The hubbub was subdued by the chairman’s voice. Alistair had been bored by the debate, much as a boy fresh from his first term at school is bored by the forgotten interests of the nursery. He felt that he had outgrown all this kind of thing; it was wide of the mark; it led nowhere, and promised nothing. But he was in just that mood when action of any kind offered a temptation which it was impossible to resist, and he felt a keen pleasure in asserting himself for the last time among those who had been his followers for so long.
“Before Des Louvres talks about being afraid, suppose he tells us what he wants us to do?”
The mutterings of strife died down, and all eyes were turned on the Count. His response was ready instantly.
“I consider the Guild ought to issue a formal Assertion of the right of Queen Mary III. to the throne.”
“Have you got the Assertion there?”
Des Louvres produced it, and read it aloud. It was received in dead silence.
“Well,” said Alistair, “what next? What do you want to do with that thing?”
“It ought to be posted up all over London, the moment the death of the Queen is announced.”
“Who is to post it up?”
This time Des Louvres had no answer ready. He glanced doubtfully round the uneasy faces of his colleagues, and drew his own conclusions. Dyke could not resist a sneer.