Prelude to the Second Weltkrieg - Part 4: Canada

Part 3

On cue the lights went out. Before Spenser could flash out in frustration though, Thomas and a suite of the other servants entered and began to illuminate the room at once. A host of candles and lamps brought back a dimmer, yellow glow to the room that nonetheless sufficed.

"Very good, thank you Thomas."

The servants left almost as quickly as they came in, leaving Spenser with thoughts of Russia, and a dimly lit map of the huge country. Less huge than it had been, surely, but Kerensky had, by all measures, done a good job bringing it into the modern era. Why, hadn't Russia been one of the fastest growing economies the last decade? Yes, he was sure he'd read that somewhere. If they could achieve that feat, surely their days of fighting with hand-crafted rifles and Napoleon-era artillery was over too. This Kornilov seemed like he had a bit of a harsh streak, but perhaps after all these years of Kerensky's soft hand, the Russian spirit for hard dictators was finally reappearing. Russian politics tended to bore Spenser, but he nonetheless forced himself to stay abreast of the headlines at the least. What mattered less than who was leading the charge was their willingness to take on the Kaiser and all his little puppets out east. Most of them seemed weak and ineffectual, with the Ukranian kingdom in particular seeming—

Another impromptu knock on the door. Spenser, who had had quite enough interruptions for one night, spun about in his chair. "What is it?" He roared.

Thomas, face flushed and chest heaving, took a moment before replying. "I'm sorry sir, but it appears the rioters are headed in this direction."

"Rioters? Here? In Westmount? You must be mistaken, the police would never allow such a thing."

"I'm afraid so sir. That's the loud noises just outside sir. And Jacques, ermh, one of the servants sir, he was just down the street and informed me that they've started—"

"Thomas," Spenser instituted the voice he reserved for the help when they were at their most unhelpful: a deep bellow, from the diaphragm.

"Ye..yes sir?"

"We have discussed this, have we not?"

"Yes... sir."

"You were to take precautions and prepare for small eventualities like this, no? Those were your responsibilities, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"And I pray that you have fulfilled those responsibilities."

"I... I have sir."

"Good. Now, I wish to be left to my devices the rest of the evening. You will see to it that these rabble don't interrupt me again, won't you? I won't have to seek out a new valet tomorrow morning, shall I?"

"No sir," Thomas righted himself. Spenser saw the fruits of his leadership paying off at once. "Of course not sir."

"Good," Spenser allowed his tone to soften just slightly. "Now, I expect that you won't bother me again tonight unless you are called for, understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. That will be all Thomas."

Before the Frenchman could close the door behind himself, Spenser called out one more time. "Thomas!"

"Yes sir?"

"What is all this business about? I mean, these so-called rioters?"

"Conscription sir, of course. The Parliament introduced the Bill C-7 today."

"Conscription? Well how do they think we're going to be able to fight this war without it?"

"I think they're opposed to the war itself sir."