Arnold was interested.  He had only the slightest acquaintance with Hannaford, and would like to hear more of him.

“Not long ago,” Piers responded, “he was a teacher of chemistry at Geneva—­I got to know him there.  He seems to speak half a dozen languages in perfection; I believe he was born in Switzerland.  His house down in Surrey is a museum of modern weapons—­a regular armoury.  He has invented some new gun.”

“So I gathered.  And a new explosive, I’m told.”

“I hope he doesn’t store it in his house?” said Mr. Jacks, looking with concern at Piers.

“I’ve had a moment’s uneasiness about that, now and then,” Otway replied, laughing, “especially after hearing him talk.”

“A tremendous fellow!” Arnold exclaimed admiringly.  “He showed me, by sketch diagrams, how many men he could kill within a given space.”

“If this gentleman were not your friend, Mr. Otway,” began the host, “I should say——­”

“Oh, pray say whatever you like!  He isn’t my friend at all, and I detest his inventions.”

“Shocking!” fell sweetly from the lady at the head of the table.

“As usual, I must beg leave to differ,” put in Arnold.  “What would become of us if we left all that kind of thing to the other countries?  Hannaford is a patriot.  He struck me as quite disinterested; personal gain is nothing to him.  He loves his country, and is using his genius in her service.”

John Jacks nodded.

“Well, yes, yes.  But I wish your father were here, Mr. Otway, to give his estimate of such genius; at all events if he thinks as he did years ago.  Get him on that topic, and he was one of the most eloquent men living.  I am convinced that he only wanted a little more self-confidence to become a real power in public life—­a genuine orator, such, perhaps, as England has never had.”

“Nor ever will have,” Arnold interrupted.  “We act instead of talking.”

“My dear boy,” said his father weightily, “we talk very much, and very badly; in pulpit, and Parliament, and press, We want the man who has something new to say, and knows how to say it.  For my own part, I don’t think, when he comes, that he will glorify explosives.  I want to hear someone talk about Peace—­and not from the commercial point of view.  The slaughterers shan’t have it all their own way, Arnold; civilisation will be too strong for them, and if Old England doesn’t lead in that direction, it will be her shame to the end of history.”

Arnold smiled, but kept silence.  Mrs. Jacks looked and murmured her approval.

“I wish Hannaford could hear you,” said Piers Otway.

When they rose from the table, John Jacks invited the young man to come with him into his study for a little private talk.

“I haven’t many books here,” he said, noticing Otway’s glance at the shelves.  “My library is down in Yorkshire, at the old home; where I shall be very glad indeed to see you, whenever you come north in vacation-time.  Well now, let us make friends; tell me something about yourself.  You are reading for the Civil Service, I understand?”