nothing in England to make his absence desirable."

"There was nothing," Brooks declared with conviction. "That I can
personally vouch for. His life as a police-court missionary was the
life of a militant martyr's, the life of a saint. The urgent advice of
his physicians alone led him to embark upon that voyage; I see now that
it was a mistake. He left before he had sufficiently recovered to be
safely trusted alone. By the bye," Brooks continued, after a moment's
hesitation, "you have not told me your name, whom I have to thank for
this kindness. Your letters from Canada were not signed."

There was a short silence. From outside came the sound of the pawing
of horses' feet and the jingling of harness.

"I was a fellow-traveller in that great unpeopled world," the visitor
said, "and there was nothing but common humanity in anything I did. I
lived out there as Philip Ferringshaw, here I have to add my title, the
Marquis of Arranmore. I was a younger son in those days. If there is
anything which I have forgotten, I am at Enton for a month or so. It is
an easy walk from Medchester, if your clients can spare you for an
afternoon. Good-night, Mr. Brooks."

He held out his hand. He was sleepy apparently, for his voice had
become almost a drawl, and he stifled a yawn as he passed along the
little passage. Kingston Brooks returned to his little room, and threw
himself back into his easy-chair. Truly this had been a wonderful day.

CHAPTER IV

A QUESTION FOR THE COUNTRY

For the first time in many years it seemed certain that the
Conservatives had lost their hold upon the country. The times were ripe
for a change of any sort. An ill-conducted and ruinous war had drained
the empire of its surplus wealth, and every known industry was suffering
from an almost paralyzing depression--Medchester, perhaps, as severely
as any town in the United Kingdom. Its staple manufactures were being
imported from the States and elsewhere at prices which the local
manufacturers declared to be ruinous. Many of the largest factories
were standing idle, a great majority of the remainder were being worked
at half or three-quarters time. Thoughtful men, looking ten years
ahead, saw the cloud, which even now was threatening enough, grow
blacker and blacker, and shuddered at the thought of the tempest which
before long must break over the land. Meanwhile, the streets were
filled with unemployed, whose demeanour day by day grew less and less
paci