"Nigel," he said, "we are living in strange times."

"No one denies that, sir," was the grave assent.

Lord Dorminster glanced at the calendar which stood upon the desk.

"To-day," he continued, "is the twenty-third day of March, nineteen
hundred and thirty-four. Fifteen years ago that terrible Peace Treaty
was signed. Since then you know what the history of our country has
been. I am not blowing my own trumpet when I say that nearly every man
with true political insight has been cast adrift. At the present moment
the country is in the hands of a body of highly respectable and
well-meaning men who, as a parish council, might conduct the affairs of
Dorminster Town with unqualified success. As statesmen they do not
exist. It seems to me, Nigel, that you and I are going to see in reality
that spectre which terrified the world twenty years ago. We are going to
see the breaking up of a mighty empire."

"Tell me what has happened or is going to happen," Nigel begged.

"Well, for one thing," his uncle replied, "the Emperor of the East is
preparing for a visit to Europe. He will be here probably next month.
You know whom I mean, of course?"

"Prince Shan!" Nigel exclaimed.

"Prince Shan of China," Lord Dorminster assented. "His coming links up
many things which had been puzzling me. I tell you, Nigel, what happens
during Prince Shan's visit will probably decide the destinies of this