woman to rail
against fidelity.

The 30th of August arrived. In the afternoon of that day she received
the following telegram from Alston Lake:

"Crayford and I start motor trip to-morrow he thinks Germany have no
fear all right Marseilles or I Dutchman.--LAKE."

As she read this telegram Charmian knew that the two men would come to
Algiers. She believed in Alston Lake. He had an extraordinary faculty
for carrying things through; and Crayford was fond of him. Crayford had
been kind, generous to the boy, and loved him as a man may love his own
good action. Lake, as he had said in private to Charmian, could "do a
lot with dear old Crayford."

He would certainly bring Crayford to Mustapha. Old Jernington must go.

The 31st of August dawned and began to fade.

Charmian felt desperate. She resolved to tackle Claude on the matter.
Old Jernington would never understand unless she said to him, "Go! For
Heaven's sake, go!" And even then he would probably think that she was
saying the reverse of what she meant, in an effort after that type of
playful humor which, for all she knew, perhaps still prevailed in his
native Suffolk. She had bent Claude to her purposes before. She must
bend him to her purpose now.

"Claudie," she said, "you know what an old dear I think Jernington,
don't you?"

Claude looked up at her with rather searching eyes. She had come into
his workroom at sunset. All day she had been considering what would be
the best thing to do. Old Jernington was strolling in the garden smoking
a very German pipe after having been "at it" for many hours.

"Jernington?"

"Yes, old Jernington."

"Of course he's an excellent fellow. What about him?"

She sat down delicately. She was looking very calm, and her movement was
very quiet.

"Well, I'm beginning almost to hate him!" she remarked quietly.

"What do you mean, Charmian?"

"If I tell you are you going to get angry?"

"Why should I get angry?"

"You are looking very fierce."

He altered his expression.

"It's the work," he muttered. "When one grinds as I do one does feel
fierce."

"That's why I'm beginning to--well, love Mr. Jernington a little less
than I used to. He's almost killing you."

"Jernington!"

"Yes. It's got to stop."

Her voice and manner had quite changed. She spoke now with earnest and
very serious decision.

"What?"

"The work, Claude. I've seen for some time that unless you take a short
holiday you are going to b