“No, no,” he interposed hastily, “no apology is either necessary or proper. I asked your opinion; you’ve given it. An honest opinion is always deserving of respect; the more frank and outspoken, the better it is. That which I take exception to is not the words themselves, but at such words from you—YOU!”
“From me!” exclaimed the Professor. “And why particularly from me?”
“From you, sir,” continued the General, with fiery emphasis, “or from any man of your day. Isn’t it to the men of your day that we owe the examples we follow? If I mistake not it was precisely the men of your time who first taught to this land the lesson of the concentration of capital; wasn’t it your capitalists who first promulgated the theory of their divine appointment to the control of the good things of this world?”
“That theory was the theory of the Few; not of the Many,” objected the Professor.
“It was certainly tolerated and permitted by the people of your time,” retorted General Mainwarren, “and in pursuing my course I’m only following out that which has been a sanctioned time-honored custom. If the people objected to these things, the proper time to have stopped them was when they first began. I forgive your words, Professor Dean; I bear no rancor. But such words coming from a man of your era is, upon my honor, like the pot calling the kettle black!”
The Professor was about to reply, but his answer was cut short by the entry of a servant, bringing a card to Colonel Cuming. The Colonel took the card from the salver, glanced at it and gave a direction to the servant, who immediately retired.
Rising and holding between his fingers the card which had been brought to him, he faced the others:
“A messenger from His Majesty, the King,” he said.
CHAPTER VIII
MR. KEARNS HAS A PREMONITION
For some moments after the Colonel had left the room the three men sat in silence. Then General Mainwarren turned to the Professor.