Margaret was stroking the man's bowed head. "Sydney," she whispered, "I loved her. And Trooper Browne is here."
"Browne is deaf," said my Lord.
"Browne is deaf," echoed the man who loved him.
"But Margaret hears," said our Lady; "and Margaret understands."
"In Ulster's office,"—my Lord looked down at the rippled lake—"I overheard an exchange of messages between his Royal Highness and the Lord Protector. Of all spies and eavesdroppers I seem the most fortunate."
"Oh, Sydney, you have news of Lyonesse?"
"Madam, for three days past, Ulster has been in possession of the city."
Our Lady uttered a low cry of fear.
"He captured one of the great etheric liners—the Golden Hind. Brand had but one ship, the Lion, on guard above his cottage at the time his Ministers assembled. The Lion was rammed by the Golden Hind, and fell right on the crown of the Tol Pedn cliffs, and the very rocks on which the cottage stood were thrown down the wall into the sea."
"I cannot bear it, Sydney! I cannot bear it!"