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It was, doubtless, a novelty for a
young man brought up as Lord Evelyn had been to associate with a
gin-drinking Irish reporter, and to regard him as the mysterious apostle
of a new creed; Brand only saw in O'Halloran a light-headed,
imaginative, talkative person, as safe to trust to for guidance as a
will-o'-the-wisp. It is true that for the time being he had been
thrilled by the passionate fervor of Natalie Lind's singing; and many a
time since he could have fancied that he heard in the stillness of the
night that pathetic and vibrating appeal--
"When, when will the Lord cry, 'Revenge, it is mine?'"
But he dissociated her from her father's schemes altogether. No doubt
she was moved by the generous enthusiasm of a young girl. She had a
warm, human, sympathetic heart; the cry of the poor and the suffering
appealed to her; and she was confident in the success of projects of
which she had been prudently kept ignorant. This was George Brand's
reading. He would not have Natalie Lind associated with Leicester Square
and a lot of garlic-eating revolutionaries.


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