"And its object is—sympathy——?"
"Pah! Sympathy! Sedition, lad, sedition, brewed and stirred here for English palates by French cooks like Marcel Trouet. Pamphlets, such as ought to bring the writers to the gallows, are sown broadcast amongst the people, army, and navy, urging them on to follow Johnny Crapaud's example, and drag down all law and existing order. Yes, and this fine Society of which I am speaking is the worst of all, because it works in the dark. No one knows the five names of the governing committee, though there are over seven thousand enrolled in the ranks. And, as I have said, the French Republicans do something more than smile on their English friends. That is why such men as Monsieur Trouet sit at English tables as honoured guests. Do you understand?"
Michael's face was very white.
"And my father?"
Guy Barton shrugged his shoulders.
"I have not Sir Stephen Berrington's personal acquaintance now," he observed. "But he and Morice Conyers are excellent comrades." He laid his hand on his companion's shoulder.
"I have told you this," he said gently, "for two reasons. Firstly, because Sir Henry was my very dear friend—and your father is his son, and a Berrington. Secondly, because little Gabrielle Conyers holds a daughter's place in my heart, and—well—I saw the child greet you. You understand? If her brother goes mixing himself up with seditious societies and the like, she will need a strong arm and more than one honest friend. Morice should have more respect for his sister than to bring home his John Denninghams and Marcel Trouets."
Hand gripped hand there in the moonlight, but, before Michael had time to answer, a burst of song and an opening casement interrupted him.
"Let's drink and be jolly and drown melancholy,
So merrily let us rejoice, too, and sing.
So fill up your bowls, all ye loyal souls,
And toast a good health, to great George our King."
A roar of laughter and stamping followed the chorus, whilst out on to the terrace came lurching a trio of half-drunken revellers, their wigs awry, waistcoats wine-stained, faces flushed and excited.