ng at ten o'clock, while the workmen were still tacking
down the fireproof carpets in headquarters upstairs, and before even the
advance guard of the armies had begun to arrive, the eye of the clerk was
caught by a tall young man rapidly approaching the desk.

"Is Mr. Hilary Vane here?"

"He's in Number Seven," said Mr. McAvoy, who was cudgelling his brains.
"Give me your card, and I'll send it up."

"I'll go up," said the caller, turning on his heel and suiting the action
to the word, leaving Mr. McAvoy to make active but futile inquiries among
the few travelling men and reporters seated about.

"Well, if you fellers don't know him, I give up," said the clerk,
irritably, "but he looks as if he ought to be somebody. He knows his
business, anyway."

In the meantime Mr. Vane's caller had reached the first floor; he
hesitated just a moment before knocking at the door of Number Seven, and
the Honourable Hilary's voice responded. The door opened.

Hilary was seated, as usual, beside the marble-topped table, which was
covered with newspapers and memoranda. In the room were Mr. Ridout, the
capital lawyer, and Mr. Manning, the division superintendent. There was
an instant of surprised silence on the part of the three, but the
Honourable Hilary was the only one who remained expressionless.

"If you don't mind, gentlemen," said the visitor, "I should like to talk
to my father for a few minutes."

"Why, certainly, Austen," Mr. Ridout replied, with an attempt at
heartiness. Further words seemed to fail him, and he left the room
somewhat awkwardly, followed by Mr. Manning; but the Honourable Hilary
appeared to take no notice of this proceeding.

"Judge," said Austen, when the door had closed behind them, "I won't keep
you long. I didn't come down here to plead with you to abandon what you
believe to be your duty, because I know that would be useless. I have had
a talk with Dr. Tredway," he added gently, "and I realize that you are
risking your life. If I could take you back to Ripton I would, but I know
that I cannot. I see your point of view, and if I were in your place I
should do the same thing. I only wanted to tell you this--" Austen's
voice caught a little, "if--anything should happen, I shall be at Mrs.
Peasley's on Maple Street, opposite the Duncan house." He laid his hand
for an instant, in the old familiar way, on Hilary's shoulder, and looked
down into the older man's face. It may have been that Hilary's lips
tr