And to-day, says Mr. Endor, and I for one can believe him, the U. P. means war with China. And to-morrow it may mean war with somebody of more importance than China."
"Serve 'em right."
The ill-timed remark from the other end of the table was drowned in a chorus of stern dissent. Even to these ardent minds such a contingency was not to be thought of. But on one point the great man at the table head was emphatic. Until the U. P. was brought under control there could be no security for any nation, any body of persons, any private individual. And the moment being opportune, Sir Munt clinched his argument with the story of the recent singular occurrence in that city. Several of those who heard it, although not among the admirers of John Endor—his views were much too "woolly" for thoroughgoing Imperialists—had been present at the famous luncheon. These now bore reluctant witness to the fact that he had been mis-*reported. Not that it particularly mattered. Speechifying didn't cut much ice in these times. And it was reasonable to allow every orator a certain amount of latitude at a champagne luncheon.
"All very well," growled Sir Munt. "But that speech has gone round the world. His friends here, knowing the man and knowing the circumstances in which the speech was made, are content to believe that some one has blundered. I don't put it higher than that. But
