no mistake. He had chosen to grip the nettle danger, and he knew that
gentle measures were no longer possible. He must enlist Colonel
Sullivan, or--but it has been said that he was one hardened by long
custom, and no novice in dealing with the lives of men.

"If it be a question only of the chances," he said, after some beating
about the bush, "if I am right in supposing that it is only that which
withholds Colonel Sullivan from joining us----"

"I do not say it is," Colonel John replied very gravely. "Far from it,
sir. But to deal with it on that basis: while I can admire, reverend
sir, the man who is ready to set his life on a desperate hazard to gain
something which he sets above that life, I take the case to be
different where it is a question of the lives of others. Then I say the
chances must be weighed--carefully weighed, and tried in the balance."

"However sacred the cause and high the aim?"

"I think so."

The Bishop sighed, his chin sinking on his breast. "I am sorry," he
said, in a voice that sufficiently declared his depression--"I am
sorry."

"That we cannot see alike in a matter so grave? Yes, sir, so am I."

"No. That I met you this morning."

"I am not sorry," Colonel John replied, stoutly refusing to see the
other's meaning. "For--hear me out, I beg. You and I have seen the
world and can weigh the chances. Your friend, too, Captain Machin"--he
pronounced the name in an odd tone--"he too knows on what he is
embarked and how he will stand if the result be failure. It may be that
he already has his home, his rank, and his fortune in foreign parts,
and will be little the worse if the worst befall."

"I?" Machin cried, stung out of his taciturnity. And he rose with an
air of menace from his seat. "Let me tell you, sir, that I fling back
the insinuation!"

But the Colonel refused to listen. He proceeded as if the other were
not speaking. "You, reverend sir, yourself," he continued, "you too
know, and well, on what you are embarking, its prospects and the issue
for you, if it fail. But, you--I give you credit for it--are by your
profession and choice devoted to a life of danger. You are willing, day
by day and hour by hour, to run the risk of death. But these, my cousin
there"--looking with a kind eye at Flavia--"she----"

"Leave me out!" she cried passionately. And she rose to her feet, her
face on fire. "I separate myself from you! I, for my part, ask no
better than to suffer for my country!"