too, tried very hard to keep back the inevitable; not only because itself went under, but because everything that it stood for went under. And it had to suffer—heartache . . . that sort of suffering. Isn't it so?"
I did not answer; the illustration was too abominably just. It was just that. There were even now all these people—these Legitimist—sneering ineffectually; shutting themselves away from the light in their mournful houses and suffering horribly because everything that they stood for had gone under.
"But even if I believe you," I said, "the thing is too horrible, and your tools are too mean; that man who has just gone out and—and Callan—are they the weapons of the inevitable? After all, the Revolution . . ." I was striving to get back to tangible ideas—ideas that one could name and date and label . . . "the Revolution was noble in essence and made for good. But all this of yours is too vile and too petty. You are bribing, or something worse, that man to betray his master. And that you call helping on the inevitable . . ."
"They used to say just that of the Revolution.
[191]
