II
Sir Jules Achon's yacht was in dock when Faber awoke late next day, and he learned with some surprise that it had reached the Solent yesterday, and was anchored a little while in Portsmouth harbour, until, indeed, Rupert Trevelle went aboard with news of the Savannah. Then Sir Jules sailed for Southampton immediately, and so the master minds met at last, each with his own story of the tremendous days. Faber thought the baronet a little worn by his labours; but his zeal was unchanged, and he still looked toward that goal of life where the peace of the world should be won. The Tsar, he said, was still unwilling to come in; but he had obtained much encouragement at the minor courts, especially those of the south-east of Europe. For England herself, he had little hope in the matter. The old imagination had failed his countrymen. The petty issues, not the greater, were discussed in the market place.
"This should be a story of three kings," he said, "and they must recreate the world. In your country, you have built an altar to humanity which never can be cast down. We learn slowly in Europe, for we are blinded by the glitter of ancient arms. In more material things, the shopkeeping instinct is the foe of progress. When I can throw down the commercial barriers, I can cast out war. The field is mighty, but the labourers are few. If I were not already in my sixty-fourth year, I would hope to see the noblest day in the story of man. As it is, I can but sow and leave those who come after me to reap."
Faber said that none of them could hope to do more.
"We are up against the animal instinct, and that is as old as Eden. You know my view. If peace is to be won for humanity, it will be by the brains and the money of those who lead humanity. This country has had a terrible fight, and everyone is crying out for this or that to be done. I shouldn't wonder if it all ended in nothing being done. Men talk the old platitudes the while they read their newspapers and ask what Germany or Spain has the intention of doing. I don't blame the war party, for it is its business to make war. God knows, I've seen enough of that to last me a lifetime, and when I go back to New York, it will be to live on the hill-top. But others will carry on my business, and it will have to be carried on. The day when any European nation disarmed for reasons of sentimentality would be the last day of its freedom. We must deal with facts as they are; we cannot run ahead of the great company of men, for assuredly we shall fall if we do."
Sir Jules was in accord with all this. He spoke fervently of what the big men were doing. Andrew Carnegie and Taft and Bryce at Washington. An atmosphere was being created, but he feared its artificiality. Commerce was the key, he repeated; remove the commercial bias and the day was won. For Faber's promise to become one of the presidents of the Federation League, he was very grateful. "You have done much for this country," he said; "your name will mean a great deal to me."
They fell afterwards to talking of their more domestic affairs. Sir Jules said that his daughter Eva had gone to Winchester to lunch with a friend, but he expected her to dinner. The same hesitation which had led Faber to defer his departure upon so many recent occasions, now prompted his acceptance of the suggestion that he should join the party, and he went over to the Savannah immediately to dress.
"I'll weigh to-morrow anyway," was his word at parting. "My skipper doesn't like these waters in the dark, and I've got to consider him. Eight o'clock, I think you said, Sir Jules? You'll be alone, of course?"
"My daughter and I; it will be a pleasure to both of us."
III