the touch of physical weakness in his aspect, left
evidently by severe illness, was not only not disfiguring, but a
positive embellishment. He had been too ruddy in the old days, too
hearty and splendid--a too obvious and supreme king of men--for our
fastidious modern eyes. The grief and misfortune which had shorn some of
his radiance had given a more human spell to what remained. At the same
time the signs of change were by no means, all of them, easy to read, or
reassuring to a friend's eye. Were they no more than physical and
transient?

Penrose was just beginning on the questions which seemed to him
important, when there was another ring at the front door. French got up
nervously, with an anxious look at Barnes.

"Roger! I don't know whether you will allow it, but I met an American
acquaintance of yours to-day, and, subject to your permission, I asked
him to join our conference."

Roger raised his head--it might have been thought, angrily.

"Who on earth----?"

"Captain Boyson?"

The young man's face changed.

"I don't mind him," he said sombrely. "He's an awfully good sort. He was
in Philadelphia a few months ago, when I was. He knows all about me. It
was he and his sister who introduced me to--my wife."

French left the room for a moment, and returned accompanied by a
fair-haired, straight-shouldered man, whom he introduced to Penrose as
Captain Boyson.

Roger rose from his chair to shake hands.

"How do you do, Boyson? I've told them you know all about it." He
dropped back heavily into his seat.

"I thought I might possibly put in a word," said the new-comer, glancing
from Roger to his friends. "I trust I was not impertinent? But don't let
me interrupt anything that was going on."

On a plea of chill, Boyson remained standing by the fire, warming his
hands, looking down upon the other three. Penrose, who belonged to a
military family, reminded himself, as he glanced at the American, of a
recent distinguished book on Military Geography by a Captain Alfred
Boyson. No doubt the same man. A capable face,--the face of the modern
scientific soldier. It breathed alertness; but also some quality warmer
and softer. If the general aspect had been shaped and moulded by an
incessant travail of brain, the humanity of eye and mouth spoke dumbly
to the humanity of others. The council gathered in the vicarage room
felt itself strengthened.

Penrose resumed his questioning of Barnes, and the other two listened
w