ther, half hidden among the voluminous furs of the
carriage, was a pale, humpbacked lad, with a fine, expressive,
intellectual face, and large, animated, almost woman-like eyes. The
former was George Brand, of Brand Beeches, Bucks, a bachelor unattached,
and a person of no particular occupation, except that he had tumbled
about the world a good deal, surveying mankind with more or less of
interest or indifference. His companion and friend, the bright-eyed,
beautiful-faced, humpbacked lad, was Ernest Francis D'Agincourt,
thirteenth Baron Evelyn.

The discussion was warm, though the elder of the two friends spoke
deprecatingly, at times even scornfully.

"I know what is behind all that," he said. "They are making a dupe of
you, Evelyn. A parcel of miserable Leicester Square conspirators,
plundering the working-man of all countries of his small savings, and
humbugging him with promises of twopenny-halfpenny revolutions! That is
not the sort of thing for you to mix in. It is not English, all that
dagger and dark-lantern business, even if it were real; but when it is
only theatrical--when they are only stage daggers--when the wretched
creatures who mouth about assassination and revolution are only
swaggering for half-pence--bah! What part do you propose to play?"

"I tell you it has nothing to do with daggers and dark lanterns," said
the other with even greater warmth. "Why will you run your head against
a windmill? Why must you see farther into a mile-stone than anybody
else? I wonder, with all your travelling, you have not got rid of some
of that detestable English prejudice and suspicion. I tell you that when
I am allowed, even as an outsider, to see something of this vast
organization for the defence of the oppressed, for the protection of the
weak, the vindication of the injured, in every country throughout the
globe--when I see the splendid possibilities before it--when I find that
even a useless fellow like myself may do some little thing to lessen the
mighty mass of injustice and wrong in the world--well, I am not going to
stop to see that every one of my associates is of pure English birth,
with a brother-in-law on the Bench, and an uncle in the House of Lords.
I am glad enough to have something to do that is worth doing; something
to believe in; something to hope for. You--what do you believe in? What
is there in heaven or earth that you believe in?"

"Suppose I say that I believe in you, Evelyn?" said his frien