santly feeling
its way through the absurdities, the vulgarities, the deceptions, the
inanities, toward a goal that was worth the winning. Crayford had always
wanted to be one of the recognized leaders of what he called "high-class
artistic enterprise" in the States, and especially in his native city of
New York. And he was ready to spend a lot of his "pile" to "get there."

Of late years he had been getting there. He had run a fine theater on
Broadway, and had "presented" several native and foreign stars in
productions which had been remarkable for the beauty and novelty of the
staging and "effects." And, finally, he had built an opera house, and
had "put up" a big fight against the mighty interests concentrated in
the New York Metropolitan. He had dropped thousands upon thousands of
dollars. But he was now a very rich man, and he was a man who was
prepared to lose thousands on the road if he reached the goal at last.
He was a good fighter, a man of grit, a man with a busy brain, and a
profound belief in his own capacities. And he was remarkably clever.
Somehow he had picked up three foreign languages. Somehow he had learned
a good deal about a variety of subjects, among them music. Combative, he
would yield to no opinion, even on matters of which he knew far less
than those opposed to him. But he had a natural "flair" which often
carried him happily through difficult situations, and helped him to "win
out all right" in the end. The old habit of the showman made him
inclined to look on those whom he presented in his various enterprises
as material, and sometimes battled with an artistic instinct which often
led him to pick out what was good from the seething mass of mediocrity.
He believed profoundly in names. But he believed also in "new blood,"
and was for ever on the look-out for it.

He felt pretty sure he had found "new blood" at Djenan-el-Maqui.

But Claude must trust him, bow to him, be ready to follow his lead of a
long experience if he was to do anything with Claude's work. Great names
he let alone. They had captured the public and had to be trusted. But
people without names must be malleable as wax is. Otherwise he would not
touch them.

Such was the man who entered into the conflict with Claude. Charmian was
passionately on his side because of ambition. Alston Lake was on his
side because of gratitude, and in expectation.

The opera was promising, but it had to be "made over," and Crayford was
absolutely