"My Lords,"—her Majesty turned upon the attendant Ministers—"you have heard me say that this Bill concerning Mr. Brand must be again considered before we make it an Act of Parliament. You have heard my Chancellor threaten deposition, even death, as though the Queen could be bullied with the blustering of so pitiful a coward. As a woman I demand your protection from this man, as your Sovereign we command you to obey."
The Chancellor tried to interfere.
"Silence," cried Margaret. "Silence! I, the Queen, am speaking, and I, not the Parliament, am England. My Lords, I charge this man, my subject, with being a paid spy and agent of Russia. He has attempted to imprison Mr. Brand because he is loyal and has come to my defence. He has betrayed the Formula of my Fleets. I command you to seize the Duke of Ulster, and to hold him as my prisoner. You shall disobey me at your peril. Arrest that man!"
But these Ministers, supposing Margaret to be insane, backed slowly out from her presence.
X
THE DAWN OF THE TERROR
We have been slow to anger with our kings, grateful if they were not altogether bad, tolerant through much evil. One very shifty exponent of Heaven's grace we killed, but, indeed, we were sorry afterwards, made him a statue, mourned for him, dubbed him the Martyr, and set up the son in his place, who was seven times worse.
And even when we, the Democracy, took the burden of Government on ourselves we did not grudge our allegiance, supplies, apparel, and dignity of state to the princes of Britain. English or foreign, good, or bad, or infamous, we loved them as much as ever. We were not unmindful of the leaders who fought and bled for England long ago, but rather we upheld in gratitude and loving memory the ancient symbols of dead power. Crown, sceptre, throne, were reverenced on bended knees, by a people who, being kings, had become regal, both in might and in their courtesy.
There cannot be two sovereignties in this realm. When her Majesty attempted to wield in very deed the royal power, she found that the iron sceptre of her fathers had withered to a reed, and in her hands broke. She was no longer Queen.
At midnight Parliament knew nothing of Ulster's treason, knew nothing of Brand's purport to strike the Leagued Powers down before they had time to attack. These lords and gentlemen of the Imperial Council, the Peers, and the Commons, waiting for the Chancellor's return with the royal assent, were loyal men representing the whole federation of the Empire, in honour bound to maintain the sovereignty of the people. But they saw that with the Imperial currency discredited by Brand, and Lyonesse money discredited by Government, the sun would rise upon conditions of general panic.