"So this is the outcome of it all!" she exclaimed, with uplifted hands. "A fortnight in Paris! and only a fortnight! More like to be a matter of years. Nap has them there in safe keeping; and depend on't, he'll not let them go in no sort of haste. I protest, when Colonel Baron told me of his purpose, I had an inkling in my mind of what was to happen. Did I not warn him, Polly? Did I not tell him he should be content to stay at home? For you were there, and you heard. 'Tis now as I foretold. My dear Mrs. Fairbank, I do most sincerely condole with you all." Mrs. Fairbank parted her lips, and had time to do no more. The Admiral looked at Mr. Bryce, and Mr. Bryce looked at the Admiral. "'Tis done now, and it cannot be undone, but 'tis a lesson for the future. Had the Colonel but shown his accustomed sense, he would have taken warning by my words, and he might now be sound and safe in old England. But everybody has expected nothing less than war. Pray, my dear madam, what else could have resulted? If England will not give up Malta at the bidding of Nap, England has to fight. And England will never give up Malta." "The Treaty of Amiens----" Mrs. Fairbank tried to say. "O excuse me, I beseech--don't talk to me of the Treaty of Amiens! We agreed, doubtless, under certain conditions, to give over Malta to the Knights of St. John. And those conditions have been broke. Broke, my dear ma'am. Broke, my dear sir!" She turned eagerly from one to another, talking as fast as the words would leave her lips. "Give up Malta, quotha! Ay, we did arrange to give it up, but not to Nap! Why, the last new Grand-Master of the Knights of St. John has been appointed by the Pope, and the Pope himself, poor old gentleman, is Boney's humble slave. Give up Malta, under such circumstances! I protest, England is not yet sunk so low." Mrs. Fairbank and the Admiral both tried to intimate that they entirely agreed with Mrs. Bryce. They failed to make her understand; and the lively lady went on-- "I have it all from my brother, who has it at first hand from his Grace, the Duke of Hamilton. One thing is certain--our friends over the Channel will not be back again this great while. I give them at the least two years. Nay, why not four or five?" "Nay, why not forty or fifty?" muttered Jack. "Nay, Molly!" as he felt her start. "Who knows? The war may last but six months. And Roy is free." But he could not speak of Ivor as free, and he saw Polly's colour deepen, her eyes filling. This could not be allowed to go on. A diversion had become necessary; and Jack's voice was heard to say something in slow insistent tones, making itself audible through Mrs. Bryce's continued outpour. "A very great friend of his Grace, the Duke of Hamilton," reached her ears; and Mrs. Bryce, being much of a tuft-hunter, stopped short. "You were saying, Jack--What was that which you were pleased to remark?"