachite 
 reflected in the polished slabs of the floor. The 
 alabaster stairs came up from the portico, and went 
 on to the chambers of state, now turned into hospital 
 wards and Government offices. One man was on 
 guard, Sergeant Jack Branscombe, fat, lazy old Jack 
 sole garrison of the Palace, and him Bro\^^le relieved 
 that he might get his breakfast. So the trooper 
 sat on a bench eating biscuits, and watched the 
 
 244 
 
VICTORY 245 
 
 endless procession of sufferers being carried past 
 upon the stairway. 
 
 One man on guard ! Of the two hundred 
 gentlemen-at-arms, and their two hundred orderlies, 
 only seventy were left — all as brothers now — to 
 ride with her Majesty. She would come back with 
 her riders at four o'clock, tired out, and here on the 
 table stood a gold cup, and a flagon of wine left 
 by Miss Temple, for our Lady's refreshment. 
 
 Stealthily Browne lifted the cup, and pressed 
 his lips against the rim. Even as he did that a 
 little chuckle sounded close at his elbow — so start- 
 lingly like our Lady's laugh that he set down the 
 cup in haste. 
 
 " Caught red-handed," said Tom of Lancaster, 
 and sitting down on the bench, laid a white hand 
 on Browne's knee. " My dear Browne, you must 
 not poison her cup, even with kisses." 
 
 Browne grinned nervously, " Good morning, 
 sir," he said, his eyes on Lancaster's deathly white 
 face, " the doctor said you'd be in bed for months." 
 
 " Doctor's a fool," said Lancaster, then very 
 faintly added — " Give me some of that wine." 
 
 Browne drank the water in his glass, and filled 
 it with wine from the flagon. 
 
 " Here, sir." 
 
 " Drop that ' sir,' " said the young Prince, then 
 with a sigh as he set down the empty glass, " How 
 is she to-day ? " 
 
 " Slept heartily these four nights, so Miss Temple 
 says. She looks herself again since you came. 
 Prince, with your message." 
 
 .'* Prince ! I wish you fellows would drop that 
 
246 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 rot, and let me be a trooper. My name's Tom, and 
 I'm as good as any man in the crowd. So the 
 message cheered her up ? " 
 
 " Saved her reason, I think." 
 
 " Browne," the Prince turned round with a 
 short, sharp laugh, " you're in love with her. Bah, 
 you flush like a girl — of course, you're in love with 
 her. So am I, man, and the rest of the fellows are 
 just as bad or worse. What's the use of trying to 
 hide what hurts. Does it make the thing hurt 
 less ? She's not for us. 
 
 " She and Brand are in love, and by my honour, 
 Browne, I'm glad, yes glad. That man is royal, 
 the real thing, which I'm not. By our Lady, if 
 you'd seen him fight the Gigantic ! 
 
 " And all that time in the cave, six mortal days 
 while he lay raving mad with his wound, he called 
 to her : ' Margaret ! Margaret ! ' Look what he was 
 before, and what he's fallen to because he was 
 loyal." 
 
 " In love with him," said Browne, under his 
 breath. 
 
 " Of course she is, I saw them part. Didn't 
 she burst into tears, so that she had to run away." 
 
 " The message," Browne's voice was broken now ; 
 " it saved her reason. I thought " 
 
 " The message," said Lancaster, " I forged that 
 message." 
 
 " Forged it ? " 
 
 " Of course. How could I come to her without 
 a message ? That's what Brand would have written 
 if he could. Do you think it was easy for me 
 bringing that message ? " 
 
VICTORY 247 
 
 " I'd never have dared," said Browne, humbly. 
 " Fancy lying to her ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm her cousin, you know, and you'd 
 have dared all right if you had been there. He was 
 conscious, the fever gone — awful weak, of course, 
 and he couldn't have written a letter to save his 
 life. I did it out of my owti head, too, and I hate 
 writing letters. That night I climbed the cliff, and 
 at the top found a young fisherman asleep. The 
 man was in hiding, a criminal, I suppose ; but he 
 helped me, and we got Brand up with ropes. Neither 
 of us knew that Ulster was dead, or that the royal 
 yacht was out searching for Brand, or that Lyonesse 
 was retaken for the Queen. I found out all that 
 afterwards. 
 
 " All we knew was that Brand must escape from 
 England ; and he told me to search for a shed, close 
 by where his cottage used to stand. Inside the 
 shed we found a little old ship, the first one that 
 Brand's father ever built, the mother of the Fleet." 
 
 " What, the Experiment ? I've read about that." 
 
 " Yes, the Experiment ; she was in perfect order, 
 and we got her alive within the hour. I begged 
 Brand to take the fisherman or me, but he would have 
 neither of us. The fisherman must search for Miss 
 Brand, he said, and take her a message. I must go 
 to the Queen. Then he began to get delirious." 
 
 " You let him go like that ! " 
 
 " He cheated me — said I could come with him, 
 but first I must coil up the rope — he wanted the rope. 
 While I was coiling up the rope the port clanged 
 home, the ship rose with a whirr, drawing up a 
 hurricane of dust and stones. I was dragged off my 
 
248 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 feet into the air, then fell nearly over the edge of 
 the cliff. He was gone ! " 
 
 " To his death," said Browne. 
 
 " Who knows ? " 
 
 " And she believes that message ! " 
 
 " I had to confess to some one," said Lancaster, 
 dolefully. " Hello, here's old Branscombe. What's 
 the trouble. Jack ? " 
 
 " Thought you'd gone back to bed, sir." 
 
 " Bed be damned," said Lancaster, cheerfully. 
 " Why that bereaved smile ? More bad news ? " 
 
 Fat Jack sat down panting, leaning his hands on 
 his sword. 
 
 " Bad news ? Well, sir, that's hardly the word, 
 we're a little nearer the end, perhaps." He watched 
 the long procession of the sick — borne one by one on 
 stretchers up the stairway. " Fd rather the end 
 came quick." 
 
 " Oh, go and be an angel," said Lancaster, scorn- 
 fully. " Go and croak at the moon, Jack, weep to 
 the clouds all alone on a damp battlement. We've 
 had more fun and adventure this last month." 
 
 Browne laughed heartily. 
 
 " Well," old Branscombe smiled at the two lads ; 
 " I suppose Fm a fool," he wheezed. " Just now I 
 was talking with one of our wounded men — Bill 
 Sothern. He saw the whole Republican army in 
 camp, two hundred and fift}^ thousand men at least, 
 the pick of the Midland counties, well fed, in fine con- 
 dition, and our poor half-starved troops, what can 
 they do ? How could our Lady so much as offer 
 battle. The thing was hopeless — she was right to 
 decline. Well, to-day, the Republican colours are 
 
VICTORY 249 
 
 flying on Hampstead Hill. To-morrow, their flag 
 will be hoisted here." 
 
 " Come," said Lancaster, " cheer us up — go on, 
 Jack." 
 
 " I wonder " — Jack grunted, looking steadily at 
 the Prince. " You, sir, may be pleased. I'm of a 
 different make. The French and German armies 
 landed yesterday, covering the coast from Dungeness 
 to Portsmouth — half a million men, with two 
 hundred ships of the line to sweep our army away as 
 they advance." 
 
 " Anything more ? " asked Tom of Lancaster. 
 
 " The Russian Fleet has appeared off the coast 
 of Essex." 
 
 Lancaster was whistling softly. " ' Three blind 
 mice — three blind mice ; see how they run.' Well, 
 Jack, I'll lay you three to one in anything you like 
 on Margaret." 
 
 " In my country," said Browne, yawning, " the 
 sun goes down in the fall of the year and never comes 
 up again. The Arctic Sea is all shifting ice pack, 
 the land all white drifts, and you think the night is 
 never going to end. Yet it does ; the sun comes 
 up in the spring, and the mosquito season begins. 
 Perhaps things will come out all right even in this 
 England." 
 
 " Perhaps," answered Branscombe. " How long 
 is it, Browne, since you joined the Guard — you're 
 only a recruit, eh ? " 
 
 " Thirty-one days and thirty-one nights," said 
 Browne, " and it feels like thirty-one years. Another 
 month of your London will make me a doddering 
 old patriarch," 
 
250 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Another month ? " Branscombe rose and 
 walked away with a sigh. 
 
 " Another month ! " echoed young Lancaster. 
 
 " Why, gentlemen," came a voice from the upper 
 stairway. " Are the Queen's Blackguards so far 
 gone as that ? All out of curl, no swagger — like a 
 covey of widows ? " 
 
 Lancaster turned with an acid smile to the 
 civilian. 
 
 " Who the deuce are you ? " 
 
 " I have the honour," said the civilian grinning, 
 " to be her Majesty's Chief Poisoner." 
 
 Lancaster whispered to Browne. " Another 
 bounder come to cheer me up. Well," he turned to 
 the civilian. " Tell us all the bad news, there's 
 still room for a fourth invading army from the 
 west." 
 
 The Chief Poisoner lighted a cigarette, sat down, 
 crossed his legs and chuckled. 
 
 " Don't mind me," said the Prince. 
 
 " What ! " the civilian started to his feet. " I 
 beg your Royal Highness — I mean, sir — I didn't ' 
 
 " Sit down," said the Prince. " Tell lies, we need 
 amusing. Proceed, my Lord Chief Poisoner." 
 
 " Oh — ah — well, sir," the Poisoner smiled and 
 writhed. " I have good news, sir, and at last I'm 
 at liberty to speak. I had the honour to hear you 
 mention, sir, the armies of the invasion." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " They can't march on London without roads and 
 railways, and they depend, sir, more or less on the 
 country for supplies — of water, for instance." 
 
 " Water ? " 
 
VICTORY 251 
 
 " The first of all necessities. The Franco- 
 German forces, as you know, sir, have landed on the 
 coast of Kent, Sussex, and Hampshire. Now in 
 these three counties, her Majesty has called out the 
 Territorials, and ordered them to retreat on London 
 sweeping the whole population before them, driving 
 the live-stock in to feed the capital, burning all 
 provisions and ricks that couldn't be moved. The 
 railways have been mined, and the roads blocked 
 with felled timber and mines. Yesterday I had the 
 honour to direct the poisoning of every well, pond, 
 and running stream. Her Majesty sends word advis- 
 ing the enemy that she will supply pure water when 
 the troops lay down their arms." 
 
 " But they can march across ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, they can march across without trans- 
 port or artillery, or food, or water, to attack the 
 fortified positions on the north downs. Meanwhile 
 the live-stock and provisions are restoring life and 
 hope to the armies and citizens in London." 
 
 " You mean to say," cried Lancaster, " that the 
 Queen has done all that in five days ? " 
 
 " It's seven days since her Majesty seized the 
 Government." 
 
 " How about the Russian landing in Essex ? " 
 
 " I'm not at liberty to speak as yet." 
 
 " I see," Lancaster had both hands to his ban- 
 daged head. " But there are still the enemy's 
 Fleets." 
 
 Browne chuckled. 
 
 " Hello," Lancaster flashed round on him. " Who 
 told you to laugh ? " 
 
 " Something," said Browne, " about eagles and 
 
252 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 bones out of the Bible — wish I could remember what 
 Miss Temple did say. She reviewed them yesterday. 
 
 " Miss Temple held a review ? Well, I'll be 
 boiled ! " 
 
 " No," Browne was irritable, " our Lady, of 
 course, reviewed the What-d'ye-call-um's ships — 
 Brand's ships — eleven of them." 
 
 " You're dreaming, Browne." 
 
 " It's no dream," said Bro\Mie. " Our Lady has 
 kept the crews alive in gaol ; she's got the squadron 
 together, review'ed them yesterday, and she's going 
 to send them against the enemy's fleets. They've 
 got some sort of vibrations for touching off explosives, 
 but none of their captains ever heard of these vibra- 
 tions, and Brand is the only man who knows the 
 secret. That seems to trouble our Lady." 
 
 " Vibrations be damned," said Lancaster, hotly. 
 " I know aU about etheric ships. Wasn't I in the 
 Mary Rose when we rammed the Gigantic ? Brand's 
 ships are rams, and the3^'ll go through an electric 
 battleship like a shell through a paper balloon. 
 Eleven rams like that could wipe out all the electric 
 fleets of Europe. Why with the fleets destroyed 
 and the country impassable " 
 
 Browne yelped with delight. 
 
 " Here," cried Lancaster, " Jack Branscombe, 
 you old fool. I'll bet you every horse in my 
 stables, bar Sharon and the Dun — against your 
 spotted dog, our Lady wins the game ! " 
 
 Branscombe had been listening at the stairhead, 
 now he rolled over to Lancaster. 
 
 " I can't," he panted. " I can't bet against our 
 Lady." 
 
VICTORY 253 
 
 " That the League don't capture London — my 
 horses against your beastly spotted cur." 
 
 " Your horses are a scandalous lot of crocks, and 
 I wouldn't have them at a gift ; but done, sir ! and I 
 hope you'll win my dog." 
 
 " And so do I ! " 
 
 The voice, our Lady's voice, came thrilling clear 
 from the head of the lower stairway, at which the 
 three Guardsmen sprang to attention, and the 
 civilian bolted. So her Majesty came forward 
 attended by her retinue of the Guard, and wearing 
 her uniform as its captain. 
 
 Branscombe provided her a seat, Browne, kneel- 
 ing, presented the cup of wine, the escort, breaking 
 ranks, piled arms and awaited her pleasure. 
 
 " There," she said, laughing. " I'm tired enough 
 to love my home. Stand forward, Sergeant Brans- 
 combe," said our Lady, and her eyes twinkled, for 
 she dearly loved a jest. " You are charged with 
 betting one spotted dog against your sovereign." 
 
 Branscombe prayed for the pavement to swallow 
 him. 
 
 " I had no more," he stammered. 
 
 " One spotted dog or fifty, the same crime, 
 Sergeant. I condemn you to quarter on your shield 
 of arms a spotted dog proper bearing the legend : 
 * I am Lancaster's.' And you, Tom of Lancaster, 
 get to bed, and behave yourself on pain of a severe 
 course of mustard plasters — off with you ! Gentle- 
 men," she raised her cup, " I pledge the Guard." 
 
 We heard a trumpet blown outside the gates, and 
 at the sound our Lady let the cup fall, watching it 
 roll slowly across the floor. 
 
254 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " Go down," she said, " Gentlemen of ' B ' 
 squadron — receive this visitor — pay him all possible 
 honour, and bring him here." 
 
 A dozen men, those of "B" squadron, parted from 
 the rest, saluted, formed, and marched clattering 
 down the long stairs. The procession of the sick and 
 their bearers ceased. Then one could only hear the 
 impatient horses stamping in the porch. We looked 
 at our Lady, and saw that she was afraid. 
 
 ' I want to warn you, gentlemen," she said 
 faintly. " That trumpet was blown for the President 
 of the British Republic — yes, the Republic. He has 
 come to receive my surrender." 
 
 " Kill him ! Kill him ! " cried some, and every 
 man in the chamber was moved to break away from 
 the Queen's discipline. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said our Lady. " President 
 O'Brien comes under flag of truce. If you are 
 offended now, you will be furious when you hear his 
 demands, and if you love me, you will stand quite 
 still, except to salute him at his entrance. I warn 
 you the slightest hostile movement may ruin me. 
 My envoys have failed to treat with this man, my 
 letters met with an insulting reply, and he holds 
 North London in overwhelming force. Ah, here he 
 comes. Don't be uneasy, I assure you I'm not going 
 to surrender." 
 
 The President, attended by his staff, conducted 
 by our troopers, came to the stairhead and there 
 stood surveying our Lady and her war-stained 
 Guard. 
 
 " Where is this woman ? "he demanded hoarsely. 
 
 And in answer, Margaret rose to make him 
 
VICTORY 255 
 
 welcome, met him half-way across the chamber, and 
 frankly offered her hand. 
 
 " What," she asked gently, " will you not shake 
 hands ? " 
 
 General O'Brien lifted his e^'^es until they were 
 level with her brave sad face. 
 
 " Won't you shake hands ? " she said, " you 
 come to me in my utmost need." Then addressing 
 his retinue, " I am so glad to welcome friends." 
 
 " This is all nonsense, madam. I am not a 
 friend." 
 
 " That," answered our Lady, " is incredible. 
 You are doing yourself injustice. My enemies are 
 Russians, Germans, French, not British. You could 
 not possibly be leagued with my enemies. I have 
 sent my messengers to welcome your reinforcements, 
 cleared the northern suburbs to quarter your troops, 
 begged for your counsel as to meeting the Russian 
 advance, and now you come pretending enmity." 
 
 " I pretend nothing, madam. I come as President 
 of the British Republic to occupy this Palace." 
 
 Margaret laughed at him. " My dear good man, 
 I can't spare room for another cot, even for you. 
 This hospital is jammed to the very doors with my 
 poor guests, the sick. See through that archway " — 
 she pointed to the entrance of the mess-room — " in 
 that one ward there are seven hundred cases of 
 typhus. Come, General O'Brien, I'm badly in need 
 of ambulance, and you must help me." 
 
 " I will take charge of that," said the President, 
 brusquely. " Meanwhile, madam, a special train is 
 waiting to take you with your following to Balmoral." 
 
 Our Lady turned away from him, crossed to her 
 
256 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 chair and sat down. She rested her elbows on her 
 knees, her face in her hands, and looked up at this 
 President thoughtfully. 
 
 " And so, General O'Brien," she said at last, 
 " you want to sit in my throne, my most comfortless 
 throne." 
 
 " I want no throne," answered General O'Brien, 
 " I have come to put an end to this disastrous 
 monarchy. I have no time for delay." 
 
 " And who are you ? " Margaret lifted her proud 
 head. " Who are you ? " 
 
 " I command the armies of the Republic — three 
 hundred thousand men." 
 
 " And I," said her Majesty, " command the 
 nation, the feudatories, the colonies, the seas, the 
 air — the British Empire. I am chosen by my 
 people their anointed sovereign, guardian of their 
 liberty, Defender of their Faith. The throne is not 
 yours. General, or mine. It belongs to the people 
 who make the laws, and we are their servants — 
 their servants. General. When we have conquered 
 the League, I will ask my people what kind of 
 Government they want, who they will have as their 
 President or their Sovereign. I will obey their 
 orders, but, by God, not yours ! " 
 
 " You propose to fight my armies ? " 
 
 " No, I would not have one of my people hurt 
 in such a quarrel. I have half a million men, to 
 fight Russia, France, and Germany — not one to 
 spare for you." 
 
 " What do you propose ? " 
 
 A man had come to the headof the upper stairway, 
 Sir Myles Strangford, Secretary for War. 
 
VICTORY 257 
 
 " Where is the Queen ? " he cried. " Gentlemen 
 of the Guard, where is the Queen ? I have great 
 news — victory ! victory ! Our squadron of etheric 
 rams has met the Franco-German fleets. Victory ! 
 Victory ! " 
 
 How the Guard cheered ! 
 
 Then her Majesty sent for Sir Myles, and he was 
 brought to her, 
 
 " Tell me," she said, laughing as he kissed her 
 hand, " who is this General O'Brien ? He claims 
 to be the President of some Republic." 
 
 Sir Myles looked up towards General O'Brien and 
 laughed also. 
 
 " Does he offer, madam, to meet the etheric 
 rams in battle ? " 
 
 " Woman," cried General O'Brien, " I am not 
 here to be insulted — surrender, or I shall take this 
 Palace by assault." 
 
 " You would assault a hospital ! " 
 
 Margaret rose from her seat, went over to the 
 President, and, slowly drawing her sword — 
 
 " You would assault a hospital ! " The sword 
 whirled above her head, and with the flat of the 
 blade, she struck heavily upon his shoulder. " Sir 
 George O'Brien," she cried, " are you my knight, or 
 are you my enemy ? Take your choice." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he retorted in fury. 
 
 " I mean that you are knighted in my service, 
 and commissioned Lieutenant-General to meet the 
 Russian invasion, or that you draw your sword, 
 Mr. O'Brien, and fight." 
 
 " This is an outrage ! " 
 
 " Take it as an outrage, Mr. George O'Brien, 
 
 s 
 
258 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 rebel. It's easy enough to assault hospitals, easy 
 enough to send brave men to their death. You 
 have three hundred thousand soldiers, I half a 
 million ; but I cannot spare one life in either army — 
 I can spare you. What's that sword at your side ? 
 Is it only an ornament ? Have you no courage 
 beyond assaulting hospitals ? Draw, you coward, 
 and fight ! " 
 
 Here, Dymoke, as Champion of England, de- 
 manded leave to engage, but our Lady waved him 
 aside, being in no mood for interference. As to 
 General O'Brien, he was not so eager. 
 
 " I cannot possibly fight you. This is madness ! " 
 
 " Sir, choose your own weapons, broadsword or 
 rapier ; I value my life less than I value yours. 
 There's no room for both of us in the world. Draw, 
 or I'll kiU you. Draw, I say, draw ! " 
 
 " I do not fight with women." 
 
 " A man then ! Gentlemen of the Bodyguard, 
 he demands a man ! Choose your antagonist, sir, 
 for light you shall ! " 
 
 " I refuse to fight ! " 
 
 " Then," said one of the Generals of the staff, 
 " I serve under no coward. I am a gentleman, 
 your Majesty," he crossed to her rear. " I am at 
 your Majesty's service." 
 
 In another minute President O'Brien stood alone, 
 his staff gone over to the Queen. 
 
 " I accept the inevitable," he said, angrily. " I 
 accept the position of Lieutenant-General in your 
 Majesty's service." 
 
 " This coward," Margaret turned upon the 
 Generals, pointing with her sword to the late President, 
 
VICTORY 259 
 
 " this coward proposes to serve in my armies. I 
 send no cowards against my gallant enemies of the 
 League. Which of you gentlemen holds highest 
 rank in the Republican forces ? " 
 
 General McNeill saluted. 
 
 " Tisto you, then, sir, I shall entrust my campaign 
 against Russia. You will consult with Sir Myles 
 Strangford and receive my commands through him. 
 As to this coward here, I entrust him to your custody 
 as a prisoner. I order you to have him thrashed for 
 cowardice in presence of the army he was unfit to 
 lead." 
 
 The Republic was at an end. 
 
 Mr. Dymoke was furious. " What's the use," he 
 said afterwards. " What's the use of being Here- 
 ditary Champion of England if I can't have somebody 
 to kill ? I was cheated out of my fight with Prince 
 Ali, and here's the Queen herself getting in front of 
 my rights." 
 
 He was to have his killing. 
 
XXI 
 
 THE queen's retreat 
 
 From the time our Lady's actual reign began, we saw 
 the ruined land stir into being. For money she gave 
 us " Queen's promises," that is to say, the old coins 
 of the realm, which her Majesty vowed to redeem at 
 their former value. With these coins, after she made 
 proclamation on the thirteenth of the Terror, wages 
 were earned and paid, the traffic moved again, shops 
 opened for trade, and factories went to work. It 
 was all done in a timid way at first, then with 
 more confidence, and at last in full flood of 
 recovery. 
 
 For those still out of work, her Majesty founded 
 the Administration of Hope. To the municipal 
 councils she granted powers for seizure of provisions, 
 emploj'ment of workers, and service of rations to 
 them and to their families. So the dead were buried, 
 the streets and roads were cleared, ships were dis- 
 charged, the markets stocked with produce from the 
 shires, and London was fortified. 
 
 She founded the Administration of Succour, 
 opening pawnshops for the loan of money, hospitals 
 for the sick, camps for the destitute, and a service 
 of military transport. 
 
 So daily, hourly, the Queen's dominion spread 
 260 
 
THE QUEEN'S RETREAT 261 
 
 until the three kingdoms rang from end to end with 
 feverish industry and courageous hfe. 
 
 It was all so gallantly done, and so hopeless. 
 Nothing but the instant peril of invasion could have 
 bound the people together while they were starving. 
 The dying realm lived by her surgery, was healed, 
 was saved, but then the price must be paid— 
 and three armies were marching against the Capital. 
 Our Lady's flotilla of rams shattered their covering 
 fleets— but even etheric vessels could not charge 
 battleships of the line without being injured ; caught 
 in the bursting magazines, they were racked to 
 pieces. The fleets of the League were destroyed, 
 but of the three rams which survived not one could 
 float again. 
 
 Four shires, Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, and Essex, 
 were laid waste, changed into desert where all the 
 water was poisonous, but the armies of the invasion 
 were only delayed until they could add tanks to 
 their transport. Then the armies came against the 
 outer defences of London — a web of hedges, ditches 
 and canals, a labyrinth of suburbs which swallowed 
 brigade after brigade, and sent back only wreckage 
 of lost regiments. Our Imperial army was— ever 
 since the beginning of the Twentieth Century— 
 an army of marksmen — sharp-shooters who mowed 
 down the poor conscripts of Europe, even as the 
 swaths of wheat fell at the harvesting. 
 
 Behind her chain of fortresses our Lady was 
 arming her people for defensive war ; mines, mills, 
 and factories, villages and towns sent their contin- 
 gents of men to be drilled in her camps ; the Midlands 
 seethed with preparation of arms, and explosives ; 
 
262 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 and every weapon capable of use added a man's 
 strength to the great defence. 
 
 As Margaret called in her outposts, garrison 
 troops came in daily from Halifax, Bermuda, 
 Gibraltar, and were sent \\ith their guns to the 
 front. 
 
 France and Germany called up their fleet reserves, 
 but the Mediterranean Squadron dealt with the 
 French above Rouen, and turning eastward, caught 
 the Germans in Hanover. 
 
 So the battle raged for weeks, over land and 
 sea, but the vortex of this dread Armageddon was 
 Margaret's Capital. The French army was in the 
 outer southern suburbs, the Russians held the 
 northern suburbs, the Germans were in the east, 
 and the marshals of the invasion slowly mile by 
 mile forced their way to the westward, closing down 
 upon London. Another week would see the Metro- 
 polis surrounded, and the siege commenced. We 
 knew that the end was near. 
 
 It was the bombardment of the East End which 
 brought the council of war to plead with her Majesty 
 for the desperate policy of retreat. They begged 
 her to withdraw westward, to evacuate London, 
 and, laying the land waste, fall balk upon the Mid- 
 lands. 
 
 " Fall back ! " said Margaret bitterly. " Gentle- 
 men, I cannot understand your military terms, but 
 if that means run — I won't ! " 
 
 " Madam," Lord Fortescue had a valued gift of 
 persuasion. " We want to run away, leading the 
 enemy inland until we catch him in a trap." 
 
 " That sounds well," said our Lady, pursing 
 
THE QUEEN'S RETREAT 263 
 
 her lips doubtfully. " Are the traps always far 
 inland ? " 
 
 " Madam, if we are caught here in London, it 
 means surrender." 
 
 " London, then, is a trap ? " 
 
 " A perfect death-trap," 
 
 " A perfect death-trap." Margaret repeated 
 the words doubtfully ; then, like a flash — " If 
 any army is caught in London, it means sur- 
 render ! " 
 
 " Good gracious, madam ! " exclaimed the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief. 
 
 " Let me feel my way — perhaps it is nonsense. 
 A million people are being shelled — murdered in the 
 East End. Suppose we clear the East End — here, 
 see on this map — from Stratford say, to Aldgate. I 
 could send the women and children to Windsor 
 Forest — they need a holiday, poor things. Any 
 way we could spare that district to the Germans. 
 Then there's the City and this West-Central district 
 up to Charing Cross — a heap of ruins. We could 
 spare all that to the Germans — enough room for 
 them to lose their whole army. They would rush 
 in to capture our main positions on the Hampstead 
 and Sydenham Hills. They would find themselves 
 in a low valley blocked with ruins, under the fire of a 
 thousand guns, every line of escape blocked by our 
 barricades, the river on their left too broad to swim. 
 Then they would try to get back to their camps — 
 and find their camps fortified with their own guns 
 against them ! " 
 
 " Madam ! " 
 
 " My lord, have these Germans any mercy on my 
 
264 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 poor women and children ? I want to capture their 
 army." 
 
 " We couldn't possibly feed two hundred thousand 
 prisoners." 
 
 " I want no prisoners, I want rifles for my re- 
 serves. Lord Fortescue, rifles and powder, and all the 
 provisions in the German camps. As to the " 
 
 " Madam," said Strangford, " a couple of hundred 
 thousand German prisoners sent as a present into 
 the hungry Russian lines might, — well, Russia loves 
 Germany none too well as it is." 
 
 But Lord Fortescue objected, protesting that 
 London was full of foreign spies, and that we could 
 never conceal our preparations." 
 
 " Permit me, madam," cried Strangford, eagerly. 
 " My dear Lord Fortescue, here we have the com- 
 plete plans for the evacuation of London. I could 
 get the papers sold privately to the French, and we 
 could so shape our preparations as to make the Allies 
 believe we were in full retreat to the Midlands. 
 Afterwards we shall have both Russians and Ger- 
 mans accusing the French of treachery. We shall 
 split the League ! " 
 
 There is no need to tell again the story of our 
 Lady's stratagem. During the five days of its pre- 
 paration, the armies of the League closing down 
 through the western suburbs, cut off all hope of 
 retreat, all chance of succour. No help could reach 
 us from the outer world, and lost in the valley 
 of death, we could send no word to salve the fear 
 of England, or to restrain despair. So much we 
 lost. 
 
 Then came the thirty-ninth of the Terror, when 
 
THE QUEEN'S RETREAT 265 
 
 the German forces, a hundred and fifty thousand 
 strong, marched into the capital. 
 
 From the Palace towers we watched the red sun 
 rise, heard the first gun, and waited minute after 
 minute until the silence became agony. Then came 
 a sudden blaze from a thousand guns, the Palace 
 reeled under the crash, and over the ruins of central 
 London went up a cloud of dust. Of the German 
 forces, thirty-one thousand men are supposed to have 
 perished in that cloud, fifteen thousand escaped in 
 panic flight, a hundred and four thousand prisoners 
 were released starving into the hungry Russian lines. 
 
 Our Lady was pleased to dine that night with the 
 Bodyguard. The tables, for lack of room elsewhere, 
 had been set in the guardroom upon the alabaster 
 stairs, and in her Majesty's honour we twined gar- 
 lands of rose and laurel about the lamps, brought out 
 the gold plate, and used some of that old, gracious 
 pageantry which graced the bygone times. Out- 
 side, the guns were firing a salute, the bells of London 
 pealed for victory, and our trumpets pealed as we 
 rose to drink to the Queen. Then Sir Myles Strang- 
 ford came, attended by his staff, and from the upper 
 stairway read the report of our triumph. 
 
 " A hundred and fourteen thousand stand of 
 arms, the German siege train, Woolwich Arsenal, 
 three thousand wagons of military stores, twenty- 
 two million rations " 
 
 The harsh call of a bugle cut short his words, a 
 quick, imperative summons at the very gates of the 
 Palace. No English bugle was sounded in such a 
 place. 
 
 When an attendant had been sent to make 
 
266 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 inquiries, Sir Myles went on reading the proclama- 
 tion of victory, news that would bring comfort to the 
 besieged, hope to all Britain, His voice was fervent 
 in thanksgiving ; a storm of cheering drowned his 
 closing words. Standing with drawn swords we 
 sang the National Anthem, thinking most of us of 
 the women folk at home, our mothers and sisters in 
 danger, and our dread sovereign Lady whom we 
 served. Then the song died on our lips, our swords 
 drooped, and there was silence while a vague fear 
 gripped us at the throat. 
 
 A Russian general officer had come up the stair- 
 way attended by a trooper bearing the white flag 
 on a lance, 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, in broken English, " I 
 have the honour — I bear a letter to her Britannic 
 Majesty." 
 
 His eyes followed ours as we directed him, and 
 perhaps, after all, the Russians pleaded for an 
 armistice. The Allies were ready to fly at each 
 other's throats, there was hatred within the League 
 more than against ourselves. And yet the Russian's 
 bearing boded no good to us, and as our Lady read 
 we saw her face turn grey. 
 
 She beckoned the envoy to retire — told him to 
 await her pleasure at the gates, kept silence until he 
 was gone. 
 
 " Strangford ! " she cried, " Strangford ! Come 
 here ! " 
 
 She thrust the paper into Strangford's hand, and 
 we saw him too grow cold before our eyes. 
 
 " Madam," he groaned, " I fear this is the end." 
 
 " Gentlemen," our Lady lay back in her chair 
 
THE QUEEN'S RETREAT 267 
 
 very faint and ill. " Gentlemen of the Guard, you 
 who have never failed me — never failed me," she 
 started up, a new thought lighting her face. " You're 
 the only men in the Empire who have not failed me. 
 I appeal to you — I want ships — I want a squadron 
 of ships. Help me ! help me ! " 
 
 Not a man moved, for how could we find her 
 ships ? We had given our yachts, those who had 
 them, and had not failed her when our lives were 
 needed — but ships ! At the beginning the Channel 
 Fleet was lost, but the fleets of the League were 
 destroyed by etheric rams. The reserve fleets of 
 France and Germany had been defeated by the 
 Mediterranean Squadron. Victorious in a hundred 
 aerial fights, the ships which remained to England 
 were on guard, lest the French and Germans attempt 
 a last attack. We dared not withdraw one cruiser 
 lest our enemies take the air again — and that 
 meant ruin. There was no squadron left even 
 for the Queen's most vital need — or else the siege 
 of London had been impossible. There were no 
 ships. 
 
 A slow tear trickled down our Lady's face. 
 
 " We dared to hope," she said, " to hold out 
 until Mr. Brand comes back — as he will come back ! 
 Oh, must he come too late ? " 
 
 That was the most piteous thing of all, that our 
 Lady still believed Brand would come back. 
 
 Sergeant Dymoke went to the Queen, and, 
 bending his knee — 
 
 " Madam," he cried, " we are ready to go on 
 fighting." 
 
 " How can we light ? " said Margaret angrily. 
 
268 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " What can we do against the Siberian Fleet ? Can 
 we ride horses upon the clouds, charge nineteen 
 battleships of the line with rifles, float up our 
 fortress guns to fight the stars ? " 
 
 And all the bells of London were pealing for 
 victory ! 
 
XXII 
 
 THE LAST BATTLE 
 
 Mars burned on the horizon ; the six stars of 
 Orion, the seven misty Pleiads, the eight suns of 
 the Bear, and all the lamps of Heaven were shining 
 steadfast. Suns spin their course, the constellations 
 change, and all things pass, but yet eternal gleams 
 the Milky Way spanning the night from everlasting 
 unto everlasting — the perfect arch of God's re- 
 straining hand. We may lie down to rest in utter 
 faith, for, with the failing glory of our day, the 
 night reveals His visible providence. But those 
 who cannot sleep most need His comfort, and our 
 Lady Margaret kept vigil that last night. 
 
 From the high solitude of her tower, she watched 
 the passing stars until the black ruins of the city 
 loomed ragged against white dawn light. Ashen 
 grey were the ruins of Mayfair to the north ; gaunt 
 and gigantic wrecks of Belgravia's palaces went up 
 in white against the velvet west. The day was 
 breaking — the last day of all. Mist lay beneath 
 where all the Palace slept, and in the gardens the 
 waking doves crooned softly. Far off in the south, 
 trains rumbled at some junction of the rails ; a 
 car whirred in the Palace Road ; an aerial yacht slid 
 past in the western gloom, and London was alive. 
 
 269 
 
270 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 The sun would come up presently ; how few 
 of all the thousands asleep in the Palace were 
 destined to see him set ! The trooper who stood 
 by the parapet watching the pale light climb the 
 eastern sky prayed with a boy's fervour that the 
 sun might never rise. "Jehovah of the Thunders, 
 Lord God of Battles, don't let that sun rise ! Have 
 pity ; destroy the earth, hurl us away into the 
 night, but don't let the sun rise upon Margaret's 
 death — the end of human liberty, and all the glory 
 of manhood that was England ! Oh, stay the 
 sun ! Have mercy and stay the sun ! " 
 
 The trooper knelt down, and, reaching out his 
 arms towards the east, begged the Almighty Father 
 to stay the sun. 
 
 Our Lady's voice broke in upon his silence. 
 " Browne," she called, " Browne, come here to me, 
 I need you." 
 
 He came, standing at the salute, 
 
 " Look to the west," said Margaret. " The light 
 is growing — ^look to the west and tell me — are there 
 any ships ? " 
 
 He looked into the violet gloom, hung like a 
 funeral curtain over the west, then his arm fell to 
 his side, but he dared not answer. 
 
 " The armistice," said Margaret, " ends when 
 the sun comes up — the three days' armistice — they 
 would not give me more. Not just in the west, 
 Bro\vne," said our Lady, gently, " a little to the 
 southward, look again. Lyonesse is a little south 
 of west, above the copper beech tree do^vn in the 
 garden." 
 
 But still Browne answered nothing. 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 271 
 
 " Are you short-sighted, Browne ? " asked Mar- 
 garet, patiently, knowing that he was noted for 
 long sight. "Or is the sky still dark over to west- 
 ward ? " 
 
 But he answered nothing. 
 
 " Or are you crying, Browne ? " 
 
 The man threw himself suddenly at her feet and 
 there lay until the dawn light found our Lady's 
 face. 
 
 " If it were all to do again," she said ; " and I 
 knew what must come, seeing the future clearer than 
 the past, and judging as God judges even to the end 
 of Destiny — I wonder — should I have let my country 
 be betrayed ? Vassalage to Russia ! No, I think 
 not. Ulster betrayed me, and in that treason was 
 the seed of all. Now we must reap where Ulster 
 sowed the seed. I could not keep back the harvest, 
 nor can we stop the sun from rising. It is not the 
 rising of the sun which gives the signal to the Russian 
 Fleet. The sun stands still in heaven — it is the 
 earth that sets — man's world going down into this 
 vassalage, into this Russian night. 
 
 " They wanted me to surrender, to lay down my 
 arms, my crown, my kingdom, my religion ; my 
 Ministers and my Generals, all with one voice begged 
 me to save my people, by surrender. They asked 
 me to make my people subjects of Russia — they 
 called that serving my people ! I would rather they 
 died free, and took their freedom into the life to 
 come, going to their Master rich with honour — and 
 not afterwards beggarly, and ashamed, whining like 
 slaves. 
 
 " There is the Siberian Fleet," Margaret was 
 
272 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 gazing upwards at the vast line of battle in the 
 eastern sky. " When the sun reddens their wings, 
 they will destroy my fortresses, murder my peopel, 
 make the Thames run blood. My place is with my 
 people — I am their Queen, and still I shall labour 
 for them, pray for them in that other world, leading 
 my spirit people, my free people. Then I shall leave 
 no children on this earth borne of my shame, de- 
 scended from British Kings to be vassals of Russia. 
 " But. oh, if only my people might be saved ! 
 Stand up again ! Stand up — the sun is reddening 
 the Russian Fleet. Stand up — look to the west — 
 there must be ships in the west — his ships from 
 Lyonesse ! No ships I Still no ships ! Let us go 
 down and take our horses out ; I shall die with my 
 Guard to-day ! I shall ride with my Guard, Beyond ! " 
 
 " Fours right ! Left wheel — by y'r left, march ! 
 Carry ar-r-r-ms ! " 
 
 The old avenue lay ahead of us, the Mall, and 
 as we rode out slowly past the Victoria Monument, 
 our Lady looked back, once, lifting her hand in fare- 
 well — perhaps to Miss Temple on some balcony. 
 Our wounded were with us, all who could keep the 
 saddle, and Lancaster, still very weak, carried the 
 Guidon of the Regiment. The early sunlight, 
 dappled through green leaves, caught gold and 
 scarlet, silver and blazonry ; our horses played like 
 great babies because of the dewy freshness in the air ; 
 and so we broke to a trot, every man with his eyes 
 set straight to the front, his hand gently on the 
 curb, his thoughts — so far away ! 
 
 All round the white horizon, guns of position 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 273 
 
 thundered, shells burst, and spluttering rifles kept 
 up the long monotony of battle, white dust went 
 up, and rolling smoke, flame, and the souls of 
 men. 
 
 A shell burst close beside us as we swung through 
 St. James' Palace into Pall Mall, another, as we 
 entered Waterloo Place, struck the Crimean Monu- 
 ment just ahead ; but we breasted the hill in lower 
 Regent Street between dead shuttered buildings all 
 asleep, as though it were Sunday morning in times 
 of peace. 
 
 We crossed the circus set round with familiar 
 theatres, and hotels, their porches still bearing torn 
 playbills on the columns, their cornices and domes 
 just caught by the morning light. 
 
 A falling shell scattered the rear ranks and burst. 
 Ambrose was killed, O'Hagan wounded, Joubert, 
 the Transvaaller, was unhorsed. Drawing his sword, 
 he saluted her Majesty, then set the point to his 
 neck, drove the blade home, and fell. We rode on 
 through the Quadrant, entering Regent Street. 
 
 We were a troop of cowards, ashen white and 
 shaken, ready to run if a dog barked. The hot blood 
 tingling in our veins, young strength, the desires of 
 manhood, all the powers of nature cried out within 
 us demanding life. Why should we die ! 
 
 The elder empires died, and England's time was 
 come. She should fall gloriously as became her life, 
 still great, still mighty, before age sapped her strength, 
 before decay rotted her honour. Nations born of 
 her loins should pass her freedom on to distant ages, 
 and teach their royal posterity of peoples the discip- 
 line and speech of the English race. 
 
 T 
 
274 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Our part was not in her death but in the hving 
 future — why should we die ? 
 
 But Margaret led us on. 
 
 The sparrows fluttered about our horses' feet, a 
 mist rose on the pavement, and above, the warm 
 light glowed on the high pavilions, colonnades, and 
 roofs crowning the cliff -like walls on either hand. 
 
 How empty the street was ! Grave bronze 
 statues looked down as we rode by, there were the 
 sparrows fluttering, a cyclist was coming up behind, 
 and an old woman venturing across our front, very 
 much frightened at our trampling. 
 
 In an instant all was changed. A cluster of cars 
 came whirling down from the north, killing the 
 woman under their ruthless wheels, and as they 
 passed, the occupants yelled and beckoned. The 
 cyclist had come up abreast shouting to her Majesty 
 some message from the Palace, but we could not 
 listen. 
 
 A man came running out of Oxford Street, then 
 three others and a score behind him, as a shell struck 
 the ground in front of that first man. We saw him 
 shrink away looking back, then fearing the shell less, 
 try to jump clear of it. The shell burst flinging his 
 body against a lamp-post, but the other men came 
 on at the head of a roaring crowd blocking the 
 thoroughfare from wall to wall. There were soldiers 
 amxong them, their rifles thrown away, civilians mad 
 with fright trampling down the weak, cars rocking 
 from side to side as their wheels rolled over the fallen, 
 police carried helpless in the flood. Fresh crowds 
 poured out from byways on the right, and the main 
 tide of panic came roaring down. We galloped into 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 275 
 
 line to beat the crowd back, yelled to the police to 
 help us with barricades, but all these men were 
 changed to beasts in their terror, shells burst in their 
 midst, and the great rush swept us away. 
 
 We rallied about our Lady gradually, cut through 
 the tide and reformed in Conduit Street. On our 
 west lay the ruins of Mayfair, on our east the ruins of 
 Soho, and between no human power could stem that 
 cataract of headlong maniac flight. A shell burst 
 on a roof above our heads scattering ruins of brick- 
 work in our midst ; so, sorely reduced and driven 
 from our shelter, we kept together as best we might 
 through street after street on fire, and alleys blocked 
 with men. 
 
 The smoke himg like a canopy above, and ashes 
 fell like snow through the red gloom. Poisonous 
 vapours spread from bursting shells, low on the 
 ground but rising inch by inch until with taut rein 
 we held up our horses' heads, and swaths of people, 
 strangled by that mist, perished around us. Our 
 way was barred by falling masonry, by sheets of 
 flame ; then we were lost in the darkness all alone, 
 and turning a corner found ourselves in the Mall. 
 
 So Russia dealt with our defenceless crowds, 
 murdering in cold blood from, the decks of her battle- 
 ships. The Grand Duke Alexander was in command, 
 and thus he came to pay his court to the Queen. 
 
 Slowly we rode along the avenue, thirty-eight 
 left of us out of all the Guard. And having seen so 
 many kinds of death, we were fastidious, not caring 
 to fight our own poor countrym.en, or to be any 
 longer jostled through the streets, or butchered by 
 the Russians without a blow returned. Our Lady 
 
276 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 suggested that we should ride out to the southern 
 lines, but we demiurred, having an easy tolerance 
 rather than respect for the French. Neither would 
 she enter the Palace lest the sick and the wounded be 
 disturbed in their beds. It was better to wait in the 
 open. As to our horses we unsaddled the dear beasts 
 for the last time, and because there was no need for 
 them to die — since they had done no wrong — we 
 turned them into the Green Park. 
 
 Our Lad}^ sat upon the base of the Victoria 
 Monument, and we, drawing away to a little dis- 
 tance, tried to be quiet lest we intrude upon her 
 thoughts. But we could not help looking to see that 
 she was safe, to behold her face, perhaps for the last 
 time, or wonder if we might make her seat more 
 comfortable. Then Lancaster whispered that she 
 must be lonely, thinking herself deserted. So one 
 by one with awkward pretences, we came about the 
 balustrade where she sat, attempted to make conver- 
 sation, to tell her stories, trying to -uin her laughter for 
 the last time. They were such tame stories, fell so 
 flat, and none of us could remember which she would 
 like best. At last we made fat Branscombe sing — 
 he had led the Palace choir. 
 
 "Abide with me, fast falls the eventide, 
 The darkness deepens, Lord with me abide. 
 When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
 Help of the helpless, Lord abide with me. 
 
 " Swift to its close, ebbs out life's little day, 
 Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away " 
 
 " Stop," cried our Lady, " I can't bear it, 
 Branscombe ! " 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 277 
 
 Then looking out through the red gloom 
 of that unearthly day, we saw an immense crowd 
 surging down the Mall, At first we thought the 
 people were fugitives, but as they drew nearer, 
 by their torches and weapons, the hags who led them 
 and the song they screamed, " The Marseillaise," we 
 knew them for outlaws and gaol-delivered felons. 
 
 Once more it had broken loose, that bloody and 
 horrible beast mob of anarchy and chaos, but now 
 with hands lifted against our Lady's life. Falling 
 back upon the portico of the Palace, she sent a dozen 
 men to barricade the alabaster stairs, and at all costs 
 we must gain them time to do their work lest the 
 Palace be sacked and thousands of our sick murdered 
 in their beds. Her Majesty stood with her back 
 against the fluted shaft of a column, bullets splashing 
 all round her against the marble, while with an im- 
 perious gesture she demanded silence. 
 
 " Do you want to die ? " she cried to the thieves. 
 " The Russians are slaughtering — they are coming 
 here — they may come at any moment. Will you 
 die with me ? " 
 
 The leaders of the mob drew back amazed, then 
 thrust their spokesman forward, who touched his cap, 
 asking quite respectfully for the treasure in the 
 Palace lest it fall into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 " If there's anything left," cried Margaret, 
 " you're welcome. My Guardsmen will bring what- 
 ever there is to you here, for I'd rather you shared it 
 than my enemies — on one condition, that you stay 
 here outside. I will not have my hospital disturbed.'' 
 
 " Who brought us to this pass ! " screamed a 
 shrill hag. V. Kill her ! Kill her ! " 
 
278 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " We're the people," shouted a man behind the 
 hag. " We'll 'ave our rights ! " 
 
 " You shall have your rights," said Branscombe, 
 running him through the body. 
 
 Then beastly words were used, the man who first 
 had spoken implored her Majesty to escape, lead 
 spattered against the columns, and the mob charged. 
 
 Driven back step by step, we fought with clubbed 
 carbines, covering her Majesty's retreat. The leaders 
 were felled, the thieves behind them stumbling and 
 pushed forward, went down under the heavy wave 
 of that attack, which hurled us, whether we liked 
 or no, into the Palace. We made a stand behind 
 the main doors, a second stand behind the be- 
 ginnings of a barricade ; and there we opened fire 
 for the first time. Nothing could live before that 
 fusilade, yet the rush drove in through the open 
 doors a writhing mass of frantic, shrieking men, 
 hurled by the pressure of their fellows, screaming 
 for mercy under the very muzzles of our guns. There 
 could be no mercy. 
 
 We hardly knew what happened ; supposedly 
 some other gate was breached into the Palace, for 
 suddenly a concentrated fire of rifles poured into 
 us from behind. Looking up the stairs, we saw 
 that the guardroom above us was full of rioters, 
 firing down from the side galleries and the stairhead. 
 To stay was to be butchered at the doors, and so we 
 charged the stairs, cleaved our passage through the 
 guardroom, and on the upper stairway, those who 
 were left of us turned again to fight. 
 
 A clergyman led the next onrush of the mob, a poor, 
 gaunt curate, unarmed, screaming like a woman. 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 279 
 
 " Rats — red rats," was his cry. " Away rats — 
 know you not that I am JuHus Caesar ! Rats ! 
 red rats ! " 
 
 He fell, poor madman, with so many of his 
 fellows that the stairs ran blood, and our assailants, 
 reeling before our fire, made barricades of the dead 
 to fight from cover. Only when we had spent our 
 last cartridge dared they charge again, led now by 
 an old grey fanatic, waving a banner looted from 
 some church, and screaming of Babylon and the 
 Scarlet Woman. A bullet from his following gave 
 him peace. 
 
 And then we had only our swords, our good 
 straight swords, making a fence of steel about our 
 Lady's life. Her life ? It sounds a little incon- 
 sistent, but it was our turn first. We hoped for 
 our Lady a nobler death, in a greater quarrel than 
 this fight with thieves — that is, we ought to have 
 so reasoned had there been time. It is only after 
 the fight that one has leisure to invent all the good 
 reasons. For the time we guarded her Majesty just 
 because we loved her ; fought for her, not with 
 reasoning but with sheer hard steel. 
 
 The surgeons came with their long knives, and 
 stood with us shoulder to shoulder for the defence 
 of their wards ; all sick and wounded men able to 
 stand joined us with crutch or stick to fight for the 
 Queen ; the ladies, driven from their nursing, came 
 to die with us, and many a Palace servant and stray 
 civilian. So went the fight reeling along the corridor 
 and into the rooms of state — a long, hard, des perate 
 defence against overwhelming numbers. The horror 
 of that battle was for the sick, thrown over in their 
 
28o THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 cots, the dying trampled under, the helpless nursing 
 sisters, and those of us who fell. 
 
 Pretty things have been said about the Guard, 
 but the word " Heroic " is strangely misapplied to 
 us who thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We were 
 having a good light, free from all doubts and mis- 
 givings ; for being to all intents and purposes 
 already dead, we had nothing left to be alarmed 
 about. But her Majesty, covering Trooper Browne 
 when he was hurt, and engaging three assailants to 
 her lone sword — that was heroic. 
 
 How that great stormy spirit rose in danger ! 
 She had never seemed to us so royal as when, 
 wounded and bleeding, she rallied us in the throne 
 room, looked about her laughing, and said she 
 would not retreat another inch. She mounted the 
 dais, sat in the chair of state, and laying the red 
 sword across her knees, looked down at her enemies. 
 
 Tenuous wreaths of smoke hung midway up the 
 columns, and blurred the golden vault. The mob 
 was dispersed after pillage, save for a few maniacs 
 still running on our swords. On every side the 
 floor was covered with long rows of beds, the air 
 was filled with wailing, screams and groans, and 
 through the deep gloom one could see the stunted 
 felons of the slums, cursing and shrieking as they 
 fought over their plunder. Plate, robes, gems, 
 porcelain, bronzes, the gifts of kings, and trophies 
 of great campaigns, were fought for by the rabble, 
 snatched from hand to hand, or shattered on the 
 pavement. Drunk with wine from the cellars, mad 
 with bloodshed, fighting among themselves, murder- 
 ing at random, these obscene robbers forgot to attack 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 281 
 
 the Guard. We were dressing each other's wounds, 
 rescuing women from outrage, contriving a barricade 
 to shelter our refugees ; and in her throne our Lady 
 awaited the end. 
 
 We scarcely could see the further columns now, 
 so dense the gloom, so heavy the rolling smoke. Far 
 on our right down the east corridor, bright flames 
 swept nearer and nearer, lighting the hall at last 
 with a crimson glare, and like sunset clouds rolled 
 the red smoke above. 
 
 So the end came. We heard a bugle call, clear 
 notes soaring above all the tumult, sweet music for 
 us who waited — the " Advance." We left our work 
 on the barricading about the dais, clasped hands 
 one with another, said " Good-bye." The Russian 
 bugles called ; one, then another, and a third far 
 off. Her Majesty cried to her surgeons and able- 
 bodied men to withdraw with the refugees, to 
 hoist a white flag and stand aside from death under 
 the shelter of the colonnades. We forced a swift 
 obedience, we of the Guard. 
 
 And coming back we heard our Lady scream ! 
 She had half risen, one knee on the seat of the throne, 
 her eyes dilated with horror, set on the east corridor. 
 There under the flames, it seemed from the very 
 midst of the flames, Miss Temple came, walking 
 slowly, as though in a dream. She reached out her 
 arms to us — her hands had been cut off at the wrists 
 — her grey hair streamed with blood, her gown of 
 black brocade was torn away at the breast. As 
 she entered the throne-room the robbers fell shrink- 
 ing back on either side, opening a lane through the' 
 beds to give her passage. Death was in her face, as 
 
282 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 tenderly we led her to the Queen, and then at Mar- 
 garet's feet she found rest. Her Majesty was crying. 
 
 Saluting the throne as we passed, we formed 
 before the dais, measured each man his distance, 
 and made ready. Lancaster, badly wounded and 
 barely able to stand, planted the Guidon on our 
 Lady's right, our lance-borne pennant charged with 
 the royal arms, half seen through low-rolling fiame- 
 hued smoke, glowing with golden and scarlet blazonry. 
 
 Already the rioters in their thousands were being 
 swept headlong as though by a whirlwind through 
 the chambers of state, their flight converging in the 
 throne-room, and, for one wild moment threatening 
 to roll insensate over our last defence. Like a rock 
 in mid torrent we split the rush in two, then free to 
 breathe again wiped the blood from our swords and 
 waited. Through the red gloom, we could see 
 battalions of Russian seamen clearing a space with 
 their bayonets on the further side of the hall. Oppo- 
 site, an Admiral attended by his staff advanced 
 midway to the throne and halted. On either side 
 of this group of officers, the battalions, far back 
 against the columns, halted, grounded arms with a 
 crash, and unfixed bayonets. Their rifles clattered 
 to the " ready," the " present," then with a deafen- 
 ing roar and a blaze of flame, delivered one volley. 
 The floor was littered with the broken cots of the 
 hospitals, with heaps of plunder, and with piles of 
 the dead. We were alone with our enemy, and in a 
 momentary silence heard the sharp crackle of advanc- 
 ing flames, felt the furnace heat, and saw the red 
 glare deepen on drifting wreaths of smoke. 
 
 The bugles were sounding the English general 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 283 
 
 salute, and as the Admiral advanced at the head of 
 his staff, we could do no less than respond to that 
 courtesy with our swords. We looked at the 
 Admiral's face, and he was the man we had expelled 
 in disgrace from the Palace, his Imperial Highness 
 the Grand Duke Alexander. 
 
 Our Lady never moved, nor would we draw aside 
 one inch to give him passage. Dymoke was facing 
 him on the right, Branscombe on the left, when at 
 last he spoke to the Queen. 
 
 " Your Majesty," he said, " I have come to 
 renew my suit, attended by half a million of your 
 devoted admirers." 
 
 Our Lady never stirred. 
 
 " I might," he continued, " have expected a more 
 courteous reception for the Emperor of All the 
 Russias. Yes, my brother, Nicholas, is with the 
 saints, and I am Father of the Russians. My heroic 
 adversary, I have come to offer you the Russian 
 throne in exchange for the British." 
 
 " Sir," said Margaret, " my kingdom is all red 
 flame, my people are the dead, and I will not leave 
 this throne. Of you I can ask nothing for myself, 
 but for my Guardsmen here, and for some poor 
 fugitives yonder — if you have not already murdered 
 them, I ask life." 
 
 " Madam," cried Branscombe, " you ask too 
 much ! I speak for the whole Corps of the Guard ! ' ' 
 
 " Death ! " cried Lancaster, and Browne called 
 " Death ! " and all the rest echoed " Death ! " 
 " Death ! " 
 
 " Your Majesty," said Alexander, " I will provide 
 for the refugees. To these gallant gentlemen I offer 
 
284 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 commissions in my Imperial Guards ; to you, madam, 
 the throne of my Empire and my devoted love." 
 
 Margaret looked down straight into his eyes. 
 " You have a strange way, sir, in revealing your love. 
 How many thousands, and hundreds of thousands 
 of my people have you slaughtered this day in cold 
 blood — my helpless citizens, women, little children, 
 the sick in their beds, the wounded, the dying ! 
 You drunken libertine, you pitiless coward, you 
 butcher of women, I commend you to the Eternal, 
 the Everlasting Justice, No liberal and justly 
 governed realm was ever abandoned by Almighty 
 God, and to Him I appeal now, to His ordeal of 
 battle." 
 
 " At last," cried Dymoke, hoarsely, as drawing 
 off his gauntlet, he struck the Russian Emperor in 
 the face. 
 
 " Your Majesty ! " Alexander drew back, almost 
 choked with rage. " I shall avenge this out- 
 rage ! " 
 
 " Avenge ! Avenge ! " cried Dymoke. " I am 
 Hereditary Champion of England. Draw, I say, 
 draw ! " 
 
 " I do not fight with servants. Stand back, 
 sir ! " 
 
 " With servants, you cur ? My ancestors were 
 Champions of England while yours gnawed horse 
 bones round a camp fire. Draw ! " 
 
 " Harold D3^moke," said our Lady. " No man 
 shall slight you as my Champion. I dub you knight, 
 I give you the Duchy of Gloucester, I create you a 
 Prince of the United Kingdom. Prince Harold of 
 Gloucester, strike that man again 1 "■ 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 285 
 
 Several Russian officers sprang forward attempting 
 to save their master, who had scarcely time to draw^ 
 so swift, so furious the assault. Dymoke disarmed 
 the first, ran the second through, and before he could 
 disengage, was like to be killed when Branscombe 
 intervened. Now fat Branscombe was instructor to 
 the Guard, had once been the first swordsman in 
 Europe, but even he was scarcely safe against six 
 blades at once, and must have fallen, but that 
 Hylton struck in vigorously. Dymoke was with the 
 Emperor now. 
 
 The engagement was general and greatly to our 
 liking — twenty-four Queen's Blackguards against 
 fifty Russians. Our middle-aged opponents knew 
 nothing of swordcraft, their tailor's swords buckled, 
 they were laced up in full-dress uniforms. We cut 
 their line of retreat, flicked the swords from their 
 plump fingers, or, point to throat, forced them to 
 surrender. What could they hope against our youth, 
 our perfect training, our deadly skill at fence, our 
 shirts of mail ? W^e knew that their massed batta- 
 lions dared not fire, the Emperor was dead, the 
 General Staff was captured. 
 
 How can one trace a sequence through that wild 
 confusion which followed ? Even while we com- 
 pelled our prisoners on pain of death to retire their 
 battalions from the Palace, we saw the Russian 
 seamen breaking ranks. The captured officers 
 yelled at them in vain, we could gain nothing by 
 killing our hostages, as the seamen rushed on us 
 brandishing their rifles, hundreds to one against our 
 scattered groups. No reach of sword could give us 
 a fighting chance against such bludgeons as the 
 
286 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 seamen used, nor had we time to rally round the 
 Queen. Taken flank, front, and rear, each for him- 
 self, we measured our short blades against the sledge- 
 hammer blows, and some of us won back to the steps 
 of the dais — and some to the ranks of the Guard 
 beyond the Gates of Death. 
 
 Comparing one with another the memories of 
 that last tremendous struggle for existence, some of 
 us have recalled a series of explosions which made the 
 pavement reel beneath our feet, and more than one 
 of the great onyx columns crash down in ruin on 
 the attacking force. The timbering of the golden 
 dome was all aflame above us littering red-hot 
 wTeckage through the smoke. It was a beam of this 
 burning timber which slew Dymoke, and we heard 
 him calling on Sydney before he died. 
 
 Some of us also have remembrance that with 
 noble courtesy the disarmed ofiicers of the General 
 Staff were attempting to save us from their men. 
 But, for the writer of this history, one recollection 
 only is engraved forever upon a sorely bewildered 
 brain. It is the picture of our Lady standing before 
 her throne. All round her upon the steps of the dais, 
 the swords of her Guardsmen whispered and sang, 
 red gleaming blades, thrusting or slashing, resonant 
 against dark steel of whistling rifles. Above her the 
 emblazoned Guidon drooped in the coiling vapours, 
 at her feet lay Lancaster, his dead face wonderful in 
 its perfect rest. Her hands were on the hilt of her 
 sword, the cloak was drawn about her, ruddy gold 
 and red streamed her hair in the fierce light. Her 
 face was lifted in prayer, radiant with an unearthly 
 beauty, and fearless, and at peace. 
 
THE LAST BATTLE 287 
 
 And the fight raged on as though there never 
 could be an end. 
 
 How strange the end was ! One saw a Russian 
 seaman, his bronzed face glowing with fury, his rifle 
 whirling for the blow — then somehow that rifle was 
 blown to pieces in mid-air ; and the bandolier across 
 the man's shoulder changed to a bolt of lightning ; 
 and his body dismembered, disrupted, gone. Then 
 one looked out across the hall to find it empty, save 
 for the group of Russian officers — while the floor 
 seemed a sea of blood. A voice cried, " Margaret ! 
 Margaret ! " We saw a single man, a great, grim, 
 bloodstained man, looming gigantic in the flame- 
 light, come running towards the dais, his arms 
 stretched out ; and in a reeling, heaving vault of 
 blood and flame, John Brand lifting the Queen in 
 his arms. 
 
 Margaret was saved ! 
 
XXIII 
 
 PRISONER OF LOVE 
 
 IMargaret stirred in her sleep, and with a tremulous 
 sigh wakened. Her fingers touched cool, white linen, 
 creased still where the folds had been, faintly scented 
 from spra^/s of lavender. She saw one ray of sun- 
 light level through soft gloom, and golden motes 
 danced therein like fairies. Above swung rose-silk 
 curtains swaying ever so gently to a ship's motion, 
 and wonder dawned in her eyes. 
 
 Her armour was gone, her dripping sword, the 
 air of flame, the sea of blood, the roar of battle — all 
 gone like a bad dream. She reached out her right 
 hand, and thrust it softly, quivering at the touch, 
 against a man's rough hair. 
 
 The man was kneeling by the bed, his face buried 
 in the white coverlet, his dark hair streaked with 
 silver, and his great, strong arms stretched out as 
 though to guard her even in her dreams. Of dull 
 stained gold, was his rough shirt of mail, torn, ragged, 
 bloody ; then he lifted his head and she saw the 
 grave majesty of his face. Again her hand went out 
 groping until her uncertain fingers touched him — 
 and he was real ! 
 
 " The everlasting life," she whispered. 
 
 And he answered : " It is everlasting Love." 
 288 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 289 
 
 And then the passion leapt into his eyes. " Love 
 me," he cried. " Love me ! Love me, Margaret ! " 
 
 She thrust the palm of her hand against his 
 mouth. 
 
 " Afterwards — but this is the Earth, and so I've 
 got to die. Oh save me. Brand," she cried. " I 
 can't die, now ! I can't die ! How can I die now ! 
 And yet — must I not lead my people on the Other 
 Side, ride with my Guard yonder ? " Her head fell 
 wearily, and her eyes closed. "It is all well — you 
 were true to me." 
 
 He clutched her hand and kissed it passionately. 
 " Margaret ! Margaret ! You shall not die ! " 
 
 " The Palace rocks," she muttered, " like a ship. 
 It was only a little wound, but my neck throbs, and 
 with the daybreak — will it hurt much, Brand, will 
 it be worse than a wound, this death ? " 
 
 " Margaret, you live, England is saved ! Don't 
 you hear, Margaret, can't you understand, I have 
 destroyed the Russian Fleet, I have swept away 
 the armies, delivered London, crushed the League ! 
 Oh, love me a little, Margaret, just a little. I have 
 waited so long, and fought so hard for love." 
 
 " Give me some wine — I can't understand all at 
 once. Give me a little wine." 
 
 He brought a glass of wine, and she, sitting up 
 in bed, made him share with her. The level sun 
 rays shining on her face welcomed a delicate flush 
 of her returning strength, and made her hair an 
 aureole of glory. Then, looking full into the light — 
 
 " I never thought," said Margaret, reverently, 
 " that I should see the sunset." 
 
 " It is the sunrise," he answered. 
 
290 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 " The sunrise ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Where are we ? Not in my Palace ? " 
 
 " The Palace was burned yesterday. This is 
 your Majesty's flagship, the Coronation," Brand 
 crossed to the open port, and, looking out, " There 
 is the Strait of Dover," he said, " and the sun has 
 just risen, turning the North Sea into a field of silver. 
 Above there are little clouds like petals of roses, 
 and all round us the seagulls. Cannot you hear 
 them, Margaret ? " 
 
 " Where is the Siberian Fleet ? " 
 
 " I have destroyed the Siberian Fleet. The 
 Russian Emperor lay dead at your Majesty's feet, 
 and the officers of his General Staff are prisoners in 
 this ship. The Russian Army has surrendered." 
 
 " And the French Army, and the German ? " 
 
 " Surrendered as prisoners of war. I have blown 
 up all their magazines, their ammunition trains to 
 the last cartridge. Their commanders-in-chief are 
 prisoners on board the Virgin." 
 
 " And my people are saved ! " 
 
 Brand came to the bedside, and there kneeling 
 down, kissed our Lady's hand. 
 
 " Oh, love me," he whispered, " just a 
 little ! " 
 
 " And you are alive ! " The blood raced in her 
 veins, her heart was crying out for him. " I saw 
 you in a little ship all alone, dying, I thought ; and 
 underneath there were rivers and lakes, and forests 
 streaming by." 
 
 " You saw me, then ? " 
 
 " In a dream, yes." 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 291 
 
 " Only love dreams like that. You love me, 
 Margaret." 
 
 " I love my country, you were the one hope left, 
 and I saw you dying. Tell me how you come to be 
 alive." 
 
 " Rivers, and lakes, and forest," answered Brand. 
 " You did not see the mountains, then ? Great, big 
 mountains came up against the west, higher and 
 higher, alp piled on alp, precipice on precipice, mile 
 on mile of ice barring the ship's way. They were 
 the Alps of St. Elias. Oh, Margaret — say you love 
 me before I go on." 
 
 " What did you do when the ship came to the 
 mountains ? " 
 
 " She was running right at them, a hundred 
 miles an hour, I couldn't stir hand or foot, and I was 
 being whirled helpless against an enormous cliff." 
 
 Margaret gripped his hand. " Yes ! Go on ! " 
 
 " Then you do love me ? Only love grips like 
 that." 
 
 " Don't I love all my brothers of the Guard ? 
 You wear the dress of my brothers. Please, go on." 
 
 " At the last instant something gave me strength 
 — the thought that the Queen must be saved. I 
 clutched at the levers, I got control of the ship, 
 swung upwards grazing a hanging cornice of green 
 ice, then turning in long circles slowly down, drove 
 my ship into a pineclad slope, and, I think, fainted. 
 When I came to again I was lying beside a camp 
 fire under the shadow of the woods, and far aloft, 
 right up in the full glory of the day, one great white 
 mountain shone against the sky. Some dozen or 
 so of men were sitting round the fire, and I heard 
 
292 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 them in fierce argument. Several maintained that 
 by my dress I must be an officer of her Majesty's 
 Bodyguard, others by portraits they had seen in 
 the newspapers, by my ship the Experiment, and by 
 documents found with me, swore that I was Brand. 
 Then one — a man dressed in deerskin, who seemed 
 to have authority — said that he knew well I was 
 one of the Queen's Blackguards. He knew 
 all about it — had not the last mail brought a 
 letter from his brother newly appointed to that 
 very regiment ? 
 
 " There was something familiar in the man's face, 
 and presently when he came over to render me some 
 small service, I said I knew his brother, Trooper 
 Browne." 
 
 " How strange ! " 
 
 " Such small coincidences have changed the 
 history of the w^orld. Mr. Browne told me that I 
 had been lying in the camp for more than a week, 
 delirious and raving of the Queen. He and his 
 partners were mining rubies — they shall not lack 
 rubies while I live. They were like women in their 
 gentleness, and in their care I gained strength day 
 by day until at last I was able to sit with them by the 
 camp fire, to tell them of the Queen's desperate peril. 
 I need not tell you they were loyal men — they were 
 Canadians and burning to serve with me. Then the 
 day came when I had strength to climb the hill path 
 to where I had left my ship. The miners brought up 
 provisions from the camp, and, crowded on board the 
 Experiment, we sailed, fourteen men — not many for 
 the conquest of the world." 
 
 " But with your terrible etheric power ! " 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 293 
 
 Brand laughed. " The Experiment was not so 
 very terrible. For armament we had three shot- 
 guns, eight axes, a sword, and our pistols — that is 
 until we raided a town and got some rifles. Our next 
 necessity was a modem etheric ship able to ram, to 
 defend herself, and to destroy explosives. We found 
 the Revenge at Denver, in charge of state officials who 
 had the audacity to deny my ownership. After a 
 fight, we got possession, only to find ourselves in a 
 steel prison with neither food nor water. The crew 
 of the Revenge had been dispersed, her engines were 
 disabled, we were attacked by federal troops, and 
 on the fourth day when we were half dead with 
 thirst and hunger, a battery of artillery opened fire. 
 There were only eight of us left when we got the 
 Revenge afloat. She was riddled with shell fire, her 
 splintered sides gaping open, her cabins all in flames, 
 and the shells were screaming past. She rolled till 
 we thought she would turn over, the engines were 
 rocking loose in their bed, she fluttered once as 
 though she were foundering, and my men came about 
 me waiting for the end. I told them of the old 
 Revenge, and how Sir Richard Greville fought a great 
 Spanish Fleet, his courage against their galleons — 
 and how he died breathing the name of his Queen. 
 Could we not fight the new Revenge for Margaret ? 
 They sang the National Anthem while I was testing 
 for strains, and they stopped the singing to cheer 
 when I said the Revenge would live. 
 
 " Denver will never forget the Revenge. I held 
 the city to ransom. The officials must find me my 
 own seamen and engineers, provisions, water, yes, 
 and salute your Union Jack, or I swore Fd not leave 
 
294 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 one man alive in their streets. They did not know 
 I was helpless." 
 
 Margaret's eyes were growing moist as she 
 listened, and when she turned away her head lest he 
 should see her — 
 
 " Don't turn away," he cried, " I can hardly hear 
 myself speak for this roaring sound in my ears. I've 
 gone stark, staring mad with love, and I can't bear 
 it if you turn away." 
 
 " You must not talk like that," said Mar- 
 garet, and her white hand stole out within his 
 reach. " Go on, sir," she added stiffly, and he 
 went on. 
 
 " We found this ship, the Coronation, at Chicago, 
 and the wreck of the Revenge fought a squadron of 
 electric battleships before we captured our prize. 
 With the Coronation I reduced Chicago to terms, 
 then, manned and equipped, set out to find me a fleet. 
 vShip after ship I found in the American cities, cap- 
 tured, manned, provisioned, and drilled them for war. 
 I wonder I ever lived through that delay, knowing 
 that the League had invaded England, that London 
 was besieged, that any moment news might come — 
 that I was too late." He pressed the back of her 
 hand against his lips. " I had command of the air, 
 and nineteen etheric ships of the line when at last I 
 left America. At Lyonesse I embarked ten thousand 
 men, advanced on London, and saw the Royal 
 Standard still floating above the towers of the Palace. 
 I destroyed the Siberian Fleet ; didn't you hear the 
 explosion of their battleships, my royal salute to the 
 Flag ? And then with a landing party I entered 
 the Palace at last, groping through the smoke and the 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 295 
 
 darkness, trying to find the throne-room, wild with 
 fright lest I should be too late. Oh, say that you 
 love me, Margaret ! " 
 
 " I am your prisoner," she answered, softly. 
 " Prisoner of war." 
 
 " Prisoner of love," he cried. 
 " Prisoner of love," she looked into his eyes. " I 
 was such a prisoner long, long ago. What else, do 
 you think, kept me alive, save that I hoped you 
 would come back again. Indeed, I do love you. 
 Go, dear, or I shall cry." 
 
 So Brand was sent away knowing that he had 
 conquered all the world, and that the world is the 
 shadow of God, being made of love. 
 
 ***** 
 A chair of state was set in the saloon of the 
 Coronation, a guard of honour drew up to receive 
 her Majesty, then entered the masters and engineers 
 of Brand's etheric fleet, the seven Canadian fron- 
 tiersmen, and the seventeen men who remained of 
 the Queen's Blackguards. Two of these. Trooper 
 Hylton and Trooper Browne, being badly wounded, 
 were borne in on stretchers. Then her Majesty 
 entered, wearing the uniform of the Guard for the 
 last time, and the American led her to her seat. 
 
 Brand presented his officers and the Canadians, 
 and then our Lady spoke to us. 
 
 Officers of the Fleet, and you, gentlemen, from 
 the Province of Yukon, and you, my dear brothers 
 of the Guard— we have been down into the valley of 
 the Shadow of Death, and we have come back to the 
 living World, humbled by the pitiful compassion 
 which has spared us. Our Empire was threatened 
 
296 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 with dishonour, with enslavement and vassalage to 
 Russia — and millions of our people have given their 
 lives to save us from that shame. Millions have died 
 to save our English freedom, and I speak for all our 
 dead when I say that never while the earth endures 
 shall our Liberty be threatened again. We are given 
 the mastery of the air, and we will use that mastery 
 to make sure that no earthly power shall ever rise up 
 again against our freedom, or against our British 
 peace. For you, whose valour has saved our fallen 
 Empire, I bear such love and gratitude — oh, how can 
 I find words of thankfulness ! I am beggared of 
 love, bankrupt in gratitude, because I never can pay 
 my debts to you. My life shall be the proof that 
 Margaret does not forget, but for the present I beg 
 you hear me by deputy." 
 
 So the Queen ceased, and when much noise and 
 waving of swords had ended, the Master, standing at 
 her right hand began to read these words : — 
 
 " Master Mariners of the Etheric Fleet, her 
 Imperial Majesty has been pleased to grant to 
 your ships, the white Ensign, and every honour 
 becoming vessels of war. Your Commodore 
 takes flag rank as Admiral of the Fleet. Com- 
 manding officers take rank as Captains, First 
 Engineers as Fleet Engineers ; and to your 
 officers and seamen, is given their equivalent 
 naval rank with pay and pension dating from 
 the time of first entry on board an etheric ship, 
 and arrears in full of all the pay which would 
 have been earned in the Imperial Navy. 
 
 " Admiral Watson is created a peer of the 
 United Kingdom, and the Captains and Fleet 
 Engineers will receive the honour of knighthood. 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 297 
 
 " To the gentlemen of the Yukon contin- 
 gent : Her Majesty bestows upon Frederick 
 Browne, a peerage, and creates the rest of you 
 knights. Funds will be granted for the proper 
 maintenance of these dignities. 
 
 " To the lords and gentlemen of the Guard : 
 Those of you who engaged as servant orderlies, 
 will receive the honour of knighthood and funds 
 for the maintenance of your dignities. Those 
 who engaged as troopers of the Guard, her 
 Majesty desires to speak to you, stand for- 
 ward ! " 
 Out of two hundred gentlemen of the Guard, 
 many were on detached service, but there stood 
 forward : Sergeant Branscombe, Corporal du Plessis, 
 Corporal de la Rey, Troopers Lord Ludford, Sir 
 Marshall Poynte, George St. Leven, Patrick Burke, 
 and Alexander Barrie; Trooper Browne and Trooper 
 Hylton were wounded. 
 
 " My brothers," said our Lady, " beyond all 
 accidents of rank and sorrow we have been so drawn 
 one to another in perfect trust and faith, that I am 
 sister to you rather than Queen. I thought once, 
 that being made Queen I must give up everything 
 that was dear to me, no longer be able to trust a 
 friend, but always live separate, lonely and miserable. 
 But when in my bitter need you were still loyal, and 
 when my weakness leaned upon your strength, I 
 learned that where love is there can be no solitude. 
 So even in our last extremity, when we fought side 
 by side, while we prayed for death, it was your love 
 which kept my faith alive and gave me some poor 
 courage. I was almost worthy at last to be your 
 comrade — and we are comrades still." 
 
298 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 Our Lady never knew how the words burnt. Ours 
 was no brotherhood or comradeship, we were not 
 creatures of wood or stone, passionless, but made of 
 flesh and blood which did her worship, for we were 
 men, and she a woman beyond any accident of rank 
 or sorrow. So our great Sovereign Lady spoke to 
 us, and we, with cast down eyes and shame in our 
 hearts, made ready to do her obedience. 
 
 " I have no rewards to offer you, my brothers, 
 you never worked for reward, and you would ask of 
 me nothing but the glory of serving the Empire. 
 You shall serve as my hands serve me, you shall be 
 my hands bearing my whole authority each in your 
 province, you shall be treated as I am treated, with 
 every observance due to kings, you are created 
 Viceroys, you are given power to use my signature, 
 to execute my justice. You are each granted one 
 or more of these etheric ships under your sole com- 
 mand. Each in your province, you will take such 
 Lyonesse ships as you can find, man and equip them 
 for purposes of state. 
 
 " Sergeant Branscombe, I make you Viceroy of 
 Russia, to conquer the Russian Empire, capture the 
 head of the Government and bring him prisoner to 
 me, disarm all troops, destroy all vessels of war, blow 
 up all arsenals and report to me. 
 
 " Corporal du Plessis, you have heard what I said 
 to the Viceroy of Russia, I create you Viceroy of 
 Germany. Capture the Emperor, disarm his Em- 
 pire, and report to me. 
 
 " Corporal de la Rey, I create you Viceroy of 
 France. Capture the President, disarm the Re- 
 public, and report to me. 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 299 
 
 " Trooper, Lord Ludford, I create you my Viceroy 
 in the New World. Go to the President of the 
 United States and, with all delicacy and courtesy, 
 offer him our sympathy and help. With his consent, 
 destroy the enemies of the Republic, and deliver 
 their leaders to him as prisoners of war. Send help 
 to the Viceroy of Canada. 
 
 " Trooper, Sir Marshall Poynte, I create you 
 Viceroy of the Mediterranean States. Destroy all 
 hostile armaments and restore the British peace. 
 
 "Trooper St. Leven, I create you Viceroy of 
 Delhi. You will find India in flames from end to 
 end, and our Government in desperate need. Crush 
 down all insurrection, punish the rebels and muti- 
 neers, and where mercy would seem like weakness, 
 make our justice terrible enough to ensure against 
 any fear for our people. You will find Prince Ali of 
 Haidar reigning at Delhi. Hang him and make 
 proclamation that he is punished as a Russian spy. 
 The Russian invasion you will turn back. You 
 will in all else obey the orders of the Viceroy of 
 India. 
 
 "Trooper Burke, I create you Viceroy of the 
 China Seas. Destroy all hostile armaments, and 
 restore peace throughout your jurisdiction. 
 
 " Trooper Barrie, I create you Viceroy of Africa. 
 Subdue all forces hostile to our Empire, annexing 
 their territories, and restoring our peace. 
 
 " Trooper Browne and Trooper Hylton, you are 
 both created to the rank of Viceroy, and will be com- 
 missioned as soon as your wounds are healed. 
 
 " Viceroys of the Guard, I believe in my heart 
 that this was long ago foretold, this war of all the 
 
300 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 nations — is it not the Armageddon ? And after- 
 wards it is written, that the devil shall be chained 
 up for a thousand years. ' There shall be no more 
 war.' What if it be true ? Peace for a thousand 
 years, the Millennium — the reign of Christ ! Did you 
 ever notice that our flag — see, hanging here above 
 our heads — the Union Jack — does it not bear three 
 crosses ? On Calvary there stood three crosses. 
 You will carry this flag, my brothers, and it shall fly 
 over all lands and seas throughout the world — the 
 holy symbol of the last Crusade, and the founding of 
 the New Jerusalem. It was to be no city built by 
 human hands, but fallen from Heaven — the Planet. 
 The length and the breadth, and the height of it are 
 equal, for it is the round world. There shall be no 
 night there, for the sun shines from everlasting to 
 everlasting. This Earth is a city eternal in the 
 heavens where the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. 
 My knights, I send you out upon this quest to bring 
 peace to the whole earth. Avenge justice, but be 
 merciful, and in wielding your power be very humble. 
 For every act of yours, my people will hold me re- 
 sponsible, for every mistake I shall be judged. Do 
 not let me be brought to judgment for any ruthless 
 abuse of power, or any act of unchristian vengeance- 
 I have placed my honour in your keeping. 
 
 " And when you have restored peace, your power 
 ends, you come back to be citizens of the Empire, 
 obedient as I am to the laws and customs of my 
 people. I am only Queen by their election, not by 
 any authority of my own. In this time of weakness 
 and peril it was my duty to rule, to see that policy 
 was marred by no divided counsels, to stand at the 
 
PRISONER OF LOVE 301 
 
 brunt of danger. So soon as there is peace and 
 safety, I shall deliver back my sovereignty into the 
 hands of those who gave it to me, to the great, free 
 Electorate, my masters, my judges, my kings whom 
 I serve. If they are pleased with me I am still 
 Queen, but not of my own right, only in their love. 
 The only throne of Britain is in the hearts of the 
 British, the only sceptre is the defence of Liberty. 
 
 " These are the terms of your service — and so, 
 my dear brothers, I commend you to God's keeping." 
 
 When she had said that, our Lady rose from the 
 throne and her face became radiant with a new 
 loveliness and glory such as we had never dreamed of. 
 She had forgotten us, her servants, and men-at-arms, 
 and with a great royal gesture, reached out her right 
 hand to Brand, Master of Lyonesse. She never said 
 a word, but stood looking down upon him, as kneel- 
 ing, he took her hand in his, and pressed his lips to 
 her fingers with a reverent kiss. 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 London, i8th June, 2045 
 
 Her Imperial Majesty has been graciously pleased 
 to sanction the publication of this work, and to me 
 is entrusted the preparing of a brief epilogue. 
 
 I am the Trooper Hylton mentioned in the closing 
 chapter, and first knew the author in those far-away 
 times sixty-five years ago — when we were cadets 
 together at the school of arms. I remember Browne 
 as a shy, awkward, dreamy lad, remarkable for his 
 stature — he stood six foot four — with rapidly matur- 
 ing, already gigantic strength, and a physical per- 
 fection marred by the almost grotesque uncouthness 
 of his face. 
 
 A swordsman, second perhaps only to Brans- 
 combe, a horseman not rivalled in his time, Browne's 
 career was marred by hopeless failure in scholarship. 
 
 The " big boy," as he describes himself, was, 
 on the surface, cold and distant, yet desperately 
 eager to win friendship ; but there again his 
 life was marred by that shyness which seemed 
 like icy reserve repelling the kindly approaches of 
 men who cared to know him. Behind that barrier 
 he suffered. 
 
 So he came to the Palace bringing with him the 
 very atmosphere of arctic Canada, great, lonely, 
 remote, uncomely, savage. Because of his training 
 
 302 
 
EPILOGUE 303 
 
 as a cowboy, the silence, the solitude of his early life, 
 he lacked the faculty of easy speech, but he had the 
 deepest, grandest qualities of manhood. And at the 
 moment he joined her Majesty's Bodyguard he made 
 his first friendship with no less a man than Sydney, 
 the Magnificent. The two were friends inseparable, 
 and thus in this book we have our first real insight 
 into the events which led to the Terror. 
 
 It is supposed that before the great Marquess 
 went to meet his death, he commended Browne to 
 her Majesty's special care. The whole corps of the 
 Guard was indignant at the promotion of this young 
 recruit to the securing of our Lady's safety during 
 the night watches, but the Canadian giant justified 
 even that unusual honour. No less than four times 
 he saved the Queen's life, either from the attacks of 
 assassins, or in actual battle. In the fight on the 
 alabaster stairs, there is no doubt that his incom- 
 parable strength, address and valour rescued, not 
 only her Majesty, but her whole escort from 
 massacre, and his lone charge which cleared the 
 upper stairway for our retreat, will go down to 
 history as one of the mightiest deeds in human 
 annals. 
 
 His book ends with the creation of the Viceroys 
 of the Guard, and her Majesty's betrothal to Lyon- 
 esse ; and there is no mention of that winter day 
 when all the presidents and sovereign rulers of the 
 world assembled in St. George's Chapel at Windsor. 
 Browne was then sufficiently recovered from his 
 wounds to attend the solemn service of the Eucharist. 
 He was then a Viceroy of the Guard, and Marquess 
 of Yukon, had been invested with the Garter and in 
 
304 THE CHARIOT OF THE SUN 
 
 response to a petition of Parliament, granted the 
 Victoria Cross for valour. 
 
 But her Imperial Majesty never set any limits 
 to her gratitude towards those who have served her 
 well, and for this Canadian hero she reserved even 
 greater honours. In the celebration of the Eucharist, 
 Brand knelt at her right hand, the Marquess of Yukon 
 on her left, and he was made to stand beside her to 
 receive the surrendered swords of her triumphant 
 Viceroys, all of which, with his own, he laid down 
 before the altar. The emperors, kings, presidents, 
 and reigning sovereigns then one by one broke their 
 swords, and laid the fragments upon the altar, just 
 at the foot of the cross. 
 
 At the last came Margaret, attended by Brand, 
 and by Yukon. Kneeling before the table, she made 
 humble presentation of an unbroken sword, then 
 rising, confronted the assembled sovereigns. 
 
 " In token," she said, " that I desire unbroken 
 peace, I have dedicated this unbroken sword to the 
 solemn service of the King of kings. In token that 
 the nations need have no fear, I sheathe the sword 
 for ever ; and give the sacred trust to this, my 
 servant, Viceroy of the Air." 
 
 The giant, kneeling at her feet, received the 
 sheathed sword of the Millennial Peace. 
 
 " And I do now deliver into his keeping the 
 Etheric Fleet, charging him never to shed human 
 blood, except at the command of the Great Council 
 of Nations to vindicate the Divine Justice upon any 
 people who shall lift rebellious hands against 
 mankind." 
 
 For twenty years this first of the Viceroys of 
 
EPILOGUE 305 
 
 the Air remained in custody of the sheathed sword, 
 a lonely man, and a silent, greatly loved, and greatly 
 suffering. 
 
 His wounds, which in one of lesser strength must 
 have proved mortal, bred in his shattered body 
 malignant growths, of which, aged and weary, he 
 died in his forty-fifth year. To Branscombe he 
 passed on the Trust of the Sword ; and it was in 
 the bed from which he never afterwards rose that 
 he wrote his book, " The Chariot of the Sun," telling 
 the story of his hopeless and unspoken love for the 
 woman he had so valiantly served. 
 
 After his death, in the year 2005, the manu- 
 script was found under seal, addressed to her 
 Majesty, and has not been published until the 
 passions of that time were stilled, and the Terror 
 remains only as a memory seen through the mists 
 of sixty-five fruitful years. 
 
 Last winter, our august and venerable sovereign 
 caused the work to be read aloud to her children 
 and grandchildren, and it is on the plea of the young 
 princes that the story is now given to publication. 
 To the people of the golden age it will seem a very 
 quaint, funny old document, which is concerned 
 with such obsolete virtues as unselfish love, faith, 
 honour, and manliness. 
 
 Hylton, 
 
 Viceroy of the Air. 
 
 THE END 
 
 X 
 
PRINTED BV 
 WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS. LIMITED, 
 LONDON AND BECCLES.