y urgent."

Sir Isaac scorned him in a profound gaze. The smoke from their two
magnificent cigars mingled in a canopy above them.

"Not it!" said Sir Isaac. "What's more, it's not wanted at all. They
think it is, because they're absolutely incapable of thought. They know
the word 'war' and they know the word 'barracks.' They put them together
and imagine it's logic. They say: 'We were going to build a barracks,
and now we're at war. Therefore we must hurry up with the barracks.'
That's how they reason, and the official mind will never get beyond it.
_Why_ do they want the barracks? If they want the barracks, what's the
meaning of what they call 'the response of the Indian Empire'? Are they
going to send troops to India or take them away from India? They're
going to take them away, of course. Mutiny of India's silent millions?
Rubbish! Not because a mutiny would contradict the far-famed 'response
of the Indian Empire,' but because India's silent millions haven't got a
rifle amongst them. You needn't tell me they've given you forty reasons
for getting on with that barracks. I know their reasons. All of 'em put
together only mean that in a dull, dim Oxford-and-Cambridge way they see
a connexion between the word 'war' and the word 'barracks.'"

George laughed, and then, after a few seconds, Sir Isaac gave a short,
rough laugh.

"But if they insist on me going to India--" George began, and paused.

Sir Isaac grew meditative.

"I say, speaking of voyages," he murmured in a tone almost dreamy. "If
you have any loose money, put it into ships, and keep it there. You'll
double it, you'll treble it.... Any ships. No matter what ships."

"Well, I haven't got any loose money," said George curtly. "And what I
want to know is, if they insist on me going to India, what am I to do?"

"Tell them you can't go. Tell 'em your professional engagements won't
permit it. They'll lick your boots, and ask humbly if you can suggest
any suitable person to represent you. I shall want all your energies,
and my factory will be worth more to this country in the war than all
the barracks under heaven. Now just bend your eye to these."

He took some papers from his tail-pocket. The discussion grew technical.

III

George sailed down Piccadilly westwards on the top of a motor-bus. The
August afternoon was superb. Piccadilly showed more than its usual
splendour of traffic, for the class to whom the sacred word 'England'
signified personal d