iced, to be of an unusual shape and written in some
strange character.

Mr. Haswell, a stout, jovial-looking, little man with a florid
complexion and white hair, rose at once to greet him.

"How do you do, Alan," he said in a cheerful voice, for as a cousin by
marriage he called him by his Christian name. "I am just this minute
back from Paris, and you will be glad to learn that they are going to
support us very well there; in fact I may say that the Government has
taken up the scheme, of course under the rose. You know the French have
possessions all along that coast and they won't be sorry to find
an opportunity of stretching out their hand a little further. Our
difficulties as to capital are at an end, for a full third of it is
guaranteed in Paris, and I expect that small investors and speculators
for the rise will gobble a lot more. We shall plant L10,000,000 worth of
Sahara scrip in sunny France, my boy, and foggy England has underwritten
the rest. It will be a case of 'letters of Allotment and regret,' _and_
regret, Alan, financially the most successful issue of the last dozen
years. What do you say to that?" and in his elation the little man
puffed out his chest and pursing up his lips, blew through them, making
a sound like that of wind among wires.

"I don't know, Mr. Haswell. If we are all alive I would prefer to answer
the question twelve months hence, or later, when we see whether the
company is going to be a practical success as well, or not."

Again Mr. Haswell made the sound of wind among wires, only this time
there was a shriller note in it; its mellowness was gone, it was as
though the air had suddenly been filled with frost.

"A practical success!" he repeated after him. "That is scarcely our
affair, is it? Promoters should not bother themselves with long views,
Alan. These may be left to the investing public, the speculative
parson and the maiden lady who likes a flutter--those props of modern
enterprise. But what do you mean? You originated this idea and always
said that the profits should be great."

"Yes, Mr. Haswell, on a moderate capitalization and provided that we are
sure of the co-operation of the Porte."

Mr. Haswell looked at him very searchingly and Sir Robert, who had been
listening, said in his cold voice:

"I think that we thrashed out these points long ago, and to tell you the
truth I am rather tired of them, especially as it is too late to change
anything. How did you get on w