ow," he said, in an inflectionless voice, "you will be moved by
automobile to a farm I have selected in the country. You will take only
such small luggage as the car can carry."

"Is Olga going with me?"

"No. Olga is needed here."

"I suppose I am to understand from this that Louis has been defeated and
there is no longer any reason for delay in your plans."

"You can understand what you like."

"Am I to know where I am going?"

"You will find that out when you get there. I will tell you this: It is
a lonely place, without a telephone. You'll be cut off from your family,
I am afraid."

She gazed at him. It seemed unbelievable to her that she had once lain
in this man's arms.

"Why don't you kill me, Jim? I know you've thought about it."

"Yes, I've thought of it. But killing is a confession of fear, my dear.
I am not afraid of you."

"I think you are. You are afraid now to tell me when you are going to
try to put this wild plan into execution."

He smiled at her with mocking eyes.

"Yes," he agreed again. "I am afraid. You have a sort of diabolical
ingenuity, not intelligence so much as cunning. But because I always do
the thing I'm afraid to do, I'll tell you. Of course, if you succeed in
passing it on--" He shrugged his shoulders. "Very well, then. With your
usual logic of deduction, you have guessed correctly. Louis Akers has
been defeated. Your family--and how strangely you are a Cardew!--lost
its courage at the last moment, and a gentleman named Hendricks is now
setting up imitation beer and cheap cigars to his friends."

Behind his mocking voice she knew the real fury of the man, kept
carefully in control by his iron will.

"As you have also correctly surmised," he went on, "there is now nothing
to be gained by any delay. A very few days, three or four, and--" His
voice grew hard and terrible--"the first stone in the foundation of
this capitalistic government will go. Inevitable law, inevitable
retribution--" His voice trailed off. He turned like a man asleep and
went toward the door. There he stopped and faced her.

"I've told you," he said darkly. "I am not afraid of you. You can no
more stop this thing than you can stop living by ceasing to breathe. It
has come."

She heard him in his room for some time after that, and she surmised
from the way he moved, from closet to bed and back again, that he was
packing a bag. At two o'clock she heard Olga coming in; the girl was
singing in Russian, a