"
There followed a long spell of silence, O'Moy sitting back in his
chair, his chin in his hand, to observe the result of his words.
Nor was he in the least disappointed. Dom Miguel's mouth fell open;
the colour slowly ebbed from his cheeks, leaving them an
ivory-yellow; his eyes dilated and protruded. He was consternation
incarnate.
"My God!" he contrived to gasp at last, and his shaking hands
clutched at the carved arms of his chair.
"Ye don't seem as pleased as I expected," ventured O'Moy.
"But, General, surely . . . surely his Excellency cannot mean to
take so . . . so terrible a step?"
"Terrible to whom, sir?" wondered O'Moy.
"Terrible to us all." Forjas rose in his agitation. He came to
lean upon O'Moy's writing-table, facing the adjutant. "Surely, sir,
our interests - England's interests and Portugal's - are one in
this."
"To be sure. But England's interests can be defended elsewhere than
in Portugal, and it is Lord Wellington's view that they shall be.
He has already warned the Council of Regency that, since his Majesty
and the Prince Regent have entrusted him with the command of the
British and Portuguese armies, he will not suffer the Council or any
of its members to interfere with his conduct of the military
operations, or suffer any criticism or suggestion of theirs to alter
system formed upon mature consideration.
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