the table and shrieked. Even the Home Secretary, a
severe, humourless, legal gentleman, cackled. The Prime Minister,
whose perceptions were of the quickest, saw that anger would be
ridiculous in the midst of laughter. He admitted the First Lord's
victory, and forced a smile.

"You are not a diplomatist, Mr. Dawson," said he reprovingly.

"Like Marcus Antonius," whispered the First Lord, as he wiped his eyes
delicately, "he is a plain, blunt man."

The War Minister pulled a sheet of paper towards' him and began to
write. He scribbled for a few minutes, made a few corrections, and
then read out slowly the words which he had set down. All present saw
that the moment of acute crisis had arrived.

"That is all that I want," said Dawson. "If you will sign that paper,
my lord, I need not trouble you gentlemen any longer."

"I am one of His Majesty's principal Secretaries of State," observed
the War Minister. "Shall I sign, sir?"

"I believe," remarked the Home Secretary primly, "that if one has
regard for strict historical accuracy there is but one Secretary of
State, and that I am that one."

"I will not trouble you," said the War Minister.

"I am technically responsible for the country over which I am supposed
to rule," put in the Scottish Secretary plaintively. "I speak, of
course under correction, but north of the Border my signature might--"

"You are not a Secretary of State," growled the War Minister, "and
your seat is not safe. No one shall sign except myself, for I have no
need to seek after working-class votes. Dawson and I will face this
music."

"And if I decline to permit you to sign?" asked the Prime Minister
blandly. "This is not a Cabinet meeting, and we have no power to
commit the Government to so grave a step."

"You will require to fill up the vacant position of Secretary for
War," came the answer.

"And also the humble post of First Lord of the Admiralty," murmured
that high officer of State. "We are up against realities, and Cabinet
etiquette can go hang for me."

The War Minister again read aloud what he had written, signed it
carefully and deliberately, and rising up, handed it to Dawson. "Get
it printed at once and go ahead, Mr. Dawson."

"Captain Dawson, R.M.L.I.," corrected the First Lord, who also rose
and warmly shook hands with the new captain. "You shall be gazetted at
once. I will see the Adjutant-General myself and give orders to
Chatham."

"You have both made up your minds?"