More.  This cause is not lost.

Mendip.  Right or wrong, as lost as ever was cause in all this world.  There was never a time when the word “patriotism” stirred mob sentiment as it does now.  ’Ware “Mob,” Stephen—–­’ware “Mob”!

More.  Because general sentiment’s against me, I—­a public man—­am to deny my faith?  The point is not whether I’m right or wrong, Mendip, but whether I’m to sneak out of my conviction because it’s unpopular.

The Dean.  I’m afraid I must go. [To Katherine] Good-night, my dear!  Ah!  Hubert! [He greets Hubert] Mr. Mendip, I go your way.  Can I drop you?

Mendip.  Thank you.  Good-night, Mrs. More.  Stop him!  It’s perdition.

     [He and the Dean go out.  Katherine puts her arm in Helen’s, and
     takes her out of the room.  Hubert remains standing by the door]

Sir John.  I knew your views were extreme in many ways, Stephen, but I never thought the husband of my daughter would be a Peace-at-any-price man!

More.  I am not!  But I prefer to fight some one my own size.

Sir John.  Well!  I can only hope to God you’ll come to your senses before you commit the folly of this speech.  I must get back to the War Office.  Good-night, Hubert.

Hubert.  Good-night, Father.

     [Sir John goes out.  Hubert stands motionless, dejected.]

Hubert.  We’ve got our orders.

More.  What?  When d’you sail?

Hubert.  At once.

More.  Poor Helen!

Hubert.  Not married a year; pretty bad luck! [More touches his arm in sympathy] Well!  We’ve got to put feelings in our pockets.  Look here, Stephen—­don’t make that speech!  Think of Katherine—­with the Dad at the War Office, and me going out, and Ralph and old George out there already!  You can’t trust your tongue when you’re hot about a thing.

More.  I must speak, Hubert.

Hubert.  No, no!  Bottle yourself up for to-night.  The next few hours ’ll see it begin. [More turns from him] If you don’t care whether you mess up your own career—­don’t tear Katherine in two!

More.  You’re not shirking your duty because of your wife.

Hubert.  Well!  You’re riding for a fall, and a godless mucker it’ll be.  This’ll be no picnic.  We shall get some nasty knocks out there.  Wait and see the feeling here when we’ve had a force or two cut up in those mountains.  It’s awful country.  Those fellows have got modern arms, and are jolly good fighters.  Do drop it, Stephen!

More.  Must risk something, sometimes, Hubert—­even in my profession!

     [As he speaks, Katherine comes in.]