“A Jacobite Democracy! The triumph of the People under the ægis of the White Rose!”
No one interrupted, and Gaveston continued con fuoco.
“The ubiquitous support of constitutional monarchy as our foreign policy! A Stuart as governor-general for every colony! A cottage and a white rose garden for every working man! And down, down, down with the Usurper from Germany!”
“And where does your real King live, Gav?” asked Mongo with his inscrutable, and often perhaps unmeaning, smile. But none knew.
“All the laws made since the intrusion of Hanoverian George must be nulled and voided, and we shall have a clean slate to write on. But I must insist on the democratic nature of our programme. The old legitism is worse than useless: we must be Jacobins as well as Jacobites! With such a policy we cut the ground from beneath the feet of Socialists and Conservatives alike. And then our only opponents will be the Liberals, famous only as a discredited and disappearing faction—we shall augment their unenviable fame. And our ensign, you ask?”
The question was rhetorical.
“Our ensign shall be the Hammer of Labour encircled by White Rose!”
While the enthusiastic applause rang among the rafters, O’Neill hurriedly added this device to his cover design. And soon afterwards all retired to their rooms, not, on this night of nights, to sleep, but each to elaborate his first contribution to the new organ.