Here the Commander-in-Chief cleared his throat, and in a strained voice interfered: “That is, my Lord King, if we ourselves have not need of every soldier of the line within the next week”. The Regent deposited his ash with peering eyes, puzzled. “What does your Lordship mean?” “Your Lordship's Majesty, I was summoned from dinner just now to talk with Major-General Sir Maurice Coppleston, who reports movements of armed men, just come to his knowledge, and now going forward on a considerable scale, all northward. He gathers that these can only consist of Territorials and Yeomanry Cavalry, of whom not less than twelve battalions of rifles and three batteries of artillery, officers and men, are now on the way to, or massed upon, York. How widely the movement may actually extend--God knows”. Silence now: Sir Robert Wortley suddenly whitening to the lips. Then Hogarth, in a very low voice, said: “They do not know me”. “If I may crave leave to retire at once--” from the Commander-in-Chief; and Hogarth gave consent. Queer things, omens, doubtings, weird clouds, gathered about Hogarth that night. When at eleven he gave audience to Admiral Quilter-Beckett, arrived from the _Boodah_ Quilter-Beckett said: “Strange the fine weather here: at sea it is quite rough, the _Boodah_ well under foam, and that old _Campania_ pitches so--” “You have come, then, in the _Campania_?”--from Hogarth. “Yes, my Lord King”. “And what about the yacht?” “Oh, the yacht: in her I have sent the two hundred men to the _Mahomet_”. “_Which_ two hundred men, Admiral?” Quilter-Beckett stared. “Your Lordship's Majesty has forgotten: I had instructions that you desired some interchanges among the garrisons, and had ordered the sending of two hundred of my men to the _Mahomet_, I to receive in return two hundred from her”. “And you have sent your two hundred?” “Yes, my Lord King”. “Have you received the two hundred from the _Mahomet?_” “They had not arrived when I left the _Boodah_”. “So that you left only one hundred men in the _Boodah_, with instructions to receive two hundred others?” “That is so, my Lord King”. There was silence. “But suppose I tell you that I have given no such instructions: will your heart--_leap?_” Hogarth clapped a sudden hand of horror upon Quilter-Beckett's shoulder. “My God--!” Quilter-Beckett started like a gun's recoil. “Be calm, Admiral: it may be only some mistake....From whence had you this order?” “From--from the _Mahomet_, in the usual course--” “Good night, Admiral; I would be alone”. At that very hour a world-tragedy was being enacted over the dark and turbulent ocean, and the immensest of Empires was sinking into the sea. Darkly, quietly, with no mighty and multitudinous tumult of man.