CHAPTER VI.

BAFFLED REVENGE.

Hilda's most confidential secretary was her sister, Maud Fitzherbert.

She was some two or three years younger, a lovely, graceful girl, and

possessed of scarcely less intellectual power than Hilda. She had

perhaps less inclination for public life; but both the girls were

learned in physical laws, in mathematics, in living languages, in

everything, in short, to which they devoted their extraordinary mental

powers. They adored each other, and Maud looked up to Hilda as to a

divinity.

The latter was writing in her room. Maud came to her. "Lord Montreal is

most anxious to see you for a few minutes."

Lord Montreal was a fine-looking, handsome young man of twenty-five

years of age. He was a brave soldier, a genial companion, and a general

favourite. He was the second son of the Duke of Ontario. He had known

the Fitzherberts since they were children, and the families were

intimate. Hilda greeted him cordially.

"I will not detain you," he said; "but I have had important information

confided to me in strict secrecy. I cannot tell you who was my

informant, and you must not use my name. Will you accept the

conditions?"

"I must, I suppose, if you insist on them."

"I must insist on them. My information much concerns my commanding

officer, Lord Reginald Paramatta, with whom I am only on formal terms;

and therefore my name must not appear. As to my informant, his condition

was absolute secrecy as to his name. The gist of what he told me was

that Lord Reginald is organising a secret society, with objects

certainly not loyal to the Emperor, if indeed they are not treasonable.

I gathered that there is something more contemplated than theoretical

utterances, and that action of a most disastrous character may follow if

steps to arrest it be not at once taken. The information was imparted to

me in order that I might bring it to you. I feel that I have been placed

in a false position by being made the recipient without proof of

statements so damaging to my superior officer; and though I fear that I

may be placing a trouble upon you, I have on reflection not thought

myself warranted in withholding the statement, as it was made to me with

the object of its reaching you. Never again will I give assurances about

statements the nature of which I do not know."

Miss Fitzherbert seemed to be destined to annoyance through Lord

Reginald. She was now called to set the detective power in force against

a man who a few days since so eagerly sought her hand.

"I certainly wish," she said, "that you will not give promises which

will land you into bringing me information of this kind."

"You surely," said Montreal, "do not care for Lord Reginald?"

"I may not and do not care for him, but it is not agreeable to be asked

to search out criminal designs on the part of a person with whom one is

acquainted."

"Forgive me, Hilda," said Montreal. "It was thoughtless of me not to

think that I might give you pain. But, you see, I regard you as

indifferent to everything but public affairs. Now Maud is different;"

and he looked at the fair girl who still remained in the room, with eyes

in which warm affection was plainly visible.

"Maud has a heart, of course; but I have not," said Hilda, with more

irritation than she was accustomed to display.

The poor girl had suffered much annoyance during the last few days, and

the climax was attained that afternoon when she read in a paper

purposely sent to her a strangely inverted account of her relations with

Lord Reginald. According to this journal, Mrs. Hardinge had treated Lord

Reginald cruelly because she could not induce him to respond to the

affection which her protegée Hilda Fitzherbert felt for the great

soldier. In spite of, or perhaps on account of, her vast mental power,

Hilda was possessed of a singularly sensitive character. She gave

herself up to public affairs in the full conviction that women could do

so without sacrificing in the smallest degree their self-respect. She

had a high conception of the purity and holiness of woman's individual

existence, and it seemed to her a sacrilege to make the public life of a

woman the excuse for dragging before the eyes of the world anything that

affected her private feelings. She was intensely annoyed at this

paragraph. In the end, we may say in anticipation. Lord Reginald did not

come out of it with advantage. The next issue of the paper contained the

following passage: "In reference to what appeared in our columns last

week about Miss Fitzherbert, we must apologise to that lady. We are

informed by Mrs. Hardinge that the facts were absolutely inverted. It is

not Lord Reginald who is unwilling. It is Lord Reginald who has received

a _decidedly_ negative reply."

Hilda was not one to readily inflict her own annoyances on others. She

recovered herself in a moment as she saw the pained look on Maud's face.

"Forgive me, Montreal; forgive me, Maud," she said. "I have much to

disturb me. I did not mean to be unkind. Of course, Montreal, I should

have liked your aid in this matter; but as you cannot give it, I must

see what I can do without it. Good-bye, Montreal. Maud dear, send at

once to Colonel Laurient, and ask him if he will do me the kindness to

come to see me at once."

Colonel Laurient was a very remarkable man. He was on his mother's side

of an ancient Jewish family, possessing innumerable branches all over

the world. At various times members of the family had distinguished

themselves both in public life and in scientific, commercial, and

financial pursuits. Colonel Laurient was the second son of one of the

principal partners in the De Childrosse group, the largest and most

wealthy financial house in the world. When his education was completed,

he decided not to enter into the business, as his father gave him the

option of doing. He had inherited an enormous fortune from his aunt, the

most celebrated scientific chemist and inventor of her day. She had left

him all the law permitted her to leave to one relation. He entered the

army, and also obtained a seat in Parliament. As a soldier he gained a

reputation for extreme skill and discretion in the guerilla warfare that

sometimes was forced on the authorities in the British Asiatic

possessions. On one occasion by diplomatic action he changed a powerful

foe on the frontier of the Indian possessions to a devoted friend, his

knowledge of languages and Asiatic lore standing him in good stead. This

action brought him to the notice of the Emperor, who soon attached him

to his personal service, and, it was said, put more faith in his

opinions than in those of any person living. He was rather the personal

friend than the servant of the Emperor.

Some twenty years before the date of our story it was found necessary to

give to the then Sovereign a private service of able and devoted men.

It was the habit of the Emperor of United Britain to travel about the

whole of his vast dominions. The means of travelling were greatly

enlarged, and what would at one time have been considered a long and

fatiguing expedition ceased to possess any difficulty or inconvenience.

A journey from London to Melbourne was looked upon with as much

indifference as one from London to the Continent used to be. It became

apparent that either the freedom of the Emperor to roam about at

pleasure must be much curtailed, or that he must be able to travel

without encroaching on the ordinary public duty of his constitutional

advisers. Thus a species of personal bodyguard grew up, with the members

of which, according as his temperament dictated, the Sovereign became on

more or less intimate personal terms. The officers holding this coveted

position had no official status. If there was any payment, the Emperor

made it. There was no absolute knowledge of the existence of the force,

if such it could be called, or of who composed it. That the Sovereign

had intimate followers was of course known, and it was occasionally

surmised that they held recognised and defined positions. But it was

merely surmise, after all; and not half a dozen people outside of

Cabinet rank could have positively named the friends of the Emperor who

were members of the bodyguard.

Colonel Laurient retired from Parliament, where he had rather

distinguished himself in the treatment of questions requiring large

geographical and historical knowledge; and it was commonly supposed, he

wished to give more attention to his military duties. In reality he

became chief of the Emperor's bodyguard, and, it might be said, was the

eyes and ears of the Sovereign. With consummate ability he organised a

secret intelligence department, and from one end of the dominions to the

other he became aware of everything that was passing. Not infrequently

the Emperor amazed Cabinet Ministers with the extent of his knowledge of

immediate events. Colonel Laurient never admitted that he held any

official position, and literally he did not hold any such position. He

received no pay, and his duties were not defined. He loved the Emperor

personally for himself, and the Emperor returned the feeling. Really the

most correct designation to give to his position was to term him the

Emperor's most devoted friend and to consider that in virtue thereof the

members of the bodyguard regarded him as their head, because he stood to

them in the place of the Emperor himself.

Hilda Fitzherbert knew something, and conjectured more, as to his

position. She was frequently brought into communication with him, and

after she heard Lord Montreal's story she instantly determined to

consult him. He came quickly on her invitation. He was always pleased to

meet her.

Colonel Laurient was a tall, slender man, apparently of about

thirty-five years of age. His complexion was very dark; and his silky,

curly hair was almost of raven blackness. His features were small and

regular, and of that sad but intellectual type common to some of the

pure-bred Asiatic races. You would deem him a man who knew how to

"suffer and be strong;" you would equally deem him one whom no

difficulty could frighten, no obstacle baffle. You would expect to see

his face light up to enjoyment not because of the prospect of ordinary

pleasure, but because of affairs of exceeding gravity which called for

treatment by a strong hand and subtle brain. His manner was pleasing and

deferential; and he had a voice of rare harmony, over which he possessed

complete control. Cordial greetings passed between him and Miss

Fitzherbert. There was no affectation of apology being necessary for

sending for him or of pleasure on his part at the summons. Briefly she

told him of Lord Montreal's communication. He listened attentively, then

carelessly remarked, "Lord Reginald's conduct has been very peculiar

lately."

Do what she would, the girl could not help giving a slight start at this

remark, made as it was with intention. Colonel Laurient at once

perceived that there was more to be told than he already was aware of.

He knew a great deal that had passed with Lord Reginald, and guessed

more; and gradually, with an apparently careless manner, he managed to

elicit so much from Hilda that she thought it wiser to tell him

precisely all that had occurred, especially the account of her last

interview with Lord Reginald and his subsequent letter resigning his

appointment.

"Confidences with me," he said, "are entirely safe. Now I understand his

motives, you and I start on fair terms, which we could not do whilst you

knew more than I did."

Then they discussed what had better be done. "It may be," Colonel

Laurient said, "that there is nothing in it. There is a possibility that

it is a pure invention, and it is even possible that Lord Reginald may

have himself caused the invention to reach you for the purpose of giving

you annoyance. Montreal's informant may have been instigated by Lord

Reginald. Then there is the possibility--we may say probability--that

the purposes of the society do not comprise a larger amount of

disaffection or dissatisfaction than the law permits. And, lastly,

there is let us say the barest possibility that Lord Reginald, enraged

to madness, may have determined on some really treasonable action. You

know in old days it was said, 'Hell has no fury like a woman scorned;'

but in our time we would not give the precedence for wounded vanity to

woman; man is not wanting in the same susceptibility, and Lord Reginald

has passed through a whole series of humiliating experiences. I knew

some of them before I saw you this afternoon. You have filled up the

list with a bitter from which he doubtless suffers more than from all

the rest."

Miss Fitzherbert appeared to care little for this strain of conjecture.

"What is the use of it?" she said. "However infinitesimal the risk of

treasonable designs, the Emperor must not be allowed to run it."

"You are right," said Colonel Laurient. "I do not, as you know, appear

in these matters; but I have means of obtaining information of secret

things. Within twenty-four hours I will see you again and let you know

what it all means. We can then decide the course to take."

Some explanation is necessary to enable Colonel Laurient's remarks about

the limits of disaffection to be understood. Freedom of thought and

expression was amongst the cardinal liberties of the subject most

prized. In order to recognise its value, it was long since determined

that a line should be drawn beyond which the liberty should not extend.

It was argued that nothing could be more cruel than to play with

disaffection of a dangerous nature. Not only was it the means of

increasing the disaffection, but of gradually drawing eminent people

into compromising positions. The line then was drawn at this

point:--upon any subject that did not affect the fundamental principles

of the Constitution change might be permissible, but any advocacy or

even suggestion of destroying those fundamental principles was regarded

as treasonable. The Constitution was so framed as to indicate within

itself the principles which were susceptible of modification or change,

such, for example, as the conditions of the franchise and the modes of

conducting elections. But there were three fundamental points concerning

which no change was allowable, and these were--first, that the Empire

should continue an empire; secondly, that the sovereignty should remain

in the present reigning family; and thirdly, that the union of the

different parts of the dominion was irrevocable and indissoluble. It

will be remembered that a great aversion had been expressed by the

upholders of the Constitution to the proposal to change the law of

succession within the imperial family. It could not be said to touch on

the second fundamental principle, as it did not involve a change of

dynasty; yet many thought it too nearly approached one of the sacred,

unchangeable principles.

As regards the fundamental principles, no discussion was permissible. To

question even the wisdom of continuing the Empire, of preserving the

succession in the imperial family, or of permitting a separation of any

of the dominions was held to be rank treason; and no mercy was shown to

an offender. Outside of these points changes could be made, and

organisations to promote changes were legitimate, however freely they

indulged in plain speech. The conduct of the Emperor himself was

legitimately a subject of comment, especially on any point in which he

appeared to fail in respect to the Constitution he had sworn to uphold.

It need scarcely be said that the Constitution was no longer an

ill-defined and unwritten one. Such a Constitution worked well enough as

long as the different parts of the Empire were united only during

pleasure. When the union became irrevocable, it was a natural necessity

that the conditions of union should be defined.

It may be convenient here to state some of the broad features of the

governing and social system. It has already been said that, without

approaching to communism, it had long since been decided that every

human being was entitled to a share in the good things of the world, and

that destitution was abhorrent. It was also recognised that the

happiest condition of humanity was a reasonable amount of work and

labour. For that very reason, it was decided not to make the labour

distasteful by imposing it as a necessity. The love of work, not its

necessity, was the feeling it was desirable to implant. Manual work

carried with it no degradation, and there was little work to be done

which did not require intelligence. Mere brute force was superseded by

the remarkable contrivances for affording power and saving labour which

were brought even to the humblest homes. The waves, tides, and winds

stored up power which was convertible into electricity or compressed

air; and either of these aids to labour-saving could be carried from

house to house as easily as water. If men and women wished to be idle

and State pensioners, it was open to them to follow their inclination;

but they had to wear uniforms, and they were regarded as inferior by the

healthy body politic. The aged, infirm, and helpless might enjoy State

aid without being subjected to such a humiliation or to any disability.

The starting-point was that, if a person was not sufficiently criminal

to be the inmate of a prison, he should not be relegated to a brutal

existence. It was at first argued that such a system would encourage

inaction and idleness; the State would be deluged with pensioners. But

subtler counsels prevailed. Far-seeing men and women argued that the

condition of the world was becoming one of contracted human labour; and

if the viciously inclined refused to work, there would be more left to

those who had the ambition to be industrious. "But," was the rejoinder,

"you are stifling ambition by making the lowest round of the ladder so

comfortable and luxurious." To this was replied, "Your argument is

superficial. Survey mankind; and you will see that, however lowly its

lowest position, there is a ceaseless, persistent effort to rise on the

part of nearly every well-disposed person, from the lowliest to the most

exalted." Ambition, it was urged, was natural to man, but it was least

active amongst the poverty-crushed classes. Mankind as a whole might be

described as myriads of units striving to ascend a mountain. The number

of those contented to rest on the plateaus to which they had climbed was

infinitesimal compared with the whole. It would be as difficult to

select them as it would be to pick out a lazy bee from a whole hive.

Whether you started at the lowest class, with individuals always on the

point of starvation, with families herded together with less decency

than beasts of the fields, and with thousands of human beings who from

cradle to grave knew not what happiness meant, or made the start from a

higher elevation, upon which destitution was impossible, there would

still continue the climbing of myriads to greater heights and the

resting on plateaus of infinitesimally few; indeed, as poverty tended to

crush ambition, there would be a larger range of aspiration accompanying

an improvement in the condition of the lowliest class. And so it proved.

The system of government and taxation followed the theory of the range

above destitution. Taxes were exacted in proportion to the ability to

pay them. The payments for the many services the Post Office rendered

were not regarded as taxation. The customs duties were looked upon as

payments made in proportion to the desires of the people to use dutiable

goods. If high customs duties meant high prices, they also meant high

wages.

The Empire, following the practice of other countries, was utterly

averse to giving employment to the peoples of foreign nations. Every

separate local dominion within the Empire was at liberty to impose by

its legislature what duties it pleased as between itself and other parts

of the Empire, but it was imperatively required to collect three times

the same duties on commodities from foreign countries. This was of

course meant to be prohibitive of foreign importations, and was

practicable because the countries within the Empire could supply every

commodity in the world. It was argued that to encourage foreign

importations merely meant to pit cheap labour against the price for

labour within the Empire. Besides the customs duties, the revenue was

almost entirely made up of income tax and succession duties. Stamp

duties, as obstacles to business, were considered an evidence of the

ignorance of the past. The first five hundred pounds a year of income

was free; but beyond that amount the State appropriated one clear fourth

of all incomes. Similarly one quarter of the value of all successions,

real or personal, in excess of ten thousand pounds, was payable to the

State; and disposition by gifts before death came within the succession

values. A man or woman was compelled to leave half his or her property,

after payment of succession duty, in defined proportion to the children

and wife or husband, as the case might be, or failing these to near

relations; the other half he or she might dispose of at pleasure. It was

argued that to a certain extent the amasser of wealth had only a life

interest in it, and that it was not for the happiness of the successors

of deceased people to come into such wealth that the ambition to work

and labour would be wanting. The system did not discourage the amassment

of wealth; on the contrary, larger fortunes were made than in former

times. Higher prices gave to fortunes of course a comparatively less

purchasing power; but taking the higher prices into consideration, the

accumulation of wealth became a more honourable ambition and a

pleasanter task when it ceased to be purchased at the expense of the

comfort of the working classes.

The customs duties belonged to the separate Governments that collected

them, and the quarter-income tax and succession duties were equally

divided between the Imperial and the Dominion Governments. Thus the

friction between them was minimised. The Imperial Government and the

Dominion Governments both enjoyed during most years far more revenue

than they required, and so large a reserve fund was accumulated that no

inconvenience was felt in years of depression. Part of the surplus

revenues arising from the reserve fund was employed in large educational

and benevolent works and undertakings. The result of the system was that

pecuniary suffering in all directions was at an end; but the ambition to

acquire wealth, with its concomitant powers, was in no degree abated.

Of course there was not universal content--such a condition would be

impossible--but the controversies were, as a rule, less bitter than the

former ones which prevailed between different classes. The man-and-woman

struggle was one of the large points of constant difference, and again

there was much difference of opinion as to whether the quarter-income

and succession duties might be reduced to a fifth. It was argued, on the

one hand, that the reserve funds were becoming too large, and that the

present generation was working too much for its successors. On the other

hand, it was urged that the present generation in working for its

successors was merely perpetuating the gift which it had inherited, and

that by preserving the reserve funds great strength was given to contend

against any reverses that the future might have in store. Another point

of controversy was the strength of the naval and military forces. A

comparatively small school of public men argued that the cost and

strength might be materially reduced without risk or danger, but the

general feeling was not with them.

This has been a long digression, but it was necessary to the

comprehension of our story. It will easily be understood from what has

been said that, supposing the alleged action of Lord Reginald was

dictated by revenge, it was difficult to see, unless he resorted to

treasonable efforts, what satisfaction he could derive from any

agitation.

Colonel Laurient the next afternoon fulfilled his promise of waiting on

Hilda. She had suffered great anxiety during the interval--the anxiety

natural to ill-defined fears and doubts. He looked careworn, and his

manner was more serious than on the previous day. "I have found out all

about it," he said; "and I am sorry there is more cause for anxiety than

we thought yesterday. It is undoubtedly true that Lord Reginald is

organising some combination; and although the proof is wanting, there is

much reason to fear that his objects are not of a legitimate nature. It

is impossible to believe, he would take the trouble which he is

assuming, to deal only with questions to which he has never shown an

inclination. I am persuaded that behind the cloak of his ostensible

objects lies ambition or revenge, or perhaps both, pointing to extreme

and highly dangerous action."

"You are probably right," said Miss Fitzherbert, who knew from the

manner of the Emperor's favourite that he was much disturbed by what he

had heard. "But even so, what obstacle lies in the way of putting an end

to the projected action, whatever its nature?"

"There is a great obstacle," promptly replied the Colonel; "and that is

the doubt as to what the nature of the project is. Lord Reginald is a

clever man; and notwithstanding his late failure, he has plenty of

friends and admirers, especially among his own sex, and amongst

soldiers, both volunteers and regulars. I have ascertained enough to

show me that the leaders intend to keep within ostensibly legitimate

limits until the time comes to unfold their full design to their

followers, and that then they will trust to the comradeship of the

latter and to their fears of being already compromised."

Hilda was quick of apprehension. "I see they will organise to complain

perhaps of the nature of the taxation, and only expose their treasonable

objects at a later time."

Colonel Laurient gazed on her with admiration. "How readily you

comprehend!" he said. "I believe you alone can grapple with the

situation."

The girl flushed, and then grew pale. She did not know what physical

fear meant. Probably, if her feelings were analysed, it would have been

found that the ruling sensation she experienced was an almost delirious

pleasure at the idea that she could do a signal service to the Emperor.

She replied, however, with singular self-repression. "I am not quick

enough," she said, with a slight smile, "to understand how I can be of

any use."

"The organisation has been proceeding some time, although I fancy Lord

Reginald has only lately joined and accepted the leadership. It numbers

thousands who believe themselves banded together only to take strong

measures to reduce taxation, on the ground that the reserve funds have

become amply large enough to permit such reduction. But the leaders have

other views; and I have ascertained that they propose to hold a meeting

three days hence, at which it is possible--nay, I think, probable--there

will be an unreserved disclosure."

"Why not," said Miss Fitzherbert, "arrest them in the midst of their

machinations?"

"There lies the difficulty," responded the Colonel. "It entirely depends

on the nature of the disclosures whether the Government authorities are

entitled to take any action. If the disclosures fall short of being

treasonable, it would be held that there was interference of a most

unpardonable character with freedom of speech and thought; and the last

of it would never be heard. Dear Miss Fitzherbert," he said caressingly,

"we want some one at the meeting with a judgment so evenly balanced and

accurate that she will be able on the instant to decide if the

treasonable intentions are sufficiently expressed or if it would be

safer not to interfere. I know no one so quick and at the same time so

logical in her judgment as you. In vain have I thought of any one else

whom it would be nearly so safe to employ."

"But how could it be managed?" inquired Hilda. "Every one knows my

appearance. My presence would be immediately detected."

"Pray listen to me," said the Colonel, delighted at having met with no

strenuous opposition. He had feared, he would have great difficulty in

persuading Miss Fitzherbert to take the part he intended for her; and,

to his surprise, she seemed inclined to meet him half-way. Then he

explained that the meeting was to be held in the Parliamentary Hall, a

celebrated place of meeting. It had been constructed with the express

purpose of making it impossible that any one not inside the Hall could

hear what was taking place. The edifice was an enormous one of stone.

Inside this building, about fifteen feet from the walls all round, and

twenty feet from the roof, was a second erection, composed entirely of

glass. So that as long as the external building was better lighted than

the interior one the presence of a human being could be detected outside

the walls or on the roof of the hall of meeting. The chamber was

artificially cooled, as indeed were most of the houses in the cities of

Australia, excepting during the winter months.

"This is the place of all others," said Miss Fitzherbert, "where it

would be difficult for an unauthorised person to be present."

"Not so," replied Colonel Laurient. "The inside hall is to be in

darkness, and the exterior dimly lighted. Only the vague outlines of

each person's form will be revealed; and every one is to come cloaked,

and with a large overshadowing hat. From what I can gather, the

revelation is to be gradual and only to be completed if it should seem

to be approved during its progress. I expect Lord Reginald will be the

last to give in his adhesion, so that it might be said he was deceived

as to the purpose of the meeting if he should see fit to withdraw from

the declaration of its real object. Mind, you are to be sole judge as to

whether the meeting transgresses the line which divides the legitimate

from the treasonable."

"Why not act yourself?" said Hilda.

"If you think for a moment," he replied, "you will understand my

influence is maintained only so long as it is hidden. If I appeared to

act, it would cease altogether. Unfortunately I must often let others do

what I would gladly do myself. Believe me, it is painful to me to put

tasks on you of any kind, much less a task of so grave a nature. By

heavens!" he exclaimed, carried away for a moment, "there is a reason

known to me only why I might well dread for myself the great service you

will do the Emperor."

He was recalled to himself by the amazed look of the girl. "Forgive me,"

he ejaculated. "I did not mean anything. But there is no danger to you;

of that be assured."

"Colonel Laurient," said Hilda gravely, "you ought to know me well

enough not to suppose I am guided by fear."

"I do know it," he answered, "otherwise I should not have asked you to

undertake the great task I have set before you. No woman whose mind was

disturbed by alarm could do justice to it."

He told her that in some way, he did not mention how, he had control

over the manager of the building, who had let it under a false

impression, and asked her if she was aware of the comparatively late

discovery of how to produce artificial magnetism.

"I ought to be," she replied, with a smile, "for I am credited with

having been the first to discover the principle of the remote branch of

muscular magnetising electricity on which it depends."

"I had forgotten," he said, with an answering smile. "One may be

forgiven for forgetting for a moment the wide nature of your

investigations and discoveries."

Then he explained to her that the principle could be put into practice

with perfect certainty and safety, and that he would take care

everything was properly arranged. He would see her again and tell her

the pass-words, the part of the Hall she was to occupy, and the mode she

was to adopt to summon assistance.

The evening of the meeting came, and for half an hour there were

numerous arrivals at the many doors of the huge building. Each person

had separately to interchange the pass-words at both the outer and inner

doors. At length about twelve hundred people were assembled. The lights

outside the glass hall were comparatively feeble. The powerful electric

lamps were not turned on. The inner hall was unlighted, and received

only a dull reflection from the outer lights. Some surprise was

expressed by the usual frequenters of the Hall at the appearance inside

the glass wall of a wooden dais, sufficiently large to hold three or

four people, and with shallow steps on one side leading up to it.

Inquiry was made as to its object. The doorkeeper, suitably instructed,

replied carelessly it was thought, they might require a stage from which

the speakers could address the audience. The present meeting certainly

did not want it. The speakers had no desire to individually bring

themselves into notice. Hilda, muffled up as were the rest, quietly took

a seat close to the steps of the dais. No president was appointed; no

one appeared to have any control; yet as the meeting proceeded it was

evident that its tactics had been carefully thought out, and that most,

if not all, of the speakers were fulfilling the parts allotted to them.

First a tall, elderly man rose, and with considerable force and fluency

enlarged upon the evils of the present large taxation. He went into

figures, and his speech ought to have been effective, only no one seemed

to take any interest in it. Then there loomed on the meeting the person

apparently of a middle-aged woman. The cloaks and hats carefully

mystified the identities of the sexes and individual peculiarities. This

speaker went a little further. She explained that maintaining the Empire

as a whole entailed the sacrifice of regulating the taxation so as to

suit the least wealthy portions. She carefully guarded herself from

being more than explanatory. The comparative poverty of England and the

exactions of the self-indulgent Londoners, she said, necessitated a

scale of taxation that hardy and rich Australia, New Zealand, and Canada

did not require. Then a historically disposed young woman rose and dwelt

upon the time when England thought a great deal more of herself than of

the Colonies and to curry favour with foreign countries placed them on

the same footing as her own dominions. Little by little various speakers

progressed, testing at every step the feelings of the audience, until at

last one went so far as to ask the question whether the time would ever

come when Australia would be found to be quite large and powerful enough

to constitute an empire of itself. "Mind," said he, "I do not say the

time will come." Then an apparently excited Australian arose. She would

not, she said, say a word in favour of such an empire; but she, an

Australian bred and born, and with a long line of Australian ancestors,

was not going to listen to any doubts being thrown on Australia or

Australians. The country and the people, she declared, amidst murmuring

signs of assent, were fit for any destiny to which they might be called.

Then a logical speaker rose and asked why were they forbidden to discuss

the question as to whether it was desirable to retain the present limits

of the Empire or to divide it. He would not state what his opinion was,

but he would say this: that he could not properly estimate the arguments

in favour of preserving the integrity of the Empire unless he was at

liberty to hear the arguments and answer them of those who held an

opposite opinion. When this speaker sat down, there was a momentary

pause. It seemed as if there was a short consultation between those who

were guiding the progress of the meeting. Whether or not this was the

case, some determination appeared to be arrived at; and a short, portly

man arose and said he did not care for anybody or anything. He would

answer the question to which they had at length attained by saying that

in his opinion the present empire was too large, that Australia ought to

be formed into a separate empire, and that she would be quite strong

enough to take care of herself.

The low murmur of fear with which this bold announcement was heard soon

developed into loud cheers, especially from that part of the Hall where

the controlling influence seemed to be held. Then all restraint was cast

aside; and speaker after speaker affirmed, in all varieties of

eloquence, that Australia must be an empire. Some discussed whether New

Zealand should be included, but the general opinion appeared to be that

she should be left to her own decision in the matter. Then the climax

was approached. A speaker rose and said there appeared to be no doubt in

the mind of the meeting as to the Empire of Australia; he hoped there

was no doubt that Lord Reginald Paramatta should be the first Emperor.

The meeting seemed to be getting beyond the control of its leaders. It

did not appear to have been part of their programme to put forward Lord

Reginald's name at this stage. It was an awkward fix, for no person by

name was supposed to be present, so that he could neither disclaim the

honour nor express his thanks for it. One of the controllers, a grave,

tall woman, long past middle age, dealt with this difficulty. They must

not, she said, go too far at first; it was for them now to say whether

Australia should be an empire. She loved to hear the enthusiasm with

which Lord Reginald Paramatta's name was received. Australia boasted no

greater or more distinguished family than the Paramattas; and as for

Lord Reginald, every one knew that a braver and better soldier did not

live. Still they must decide on the Empire before the Emperor, and each

person present must answer the question was he or she favourable to

Australia being constructed into a separate empire? They could not in

this light distinguish hands held up. Each person must rise and throw

off his or her cloak and hat and utter the words, "I declare that I am

favourable to Australia being constituted an empire." Then, evidently

with the intention of making the controllers and Lord Reginald speak

last, she asked the occupant of the seat to the extreme left of the

part of the Hall most distant from her to be the first to declare.

Probably he and a few others had been placed there for that purpose. At

any rate, he rose without hesitation, threw off his cloak, removed his

hat, and said, "I declare myself in favour of Australia being

constituted an empire." Person after person from left to right and from

right to left of each line of chairs followed the same action and

uttered the same words, and throughout the Hall there was a general

removal of cloaks and hats. At length it came to Hilda Fitzherbert's

turn. Without a moment's hesitation, the brave girl rose, dropped her

cloak and hat, and in a voice distinctly heard from end to end of the

Hall said, "I declare I am not in favour of Australia being constituted

an empire."

For a second there was a pause of consternation. Then arose a Babel of

sounds: "Spy!" "Traitor!" "It is Hilda Fitzherbert;" "She must not leave

the Hall alive;" "We have been betrayed." Shrieks and sobs were amongst

the cries to be distinguished. Then there arose a mighty roar of "She

must die," and a movement towards her. It was stilled for a moment. Lord

Reginald rose, and, with a voice heard above all the rest, he thundered

forth, "She shall not die. She shall live on one condition. Leave her to

me;" and he strode towards her.

In one second the girl, like a fawn, sprang up the steps of the dais,

and touched a button concealed in the wall, and then a second button.

Words are insufficient to describe the effect.

The first button was connected with wires that ran through the flooring

and communicated to every being in the Hall excepting to Hilda, on the

insulated dais, a shock of magnetic electricity, the effect of which was

to throw them into instantaneous motionless rigidity. No limb or muscle

could be moved; as the shock found them they remained. And the pressure

of the second button left no doubt of the fact, for it turned on the

electric current to all the lamps inside and outside of the Hall, until

the chamber became a blaze of dazzling light. There was no longer

disguise of face or person, and every visage was at its worst. Fear,

terror, cruelty, or revenge was the mastering expression on nearly every

countenance. Some faces showed that the owners had been entrapped and

betrayed into a situation they had not sought. But these were few, and

could be easily read. On the majority of the countenances there was

branded a mixture of greed, thwarted ambition, personal malignity, and

cruelty horrible to observe. The pose of the persons lent a ludicrous

aspect to the scene. Lord Reginald, for instance, had one foot in front

of the other in the progress he was making towards Hilda. His body was

bent forward. His face wore an expression of triumphant revenge and

brutal love terrible to look at. Evidently he had thought there "was joy

at last for my love and my revenge." Hilda shuddered as she glanced down

upon the sardonic faces beneath her, and touched a third button. An

answering clarionet at once struck out the signal to advance, and the

measured tread of troops in all directions was heard. The poor wretches

in the Hall preserved consciousness of what was passing around, though

they could not exercise their muscular powers and felt no bodily pain.

An officer at the door close to the dais saluted Miss Fitzherbert. "Be

careful," she said, "to put your foot at once on the dais and come up to

me." He approached her. "Have you your orders?" she asked.

"My orders," he said, "are to come from you. We have photographers at

hand."

"Have a photograph," she instructed him, "taken of the whole scene, then

of separate groups, and lastly of each individual. Have it done

quickly," she added, "for the poor wretches suffer mental, if not

physical, pain. Then every one may go free excepting the occupants of

the three top rows. The police should see that these do not leave

Melbourne."

She bowed to the officer, and sprang down the steps and out of the Hall.

At the outer door a tall form met her. She did not require to look--she

was blinded by the light within--to be convinced that it was Colonel

Laurient who received her and placed her in a carriage. She was

overcome. The terrible scene she had passed through had been too much

for her. She did not faint; she appeared to be in a state of numbed

inertness, as if she had lost all mental and physical power. Colonel

Laurient almost carried her into the house, and, with a face of deathly

pallor, consigned her to the care of her sister. Maud had been partly

prepared to expect that Hilda would be strongly agitated by some painful

scene, and she was less struck by her momentary helplessness than by the

agonised agitation of that usually self-commanding being Colonel

Laurient. Probably no one had ever seen him like this before. It may be

that he felt concern not only for Hilda herself, but for the part he had

played in placing her in so agitating a position.

Anno Domini 2000; or, Woman's Destiny · 第 6 / 15 章