He stood up and his slow glance went outward from sylvan parks and tree-girt palaces to long-drawn lines of bright-hued garden roofs, sky-piercing domes, and sun-gilt monuments, a valley of terraced buildings, stone-clad hills, heights overflowed, and towered heights beyond, suburbs which rivalled Babylon and Rome, and still no visible limits bounded London. Ships beat the clear air with unnumbered wings, yachts from the suburbs, aerial liners home from distant towns, and far above the grim destroyers soared. So fared the illustrious Capital of the world just at the last end of the electric age. The momentary tumult had died away. "How quiet it is," he said, looking down to the streets; "and all the poor folk must think that the last trumpet has sounded, that this is the Day of Judgment." "Because of your crime and mine," said the Queen, in bitterness. "Oh, why did I listen to you? Why did I attempt to save myself from the Grand Duke at such a price as this!" "Do not be angry," he answered, resting his elbows on the balustrade. "The big clouds roll up the sky, there's lightning and thunder, a huge, tremendous roar that makes everybody frightened, the rain splashes down and smokes up, the drenched earth quivers and steams--and then we all feel much better, and the Chariot of the Sun shines high in Heaven." She turned in coldness from him. "I have seen," she said. "And I have seen," he answered, wearily. "So Ulster sent his troops to guard the Palace? That was thoughtful of him." He leaned heavily upon the balustrade and turned a wan face, smiling. "I have seen Ulster make me a poor man this morning. He has three hundred million sterling now to help the people through this trouble: he will save me a deal of work. I have seen him capture my transports laden with food, my stores and warehouses of provisions, my two thousand bread shops which were to open this morning. He kindly undertakes the work of feeding eighty million people for me. If a few millions go hungry now is it my fault that I gave, or Ulster's blame that he stole?" "Only a few millions!" the Queen moaned. "Oh, horrible! horrible! Only a few millions dying of hunger because of your crime and mine." "Nay," he answered, gently; "because Ulster has taken the food I gave to the people. But for that seizure, no man need have starved. They will understand. All night I have been busy that the world might understand. To the newspapers I have dispatched the story of what I have done. First the people will read Lord Sydney's deposition as to his father's treason, and the papers secured in proof. Then they will read in facsimile those Russian papers, showing in Ulster's writing how he betrayed his country. Next comes the story of my vengeance against a disloyal Government, my gift to a betrayed nation, and finally there is the Queen's own passionate appeal to her people."