An undercurrent of stern approval from those seated round the table drove the plain words home. “All that you say, sir, I recognized at the time,” said Endor. “So much I freely own. But as I now wish to make clear, owing to a cause which in a measure was physical I was then suffering from an eclipse of the moral judgment.” Lien Weng shook his head gently. There was a brief pause. And then with the peculiar amenity of a deep mind at grips with destiny itself, he went on as if nothing had occurred, to expound the position the Society had now reached in the matter of Saul Hartz and the Universal Press. XLIII Endor, from the first, had felt that he would not be able to get free. And now, his protest made, his own position fully disclosed, he saw that for the time being, at any rate, there was nothing more that he could do. In the moments that immediately followed, a mind cruelly torn became a house divided against itself. One part of his brain, wherein lurked the eternal verities, assured him that this illicit assembly, this Council of Seven, was no place for John Endor. And yet in another part of his ethos, an influence, alien, but of extreme potency, was also at work. The cold logic of the matter was that on the issue that had been raised Lien Weng and his associates were perfectly right. In a matter of this kind, no man could be permitted to forswear allegiance. That was only just and fair. And it was reasonable that one who did so must pay a full penalty. The question of questions now for John Endor, or at least for the political part of a mind-at-war, was how, when, in what fashion must the penalty be paid? If, following at once upon his protest he withdrew from the deliberations of the Council, he put himself irrevocably out of court. On the other hand, if he stayed where he was and bore a part in its transactions, he would be committed by implication to any act upon which it might decide. The problem for a man faced with such a far-reaching issue was almost insoluble, but, after a moment of intense emotion, some deep instinct of policy called upon him to remain. The hour which followed in the beautiful but smoke-laden Busshe Court dining room had an entrancing interest for John Endor. Nothing could have been more severely business-like than the methods of the Council of Seven. In a few words, chosen with much skill, Lien Weng made everything quite clear. Saul Hartz had ignored the recommendations of the Society of the Friends of Peace and the period of grace had now expired. And, in accordance with the rules, by which all present were under a solemn pact to abide, this man, a direct menace to the peace of the world, must die.