did occur. Before it arrived he knew
that it was arriving. The voice cried solemnly:

"George Edwin Cannon."

An awful stillness and silence followed, enveloping the entire infinite
plain. George trembled. He was there, but he was not there. Men looked
at each other, raising their eyebrows. The voice did not deign to repeat
the call. After a suitable pause, the voice cried solemnly:

"Everard Lucas."

And Lucas in his new uniform stepped gravely forward and saluted and
walked away.

"Was I asleep or awake?" George asked himself. He could not decide. At
any rate the scene impressed him. The bigness of the plain, the summons,
the silence, the utter absence of an expression of reproof or regret--of
any comment whatever.

At five o'clock he arose, and sat down in his dressing-gown at Lois's
very untidy and very small writing-desk, and wrote a letter on her
notepaper. The early morning was lovely; it was celestial.

"DEAR DAVIDS," the letter began.--That would annoy the fellow, who liked
the address respectful.--"Dear Davids, I have decided to join the Army,
and therefore cannot proceed further with your commission. However, the
general idea is complete. I advise you to get it carried out by Lucas &
Enwright. Enwright is the best architect in England. You may take this
from me. I'm his disciple. You might ring me up at the office this
afternoon.--Yours faithfully, GEORGE CANNON"

"P.S.--Assuming you go to Lucas & Enwright, I can either make some
arrangement with them as to sharing fees myself, or you can pay me an
agreed sum for the work I've done, and start afresh elsewhere. I shall
want all the money I can get hold of."

Yes, Sir Isaac would be very angry. George smiled. He was not
triumphant, but he was calm. In the full sanity of the morning, every
reason against his going into the Army had vanished. The material
objection was ridiculous--with Edwin Clayhanger at the back of him!
Moreover, some money would be coming in. The professional objection was
equally ridiculous. The design for the Indian barracks existed complete;
and middle-aged mediocrity could carry it out in a fashion, and Lucas &
Enwright could carry it out better than he could carry it out himself.
As for Davids, he had written. There was nothing else of importance in
his office. The other competition had not been won. If people said that
he had been influenced by Lucas's uniform, well, they must say it. They
would not say it for more than a few