There had been no need for the King to ask of what impending storm the old Duke spoke. From the first, in all his talk, the increasing menace of the world-wide revolutionary conspiracy had been the veteran statesman's most constant theme. "In your grandfather's time revolution in England was impossible, sir. In your father's time it was possible, but unthinkable. If your brother had lived, it might have remained unthinkable for years, perhaps for the whole of his reign." "Like your father, your brother had the secret of arousing personal loyalty. The Prince smiled, and men and women loved him. For years he had been preparing himself, and consolidating his hold on the people, making ready for the struggle which he saw he must come." "It is not for me to disguise from you, sir, that your brother's death has given a new impetus to the revolutionary movement in this country. A younger son, a Prince who never expected, who was never expected, to reign--against you, sir, the international revolutionary forces feel that they have their first real chance in England. The Internationalists, and the Communists, on the Continent, and the extremists amongst our own Labour leaders, are likely to effect a working agreement. It is necessary that we should remember, that it has been by such agreements, that Europe has been swept almost clear of Kings, from end to end." "We must be prepared. We are prepared. But it is of vital importance that you, sir, should understand the position. Make no mistake, sir. They would haul down your Royal Standard, from the flagstaff here, sir, and run up their pitiable rag of a Red Flag, in its place." A new understanding of the difficulties that his father had faced, of the heavy burden that he had borne, for so many years, without complaint, had come to the King, in recent weeks. More poignant still was the new understanding of, and the new sympathy with, his dead brother, the Prince, that the last few weeks had brought him. His father had always been remote. Between him, and his brother, the Prince, there had been real friendship, and familiar, easy intercourse, in spite of the Prince's splendid future, in spite of his own frequent absences at sea. But he had not known. He had not understood. With a sailor's contemptuous impatience in such matters, he had always turned an almost deaf ear to the Prince's talk of politics and parties. The Prince's splendid future! And he stood now, in the Prince's place. It was the Prince who had urged him to trust, and to listen to, the old Duke. Once again, the King stood by the bed, in his brother's room, late in the afternoon of the day, when the disease, which had stricken the Prince so inexplicably, within a few weeks of their father's death, had done its worst, and it was known that he, too, must die, die, after all, uncrowned. Deathly white the Prince lay there, propped up in bed, with his eyes closed.