“I have told you,” Maraton answered.

“Yes, you have told us,” Maxendorf continued.  “Supposing there were still a way by which even this present generation could reap the benefit?  Are you great enough, Maraton, to listen to me, I wonder?  That is what I ask myself since you have become a Party politician, a friend of Ministers, since you have joined in the puppet dance of the world.  See to what I have brought my people.  In ten years’ time I tell you that nearly every industry in my country will be conducted upon a profit-sharing basis.”

“You have brought them to this,” Maraton reminded him swiftly, “by peaceful methods.”

“For me there were no other needed,” Maxendorf urged.  “For you the case is different.  If you are one of those who love to strut about and boast of your nationality, if you are one of those in whom lingers the smallest particle of the falsest sentiment which the age of romance has ever handed down to us—­what they call patriotism—­then my words will be wasted.  But here is the message which I have brought to you and to your people.  This is the dream of my life which he, Selingman, alone has known of—­the fusion of our races.”

“Magnificent!” Selingman cried, springing to his feet.  “The dream of a god!  Listen to it, Maraton.  My brain has realised it.  I, too, have seen it.  Your country is bound in the everlasting shackles.  Generations must pass before you can even weaken the hold of your bourgeoisie upon the soul and spirit of your land.  You are tied hard and fast, and withal you are on the downward grade.  The work which you do to-day, the next generation will undo.  Give up this foolish legislation.  Listen to Maxendorf.  He will show you the way.”

“When you speak of fusion,” Maraton asked, “you mean conquest?”

“There is no such word,” Maxendorf insisted.  “The hearts of our people are close together.  Put aside all these artificial ententes and alliances.  There are no two people whose ideals and whose aims and whose destiny are so close together as your country’s and mine.  It is for that very reason that these periods of distrust and suspicion continually occur, suspicions which impoverish two countries with the millions we spend on senseless schemes of defence.  Away with them all.  Stop the pendulum of your country.  Declare your coal strike, your railway strike, your ironfounders’ strike.  Let the revolution come.  I tell you then that we shall appear not as invaders, but as friends and liberators.  Your industries shall start again on a new basis, the basis which you and I know of, the basis which gives to the toilers their just and legitimate share of what they produce.  Your trade shall flourish just as it flourished before, but away to dust and powder with your streets of pig-sties, the rat-holes into which your weary labourers creep after their hours of senseless slavery.  You and I, Maraton, know how industries should be conducted.  You