"Madam, remember the blood royal of that great race which has for twenty centuries reigned in this island. Your ancestors never failed the nation, though many died for England, and all have suffered for her. Is Margaret less royal, less brave, than they? If the Queen fails us now, this coming world-storm of financial panic will bring the great invasion on our coasts. We need in our sovereign, courage sprung from a race of kings." The Queen was in torment, and now in the background of her mind, a sunburnt, manly gentleman was speaking of his cottage on the cliffs, of his sister Sarah, who was plain, of the surf which beat upon the rocks, and the spray which drove for miles, and the spindrift high in air above the storm-lashed granite of Lyonesse. "There will be war," said Ulster. "Thousands must die upon the field of battle. Women must cry, and orphan children must starve." "Let there be war," cried Margaret. "War is better than shame." "Your Majesty, if war can save us from shame--let there be war. But when we are overwhelmed, when all our people are given over to their enemies, then there is shame. When our bread-winners, ruined by the invasion, must starve to pay indemnity to Europe--then there is shame. And shall the last of our great sovereigns leave us to shame like that?" Margaret, standing between the glow of the lamps and the soft pallor of the night, robed in a texture of changing glory like the wings of angels, looked up to the smiling face of the dead moon. Must she, like that poor servant of the world, the life fire quenched and hope utterly perished, move on an orbit of unending patience, and by a borrowed light from Heaven shine for cold duty's sake before mankind? So many a woman with a broken heart has made of her living death a light for men. VIII THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS The mother of Parliaments was in session, that venerable and most majestic court which struck the fetters from our slavery and made us free. Here was the serfcreated citizen, here we gained liberty of Faith, freedom of utterance, freedom of education, freedom of commerce. And here Brand cut the last shackle of all our chains, and gave us the free finance. There is no need to repeat his words. He had mankind for audience, and those words will never be forgotten. Consider, then, what he did: _He moved to save the Empire from Ulster's treason._ _For the confounding of the Leagued Nations, and to take our enemies at unawares, he hastened the fall of gold._ _To be exact, at three days' notice, he offered ounce ingots of fine gold at a penny each to be sold by the Bank of Lyonesse in every large town throughout the world._ _He promised to accept British money at full value, giving in exchange the Labour currency as used in America and at Lyonesse._