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point, please? If the situation is as bad as you say, it would be expedient to draw no attention to our knowledge of it, and to reassure those who know something of it but not the substance-therefore one should depart to dress for the opening as one’s progression dictates on time and without sign of turmoil, at least until after the next scheduled ISC meeting. So what exactly are you talking about?”
    “Sir Roderick,” Douglass prompted.
    Sir Roderick looked like a man about to be hanged. “Sire, it pains me to lay this before you, but in the wake of the disturbances in Boston three weeks ago I instigated certain investigations. To draw a long story short, it appears that certain of our paid agents at large have been in actual fact accepting the coin of a second paymaster, whose livres and francs have added color to their reportage-to say nothing of delaying vital intelligence. We are now trying to ascertain the extent of the damage, but it appears that there has been for some time a French spy ring operating in our very halls, and this ring has suborned at least one network of our agents overseas. My men are now trying to isolate the spies, and discover how far the rot has spread.
    “I believe that in addition to perverting the course of incoming intelligence-which they were unable to do with the petard, it would seem, because weather ballonets with scintillation tubes accept no bribes-these enemy agents have been arranging for numerous shipments of gold to arrive in this country. Certainly more gold than usual has been seized on the black market in the past six months, and it appears that certain troublemakers and rabble-rousers have been living high on the hog.”
    “The usual?” John Frederick asked coldly.
    “Levelers and Ranters,” Douglass said quietly. He looked sad. “They never learn, although this treason is, I think, unprecedented in recent years. If true.”
    The king stood up. “We do not tolerate slander and libel and anarchism, much less as a front for that bastard pretender’s machinations!” His cheeks shone; for a moment Farnsworth half-expected him to burst into a denunciation, but after a while the monarch regained control. “Bring forward the next ISC meeting, as soon as possible,” he ordered. “Sir Roderick. We expect a daily briefing on the fruits of your investigation. We realize you have had barely nine months to get to grips with your office, but we must insist on holding you responsible for the progress of the ministry. Should you succeed in leeching it back to health you will find us a forgiving ruler, and we appreciate your candor in bringing the disease to our notice-but if this pot boils over, it will not be the Crown who is scalded.” He glanced round.
    “Farnsworth, attend to our wardrobe. Lord Douglass, thank you for bringing the situation to our attention. We shall now proceed to appear our regal best for the state opening tonight. If you should care to seek audience with us after the recession of parliament, we would value your advice.”
    “I am at your majesty’s service, as always,” murmured the prime minister. He stood, slowly. The minister of Special Affairs rose too, as Farnsworth moved smoothly to ensure the king’s progress back to his dressing room.

    That evening, after the state opening and the royal progress from Brunswick Palace to the Houses of Parliament at the far end of Manhattan island, Farnsworth pulled on a heavy overcoat and slipped out through a side door of the palace, to visit an old acquaintance in a public house just off Gloriana Street.
    Wooden paneling and a brown, stained ceiling testified to the Dutch origins of the Arend’s Nest: the pub’s front windows looked out toward the high-rise tenements crowding the inner wall of the bastion that had protected New York from continental aggression as far back as the late eighteenth century. Now a favorite haunt by day of city stock merchants and the upper crust of businessmen who filled the