"And I," said her Majesty, "command the nation, the feudatories, the colonies, the seas, the air--the British Empire. I am chosen by my people their anointed sovereign, guardian of their liberty, Defender of their Faith. The throne is not yours, General, or mine. It belongs to the people who make the laws, and we are their servants--their servants, General. When we have conquered the League, I will ask my people what kind of Government they want, who they will have as their President or their Sovereign. I will obey their orders, but, by God, not yours!" "You propose to fight my armies?" "No, I would not have one of my people hurt in such a quarrel. I have half a million men, to fight Russia, France, and Germany--not one to spare for you." "What do you propose?" A man had come to the head of the upper stairway, Sir Myles Strangford, Secretary for War. "Where is the Queen?" he cried. "Gentlemen of the Guard, where is the Queen? I have great news--victory! victory! Our squadron of etheric rams has met the Franco-German fleets. Victory! Victory!" How the Guard cheered! Then her Majesty sent for Sir Myles, and he was brought to her. "Tell me," she said, laughing as he kissed her hand, "who is this General O'Brien? He claims to be the President of some Republic." Sir Myles looked up towards General O'Brien and laughed also. "Does he offer, madam, to meet the etheric rams in battle?" "Woman," cried General O'Brien, "I am not here to be insulted--surrender, or I shall take this Palace by assault." "You would assault a hospital!" Margaret rose from her seat, went over to the President, and, slowly drawing her sword-- "You would assault a hospital!" The sword whirled above her head, and with the flat of the blade, she struck heavily upon his shoulder. "Sir George O'Brien," she cried, "are you my knight, or are you my enemy? Take your choice." "What do you mean?" he retorted in fury. "I mean that you are knighted in my service, and commissioned Lieutenant-General to meet the Russian invasion, or that you draw your sword, Mr. O'Brien, and fight." "This is an outrage!" "Take it as an outrage, Mr. George O'Brien, rebel. It's easy enough to assault hospitals, easy enough to send brave men to their death. You have three hundred thousand soldiers, I half a million; but I cannot spare one life in either army--I can spare you. What's that sword at your side? Is it only an ornament? Have you no courage beyond assaulting hospitals? Draw, you coward, and fight!" Here, Dymoke, as Champion of England, demanded leave to engage, but our Lady waved him aside, being in no mood for interference. As to General O'Brien, he was not so eager. "I cannot possibly fight you. This is madness!" "Sir, choose your own weapons, broadsword or rapier; I value my life less than I value yours. There's no room for both of us in the world. Draw, or I'll kill you. Draw, I say, draw!" "I do not fight with women."