The passion of those words touches and grips as no arguments could; and they are silent. MORE. Well! What's the difference out there? I'm not so inhuman as not to want to see this disaster in the Pass wiped out. But once that's done, in spite of my affection for you; my ambitions, and they're not few; [Very low] in spite of my own wife's feeling, I must be free to raise my voice against this war. BANNING. [Speaking slowly, consulting the others, as it were, with his eyes] Mr. More, there's no man I respect more than yourself. I can't tell what they'll say down there when we go back; but I, for one, don't feel it in me to take a hand in pressing you farther against your faith. SHELDER. We don't deny that--that you have a case of sorts. WACE. No--surely. SHELDER. A--man should be free, I suppose, to hold his own opinions. MORE. Thank you, Shelder. BANNING. Well! well! We must take you as you are; but it's a rare pity; there'll be a lot of trouble---- His eyes light on Honk who is leaning forward with hand raised to his ear, listening. Very faint, from far in the distance, there is heard a skirling sound. All become conscious of it, all listen. HOME. [Suddenly] Bagpipes! The figure of OLIVE flies past the window, out on the terrace. KATHERINE turns, as if to follow her. SHELDER. Highlanders! [He rises. KATHERINE goes quickly out on to the terrace. One by one they all follow to the window. One by one go out on to the terrace, till MORE is left alone. He turns to the bay window. The music is swelling, coming nearer. MORE leaves the window--his face distorted by the strafe of his emotions. He paces the room, taking, in some sort, the rhythm of the march.] [Slowly the music dies away in the distance to a drum-tap and the tramp of a company. MORE stops at the table, covering his eyes with his hands.] [The DEPUTATION troop back across the terrace, and come in at the French windows. Their faces and manners have quite changed. KATHERINE follows them as far as the window.] HOME. [In a strange, almost threatening voice] It won't do, Mr. More. Give us your word, to hold your peace! SHELDER. Come! More. WACE. Yes, indeed--indeed! BANNING. We must have it. MORE. [Without lifting his head] I--I---- The drum-tap of a regiment marching is heard. BANNING. Can you hear that go by, man--when your country's just been struck? Now comes the scale and mutter of a following crowd. MORE. I give you---- Then, sharp and clear above all other sounds, the words: "Give the beggars hell, boys!" "Wipe your feet on their dirty country!" "Don't leave 'em a gory acre!" And a burst of hoarse cheering. MORE. [Flinging up his head] That's reality! By Heaven! No! KATHERINE. Oh! SHELDER. In that case, we'll go. BANNING. You mean it? You lose us, then! [MORE bows.]