“Of old sat Freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet, Above her shook the starry lights, She heard the torrents meet.” But now? Could Freedom sit unmoved? “Grave mother of majestic works, From her isle-altar gazing down, Who, God-like, grasps the triple-forks, And King-like wears the crown.” But now? Could Britain’s navy hold the triple-forks against her foe? It was a solemn question, which, in that dark Christmastide, many asked themselves, in doubt and fear. The old national spirit, proud and patriotic, that, spite of blood and toil, had carried Freedom to the splendid heights, had lapsed from its virility. What could England hope from the hordes of stunted, ill-fed, debilitated men and youths who for months past had been thronging the streets of her capital, and taking ransom from its nerveless and submissive middle-class citizens? The hour had come. The drugged giant must awake and fight for life, or lie at the proud foot of a conqueror! CHAPTER XXVIII IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE The daring _coup de main_ of Marcus White had met with the most amazing and complete success. With the exception of the Chancery judges, who, for purposes of criminal law, were a negligible quantity, every judge and magistrate entrusted with the maintenance of law and justice in the capital of England had been swept into one net. There could be no summons, warrant, or indictment, in the absence of these judicial officers, anywhere outside the City boundary. Arrests would be idle, for no magisterial hearing or trial could follow. The strong arm of the law, already greatly weakened, now was wholly paralysed! One and all, the judges and magistrates had disappeared, carried by a cockleshell steamer into the mystery of the darkness and the sea. People were full of their own affairs, “fear was in the way,” and apprehension for themselves and their families left men but little power or wish to think about the functionaries of State. Moreover, on Christmas Eve the colossal outrage became known to only a very few, and knowledge came too late for any attempt to arrest the steamer in her reckless rush into the night. Heads of departments had gone out of town--eager to escape the depression of the looming Christmas holiday in London. The War Office, the Admiralty, and the Home Office were in charge of messengers and caretakers. These circumstances, carefully counted on by the wire-pullers of Germany, had also played into the hands of Marcus White in his long-cherished, revengeful war against the representatives of the law of England.