"What are the terms?"
"I will give you back these papers when you have earned them. You shall live on, Chancellor of the British Empire, honoured, reverenced. When you die a state funeral will attend you to the grave, and another truly British monument will disfigure that poor old Abbey."
Ulster cast about for a weapon, and the Emperor, divining this, chuckled.
"Under my cloak," he said, "I've got an automatic, over your house my yacht. You need have no fear. Indeed, I know the limitations of your power as Chancellor, and shall not press too hard. Now as to terms: I permit you, my Lord Duke, to save your country from the Franco-German invasion. But you will complete the Anglo-Russian Treaty on the terms proposed by my ambassador."
"My colleagues would never consent," cried Ulster, "I should be thrown out of office."
"Tell your colleagues that unless the treaty is signed, Russia will join the Franco-German alliance. My share is India. They will consent.
"Secondly, your Grace, I have to tell you that my brother the Grand Duke Alexander Alexandrovitch was lately slighted by the young Queen. She shall marry him."
"Sir, she would die first!"
"She shall marry him, and your Government shall make the offer of her hand.
"Thirdly, my Lord Duke, I will be secured from any future treachery. You will personally entrust me with the Formula of the Fleets."