h fools as that."

"Still," I said, "he's broken the law. After all, a party like yours in
close alliance with the Government of the country must do something to
maintain the majesty of the law."

"Law be damned," said Gorman. "What the devil does law matter to us or
the Government either? What we've got to consider is popular opinion."

"And that," I said, "seems to be setting against you. According to
the theory of democracy as I understand it, you're bound to go the way
popular opinion is blowing you. You can't, without gross inconsistency,
start beating to windward against it."

"Winds sometimes change," said Gorman.

"They do. This one has. It was all in your favour a fortnight ago.
Now, what with your 'plot' and this really striking little episode in
Larne----"

"The art of government," said Gorman, "consists in manipulating the
wind, making it blow the way it's wanted to. What we've got to do is to
go one better than the Ulster men."

"Ah," I said, "they imported rifles. You might land a shipload of large
cannons. Is that the idea?"

"They needn't necessarily be real cannons. I don't think our funds would
run to real cannons. Besides, what good would they be when we had
them? But you've got the main idea all right. Our game is to pull off
something which will startle the blessed British public, impress it with
the fact that we're just as desperate as the other fellows."

"What about the police?" I said. "The police have always had a down on
your side. It's a tradition in the force."

"The police aren't fools," said Gorman. "They know jolly well that any
policemen who attempted to interfere with our coup, whatever it may be,
would simply be dismissed. After all, we're not doing any harm. We're
not going to shoot any one. We're simply going to influence public
opinion. Every one has a right to do that. By the way, did I mention
that my play is being revived? Talking of public opinion reminded me of
it. It had quite a success when it was first put on."

Gorman is charming. He never sticks to one subject long enough to be
really tiresome.

"I'm delighted to hear it," I said. "I hope it will-do even better this
time."

"It ought to," said Gorman. "We've got a capital press agent, and, of
course, my name is far better known than it was. It isn't every day the
public gets a play written by a Member of Parliament."

"Where is it to be produced?" "The Parthenon. Good big house."

The Parthenon is one of