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We're taking over a whole planet; it'll be another Sword-World in forty or fifty years." "Inside another century, we'll conquer the whole Federation," Baron Rathmore declared. He was a politician and never let exaggeration worry him. "What I don't understand," Harkaman said, "is why you support Duke Angus, Lord Trask, if you think the Tanith adventure is doing Gram so much harm."
He'll probably take it to Joyeuse or Excalibur and buy himself a lordship with it." "Oh, I doubt that, Garvan. A number of our people are going along Guatt Kirbey will be the astrogator; you'd trust him, wouldn't you? And Sir Paytrik Morland, and Baron Rathmore, and Lord Valpry, and Rolve Hemmerding...." He was silent for a moment, struck by an idea.
Circumstances were against the girl who had practically been turned out of her own room while the party was having a glorious time eating salad, macaroons, ice cream, and various other indigestible combinations of "sweeties." Cora Rathmore had escaped. How? Her mates did not stop to investigate that mystery. If Cora could have explained she did not set about it.
The Madame pointed to it. "What is this, Miss Bruce?" she demanded. "Let me tell you!" cried Jennie. "That's what I came in for, Madame. These horrid girls Rathmore and her tribe have just hounded Nancy so that she wanted to run away." "Run away?" gasped the principal. "From Pinewood?" "Yes, Madame!
Trask didn't know the man who was screening, but Hugh Rathmore did; Duke Joris' confidential secretary. "Prince Trask; I must speak to you as soon as possible," he began, almost stuttering. Whatever the urgency of his mission, one would have thought that a three-thousand-hour voyage would have taken some of the edge from it. "It is of the first importance." "You are speaking to me.
"Number 30, West." "She's chummed with Miss Rathmore, then," said the older girl, quickly. "Yes. I must break up that clique. Put her with Miss Rathmore. And do see that the child has some dinner; she must be hungry," said the Madame, laughing again. Then she once more shook Nancy's hand. "Go with Corinne, dear. If you want to know anything, ask her.
And one thing I am very sure of," pursued Cora. "I will not remain in Number 30 with this this nameless girl that no one knows anything about." "Quite so, Miss Rathmore," observed a quiet voice behind the excited Cora. "What you say is emphatic, at least; and it really seems to be in earnest. Therefore, it shall have my respectful consideration."
It was a completely trivial and irrelevant claim, but the story was that it would be supported by King Konrad of Haulteclere. Immediately, Baron Rathmore, Lord Valpry, Lothar Ffayle and the other Gram people began clamoring that he should go back with a fleet and seize the throne for himself. Harkaman, Valkanhayn, Karffard and the other Space Vikings were as vehement against it.
So incorrigibly foolish were the attacks of Mr Dillon and his friends on the Reform Association that Lord Rathmore was able to say in the House of Lords: "Not only did the Unionist Party in Ireland denounce the Dunraven scheme as worse than the Home Rule of Mr Gladstone, but their language was mild in comparison to the language of contempt which a great many of the Irish Nationalist patriots showered upon the proposals of the noble earl."
"Yes," Harkaman pounced on that last. "I know of at least forty instances, on a dozen and a half planets, in the last eight centuries, of anti-technological movements. They had them on Terra, back as far as the Second Century Pre-Atomic. And after Venus seceded from the First Federation, before the Second Federation was organized." "You're interested in history?" Rathmore asked. "A hobby.
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