ver them!

He rose, but Martin seemed in no haste to bring the conversation to an
end.

'Have you read M'Naughten's much-discussed book?'

'Yes.'

'Did you see the savage attack in _The Critical_ not long ago?'

Godwin smiled, and made quiet answer:

'I should think it was the last word of scientific bitterness and
intolerance.'

'Scientific?' repeated Martin, doubtfully. 'I don't think the writer
was a man of science. I saw it somewhere attributed to Huxley, but that
was preposterous. To begin with, Huxley would have signed his name;
and, again, his English is better. The article seemed to me to be
stamped with literary rancour; it was written by some man who envies
M'Naughten's success.'

Peak kept silence. Martin's censure of the anonymous author's style
stung him to the quick, and he had much ado to command his countenance.

'Still,' pursued the other, 'I felt that much of his satire was only
too well pointed. M'Naughten is suggestive; but one comes across books
of the same purpose which can have no result but to injure their cause
with all thinking people.'

'I have seen many such,' remarked Godwin.

Mr. Warricombe stepped to a bookcase and took down a small volume.

'I wonder whether you know this book of Ampare's, _La Grace, Rome, et
Dante_? Delightful for odd moments!--There came into my mind a passage
here at the beginning, apropos of what we were saying: "_Il faut
souvent un vrai courage pour persister dans une opinion juste en depit
de ses defenseurs_."--Isn't that capital?'

Peak received it with genuine appreciation; for once he was able to
laugh unfeignedly. The aphorism had so many applications from his own
point of view.

'Excellent!--I don't remember to have seen the book.'

'Take it, if you care to.'

This offer seemed a distinct advance in Mr. Warricombe's friendliness.
Godwin felt a thrill of encouragement.

'Then you will let me keep this translation for a day or two?' Martin
added, indicating the sheets of manuscript. 'I am greatly obliged to
you for enabling me to read the thing.'

They shook hands. Godwin had entertained a slight hope that he might be
asked to stay to luncheon; but it could not be much past twelve
o'clock, and on the whole there was every reason for feeling satisfied
with the results of his visit. Before long he would probably receive
another invitation to dine. So with light step he went out into the
hall, where Martin again shook hands with him.

The s