"And when you have restored peace, your power ends, you come back to be citizens of the Empire, obedient as I am to the laws and customs of my people. I am only Queen by their election, not by any authority of my own. In this time of weakness and peril it was my duty to rule, to see that policy was marred by no divided counsels, to stand at the brunt of danger. So soon as there is peace and safety, I shall deliver back my sovereignty into the hands of those who gave it to me, to the great, free Electorate, my masters, my judges, my kings whom I serve. If they are pleased with me I am still Queen, but not of my own right, only in their love. The only throne of Britain is in the hearts of the British, the only sceptre is the defence of Liberty. "These are the terms of your service--and so, my dear brothers, I commend you to God's keeping." When she had said that, our Lady rose from the throne and her face became radiant with a new loveliness and glory such as we had never dreamed of. She had forgotten us, her servants, and men-at-arms, and with a great royal gesture, reached out her right hand to Brand, Master of Lyonesse. She never said a word, but stood looking down upon him, as kneeling, he took her hand in his, and pressed his lips to her fingers with a reverent kiss. EPILOGUE London, 18th June, 2045 Her Imperial Majesty has been graciously pleased to sanction the publication of this work, and to me is entrusted the preparing of a brief epilogue. I am the Trooper Hylton mentioned in the closing chapter, and first knew the author in those far-away times sixty-five years ago--when we were cadets together at the school of arms. I remember Browne as a shy, awkward, dreamy lad, remarkable for his stature--he stood six foot four--with rapidly maturing, already gigantic strength, and a physical perfection marred by the almost grotesque uncouthness of his face. A swordsman, second perhaps only to Branscombe, a horseman not rivalled in his time, Browne's career was marred by hopeless failure in scholarship. The "big boy," as he describes himself, was, on the surface, cold and distant, yet desperately eager to win friendship; but there again his life was marred by that shyness which seemed like icy reserve repelling the kindly approaches of men who cared to know him. Behind that barrier he suffered. So he came to the Palace bringing with him the very atmosphere of arctic Canada, great, lonely, remote, uncomely, savage. Because of his training as a cowboy, the silence, the solitude of his early life, he lacked the faculty of easy speech, but he had the deepest, grandest qualities of manhood. And at the moment he joined her Majesty's Bodyguard he made his first friendship with no less a man than Sydney, the Magnificent. The two were friends inseparable, and thus in this book we have our first real insight into the events which led to the Terror.