re Englishmen, Irishmen, Scotchmen, or
Welshmen. We are just subjects of the King, and inhabitants of the
British Islands; and the man who does not believe that, and act upon his
belief, should get out of these islands as soon as he can, for he isn't
fit to live in them.

"I remember, sir, a car-driver in Galway, who was taking an English
tourist--and he was a politician as well--around the country about that
half-ruined city. The English tourist was inquiring into the troubles of
Ireland, and he asked him what was the greatest affliction that Ireland
suffered from, and when he answered him he described just the sort of
Irishman who won't be wanted in Ireland now. He said, 'It's the absentee
landlords, your honour. This unfortunate country is absolutely swarming
with them.'"

It was an anti-climax such as only an Irishman could have achieved. The
tension which had held every nerve of every member on the stretch while
the Prime Minister was speaking was broken. The Irish members, almost to
a man, jumped to their feet, as Mr Redmond picked up his hat, waved it
round his head, and said, in a tone which rang clear and true through
the crowded Chamber:

"God save the King!"

And then for the first time in its history, the House of Commons rose
and sang the National Anthem.

There was no division that night. The Prime Minister formally put the
motion for the voting of such credit as might be necessary to meet the
expenses of the war, and when the Speaker put the question, Ay or Nay,
every member stood up bareheaded, and a deep-voiced, thunderous "Ay"
told the leagued nations of Europe that Britain had accepted their
challenge.

CHAPTER VII

CAUGHT!

The events of that memorable night formed a most emphatic contradiction
to the prophecy in Macaulay's "Armada":

"Such night in England ne'er had been, nor e'er again shall be."

The speeches in the House of Commons and in the House of Peers were
being printed even as they were spoken; hundreds of printing-presses
were grinding out millions of copies of newspapers. Thousands of
newsboys were running along the pavements, or with great bags of new
editions slung on their shoulders tearing through the traffic on
bicycles; but all the speeches in the two Houses of Parliament, all the
reports and hurriedly-written leaders in the papers just represented to
the popular mind one word, and that word was war.

It was true that for over a hundred years no year