“Oh, I don’t know. It’s a good colour, easily seen. The men are to wear orange, of course. I’m an officer.”
“Captain or Colonel or Knight at Arms?” I asked.
“We haven’t bothered about titles,” said Bob, who did not seem to recognize the question. “We haven’t had time to settle details of any sort. In fact I haven’t much time now. I just dropped in to tell you that you needn’t be nervous about to-night. We have our men well under control, and the police ought to be able to deal with the rabble. If they can’t—if there’s any sign of rioting—we step in and stop it at once.”
He pulled a revolver from his coat pocket as he spoke. It gave us the necessary information about the way in which rioting was to be stopped.
“I shall be on patrol all night,” he said. “My orders—”
“By the way,” I said, “excuse my asking a stupid sort of question. But who gives you your orders? Who is Commander-in-Chief?”
“Conroy, of course. Didn’t you know? He organized the whole thing. Wonderful head Conroy has. I don’t wonder he became a millionaire. He has his men under perfect control. They may not look starchy when you see them in the streets, but they’ll do what they’re told. I thought you and Lord Moyne would be glad to know, so I dropped in to tell you. I must be off now.”
He got as far as the door and then turned.
“Marion and Lady Moyne got away all right,” he said. “I saw them off.”