"I never thought," said Margaret, reverently, "that I should see the sunset."
"It is the sunrise," he answered.
"The sunrise?"
"Yes."
"Where are we? Not in my Palace?"
"The Palace was burned yesterday. This is your Majesty's flagship, the Coronation," Brand crossed to the open port, and, looking out, "There, is the Strait of Dover," he said, "and the sun has just risen, turning the North Sea into a field of silver. Above there are little clouds like petals of roses, and all round us the seagulls. Cannot you hear them, Margaret?"
"Where is the Siberian Fleet?"
"I have destroyed the Siberian Fleet. The Russian Emperor lay dead at your Majesty's feet, and the officers of his General Staff are prisoners in this ship. The Russian Army has surrendered."
"And the French Army, and the German?"
"Surrendered as prisoners of war. I have blown up all their magazines, their ammunition trains to the last cartridge. Their commanders-in-chief are prisoners on board the Virgin."