The voice of Mr. Lavender maintained its steady flow, rising and falling with the tides of his pain and his feelings.  “What, then, is our duty?  Is it not plain and simple?  We require every man in the Army, for that is the ‘sine qua non’ of victory.  We must greatly reinforce the ranks of labour in our shipyards—­ships, ships, ships, always more ships; for without them we shall infallibly be defeated.  We cannot too often repeat that we must see the great drama that is being played before our eyes steadily, and we must see it whole....  Not a man must be taken from the cultivation of our soil, for on that depends our very existence as a nation.  Without abundant labour of the right sort on the land we cannot hope to cope with the menace of the pirate submarine.  We must have the long vision, and not be scuppered by the fears of those who would deplete our most vital industry . . . .  In munition works,” wailed Mr. Lavender’s voice, as he reached the fourth leader, “we still require the maximum of effort, and a considerable reinforcement of manpower will in that direction be necessary to enable us to establish the overwhelming superiority in the air and in guns which alone can ensure the defeat of our enemies"....  He reached the fifth in what was almost a scream.  “Every man up to sixty must be mobilized but here we would utter the most emphatic caveat.  In the end this war will be won by the country whose financial position stands the strain best.  The last copper bullet will be the deciding factor.  Our economic strength must on no account be diminished.  We cannot at this time of day afford to deplete the ranks of trade and let out the very life-blood in our veins.”  “We must see,” groaned Mr. Lavender, “the problem steadily, and see it whole.”

“Poor old geyser!” said the gardener; “’e do seem bad.”

“Old me!” said Joe.

“I’ll get on the sill and see what I can do through the top o’ the window.”

He got up, and, held by the gardener, put his arm through.  There was the sound of considerable disturbance, and through the barking of Blink, Mr. Lavender’s voice was heard again:  “Stanch in the middle of the cataclysm, unruffled by the waters of heaven and hell, let us be captains of our souls.  Down, Blink, down!”

“He’s out!” said Joe, rejoining the gardener.  “Now for it, before my missis comes!” and he ran into the house.

Mr. Lavender was walking dazedly in the hall with the journals held out before him.

“Joe,” he said, catching sight of his servant, “get the car ready.  I must be in five places at once, for only thus can we defeat the greatest danger which ever threatened the future of civilization.”

“Right-o, sir,” replied Joe; and, waiting till his master turned round, he seized him round the legs, and lifting that thin little body ascended the stairs, while Mr. Lavender, with the journals waving fanlike in his hands, his white hair on end, and his legs kicking, endeavoured to turn his head to see what agency was moving him.