It seemed to me that that homely speech was as fine an eulogium of the dead as could have been spoken by the most cultured tongue. I often wonder now what I should have done, had I known the part I had unconsciously played in that terrible drama. At that moment, lying, no one knew where--perhaps in the crevice of some paving-stone, or carried into the water-table by a passing shower--was a small piece of black wax, which, could it have spoken, would have been able to tell a tale without its equal for treachery and villainy in all the world. How I became aware of this, you will learn as my story progresses. CHAPTER VI The catalogue of woes, which it has been my ill-fortune to be compelled to chronicle, is indeed a long one, but of all the items I have set down, none had had such a terrible effect upon the public mind as the assassination of the Prime Minister. Expressions of genuine sorrow poured forth from every side, and party feeling, for the time being at least, was forgotten. Even the most antagonistic of the Continental journals, though perhaps rejoicing in their hearts at Great Britain's misfortune, admitted that she was passing through a time of severe trial, and while they prophesied our ultimate downfall, showed very plainly their admiration for our fortitude. Indeed the self-control of the nation at this particular period was a little short of marvellous. The war was draining her of her best blood; those at the helm of the Ship of State were being one by one mysteriously done away with; she had been the victim of a vast scheme of false intelligence, her great arsenal had been blown up and the supply of munitions of war thereby seriously imperilled at the most critical juncture; a large proportion of her army were prisoners in the enemy's hands, and three other portions were locked up in beleaguered towns. Yet, with it all, she continued the struggle with as much determination as she had first entered upon it. The bull-dog tenacity permeated all classes; it was shared by the peer, the country squire, the small farmer, the tradesman and the artizan; it was voiced by the Prime Minister, and echoed by the costermonger. Whatever it might cost, England was resolved to win in the end. That end, however, was still far off, and much blood would have to be spilt and a large amount of money spent before we should be able to call ourselves the victors.