The King turned abruptly to the Duke.
"Who are these men with medals?" he asked.
"The Legion of Veterans, sir," the Duke replied. "Their old Commander-in-Chief raised his hand, and thousands of them fell in, at once, all over the country. They reinforced the police and the military. There was no need for us to enrol special constables. The Field Marshal asked that they might be given some post of honour today in recognition of their services. It was decided that they should line the Mall here, and provide an auxiliary guard at the palace."
And so, guarded now by men whose loyalty had been tried and tested on a dozen battlefields, the carriage passed up the Mall, and swung, at last, through the great central, wrought iron gates, into the quadrangle, in front of the palace—
The Duke was down, and out of the carriage, in a moment.
The King stepped out of the carriage, after him.
The Duke fell back, half a dozen paces behind the King, and a little to one side—
A massed band of the Guards, drawn up in the centre of the quadrangle began to play the National Anthem.
High up, on the flagstaff above the palace roof, the Royal Standard rose, and, caught by the wind, shook out, at once, every inch of its silken folds.
Above the flagstaff a score, or more, of decorated aeroplanes swerved, and dived, firing red, white, and blue rockets, a signal seen all over London.