The chief in question, the first Lord of the Treasury, the Prime Minister of Great Britain and Ireland, is the Duke of Devonsmere, a tall, aristocratic-looking man, with thick moustaches, whiskers, and beard, in which the grey hairs of advancing age are rapidly gathering. He has thick lips, a not very pleasant eye, and a forehead chiefly remarkable for the crease or wrinkle, which, starting from the centre, runs down perpendicularly to meet the nose. He has a voice far from genial; and, in fact, his manner all round is cold, and haughty, and unwinning. The duke is a good speaker. That is his chief _forte_. He has not particularly distinguished himself through life as a great politician, though he has held high posts in various Ministries. He has been Secretary for War in a former Ministry, but seceded from his chief when this latter brought in his Irish Home Rule Bill. No one has ever been able to accuse the Duke of Devonsmere of attempting to aggrandise himself. In politics he has been strictly honest according to his lights, though many believe that in the old days of Conservatives and Liberals, he would have graced more appropriately the ranks of the former, which as a Unionist he eventually joined. However, those days are past. There are no Liberals, or Conservatives, or Unionists now. The former having adopted the Progressist title, the two latter become merged in the National party, of which party the Duke of Devonsmere is the head. The position which he holds at this moment is an awkward one. His is only a provisional Ministry, held together by the temporary support of the Progressist party, the natural and avowed enemy of the Nationals. But the hatred of the Progressists for the D’Estrangeites is so intense, that for a time their minor enmity with the Nationals is merged and forgotten in this new and greater one. It is, therefore, with such assistance as this, that the duke, with a Cabinet chiefly distinguished for its dulness and want of perspicacity, is endeavouring to cope with the extraordinary state of affairs, that has arisen on the defeat of Hector D’Estrange’s policy, and the revolution which has resulted from the events following upon that defeat. Gloria de Lara is at large. Although warrants have been issued for her arrest as well as that of Lady Flora Desmond, no traces of either have yet been discovered. Of course the officials of Scotland Yard surrounded Montragee House, and demanded admission soon after the former’s rescue; but when at length the great front door was thrown open for the admittance of the officers of the law, they were received only by Lord Bernard Fontenoy, who smilingly regretted that he could afford them no information or assist their search in any way. All he knew was that his brother had left him in charge of Montragee House during his unavoidable absence. Clearly there was very little to be extracted from the youthful lord.