aradise. We are of the people's party, you and I, Mannering, and
I tell you that the tocsin has sounded. We need you!"

A shadow had fallen upon Mannering's face. Borrowdean was in earnest, and
his appeal was scarcely one to be treated lightly. Nevertheless,
Mannering showed no sign of faltering, though his tone was certainly
graver.

"Leslie," he said, "you speak like a prophet, but believe me, my mind is
made up. I have taken root here. Such work as I can do from my study is,
as it always has been, at your service. But I myself have finished with
actual political life. Don't press me too hard. I must seem churlish and
ungrateful, but if I listened to you for hours the result would be the
same. I have finished with actual political life."

Borrowdean shrugged his shoulders despairingly. Such a man was hard to
deal with.

"Mannering," he protested, "you must not, you really must not, send me
away like this. You speak of your written work. Don't think that I
underestimate it because I have not alluded to it before. I myself
honestly believe that it was those wonderful articles of yours in the
_Nineteenth Century_ which brought back to a reasonable frame of mind
thousands who were half led away by the glamour of this new campaign. You
kindled the torch, my friend, and you must bear it to victory. You bring
me to my last resource. If you will not serve under Rochester, come
back--and Rochester will serve under you when the time comes."

Mannering shook his head slowly.

"I wish I could convince you," he said, "once and for all, that my
refusal springs from no such reasons as you seem to imagine. I would
sooner sit here, with a volume of Pater or Meredith, and this west wind
blowing in my face, than I would hear myself acclaimed Prime Minister of
England. Let us abandon this discussion once and for all, Borrowdean. We
have arrived at a cul-de-sac, and I have spoken my last word."

Borrowdean threw his half-finished cigarette into the ever-widening creek
below. It was characteristic of the man that his face showed no sign of
disappointment. Only for several moments he kept silence.

"Come," Mannering said at last. "Let us make our way back to the house.
If you are resolved to get back to town to-night, we ought to be thinking
about luncheon."

"Thank you," Borrowdean said. "I must return."

They started to walk inland, but they had taken only a few steps when
they both, as though by a common impulse, stopped. An u