GENERAL. The success was due in a large measure to the perfection
of the apparatus suggested a week ago by your Majesty's scientific
adviser.

POTENTATE (_blanching a little_). Ah, then it was not a charge, eh?

GENERAL. The charge followed, Sire; but the work was already done. The
defenders of the trench were already dead or dying before our heroes
reached it.

POTENTATE (_sinking back in his chair with his finger to his lips,
and a slight frown_). Thank you, General, your news is of the best.
I will detain you no longer. (_The_ GENERAL _bows._) Stay! Has a
counterattack been launched yet?

GENERAL. Not yet, Sire. No doubt one will be attempted to-night. Our
men are prepared.

POTENTATE. Good. Bring me fresh news as soon as it arrives.
Good-night, General, good-night.

(_Exit_ GENERAL.)

(_The_ POTENTATE _sits musing for a considerable time. A
slight cough is heard, and he raises his head._)

POTENTATE (_slowly_). Enter!

(_Enter a tall figure in a long black academic gown and black