The policeman is lying motionless on the floor of the van. The two step across him, and pass quickly out of the wheeled prison. As they do so the people press forward to welcome their hero, for to them, in spite of the rumours, Gloria de Lara is still Hector D’Estrange. She has mounted her horse, and raised her hand to enjoin silence. The police escort has been overcome; its members are passively accepting what to them is the inevitable. They have sought to do their duty. They can do no more. “Friends,” she calls out in the voice they know and love so well, “I have been unjustly accused and unjustly condemned. If it were not so, I would not accept the rescue brought me by my faithful women guards, aided by your kindly and generous devotion. My enemies are those who would fight against true progress, and the abolition of scandals and wrongs which must destroy this great nation with their wickedness, unless abolished in time. I have sought to probe to their root these scandals and these wrongs, have sought to submit to you the quickest and surest way to remedy them. I tell you that the greatest evils we have to face are the social ones. To them I ascribe all the sufferings and sins of the poor, the sins and false position of the rich. There are bad laws which must be done away with, good ones which must be set up to accomplish such social reform. Before you can do this you must set Nature on an even footing, and do away with the artificial barriers which you have raised against woman’s progress and advancement; for until she has the same powers and opportunities as man, a thorough and exhaustive reform of the evils which afflict Society, will never be efficiently undertaken. “And now, my friends, we are on the eve of a great revolution. If the people will stand by me, I will stand by them. Let us loyally determine to carry this great question to a successful issue, nor rest till it has been accomplished. I am going to trust myself amongst those whom I have ever loved, whose condition I have sought to raise. Yet ere doing so, I have one confession to make to you. Hector D’Estrange, whose advancement has been rapid and unparalleled almost in the annals of statesmanship, must be no longer known to you under that name. The time has come when I must confess myself. Before you you see one of the despised and feeble sex, the unfitted to rule, the inferior of man. _I am a woman!_ Henceforth I am no longer Hector D’Estrange, but Gloria de Lara.” She has ceased speaking, and begun to move her horse through the crowd. Men and women press round her to kiss her hand. Poor men are more generous than rich ones. With rare exceptions, the fire of suffering purifies from self, and makes the heart appreciate true worth more readily. It is the people’s voice that generally forces on all great reforms; it is the people’s will that carries everything before it, when the reform required is a just one.