"Only my word," answered Sydney. "You doubt my word!"
"Not I. But imagine this case tried by the House of Lords, the judges being Ulster's friends with the fear of their own downfall if they failed him."
Lord Sydney rose distracted and paced the floor, unnerved, broken.
"And you are going to fail me?" he cried.
"Easy, boy, easy," said Brand, relighting his pipe, "that kind of play never scored at school. The games must be played more soberly to be won."
"Don't preach at me, Brand," said the other roughly. "Ah, forgive me! If you only knew—you've never seen her, have you? But if you saw the Queen, you would understand, for she is brave as a lion, stainless as the lilies, her voice makes us mad with love; yet she is our Lady, and we scarcely dare to look her in the face. And she is to be sold to infamy! Oh, God, what can I do, what can I do to save her?"
"Lord Sydney, you forget yourself."
My lord looked at him, his eyes narrowing, his mouth hardened, his whole face freezing with self-suppression.
"Yes, that is so, Mr. Brand. Back to the facts then," he laughed nervously, "we have to fight the Chancellor, we have to fight the Government. Then there is Russia to fight, and Europe."
Brand went to the window, and there stood looking out. Beyond the pavement and the trees rose all that city which his fathers and himself had built upon the storm-swept moors of a wild headland, his walls the cliffs, his moat the Atlantic; and this bastion of our island stronghold was not unworthy to guard the British Realm.