the station-master at
Wye, is here on credentials, and he says for sure the thing's fizzled
out, and Tom Gaylord's left the hall!"

Again a silence, save for the high hum let in through the open doorway.
The members of the conference stared at the Honourable Hilary, who seemed
to have forgotten their presence; for he had moved his chair to the
window, and was gazing out over the roofs at the fast-fading red in the
western sky.

An hour later, when the room was in darkness save for the bar of light
that streamed in from the platform chandelier, Senator Whitredge entered.

"Hilary!" he said.

There was no answer. Mr. Whitredge felt in his pocket for a match, struck
it, and lighted the single jet over the basswood table. Mr. Vane still
sat by the window. The senator turned and closed the door, and read from
a paper in his hand; so used was he to formality that he read it
formally, yet with a feeling of intense relief, of deference, of apology.

"Fifth ballot:--The Honourable Giles Henderson of Kingston has . . . 587;
The Honourable Adam B. Hunt of Edmundton has . . . 230; The Honourable
Humphrey Crewe of Leith has . . . 154.

And Giles Henderson is nominated--Hilary?"

"Yes," said Mr. Vane.

"I don't think any of us were--quite ourselves to-day. It wasn't that we
didn't believe in you--but we didn't have all the threads in our hands,
and--for reasons which I think I can understand--you didn't take us into
your confidence. I want to--"

The words died on the senator's lips. So absorbed had he been in his
momentous news, and solicitous over the result of his explanation, that
his eye looked outward for the first time, and even then accidentally.

"Hilary!" he cried; "for God's sake, what's the matter? Are you sick?"

"Yes, Whitredge," said Mr. Vane, slowly, "sick at heart."

It was but natural that these extraordinary and incomprehensible words
should have puzzled and frightened the senator more than ever.

"Your heart!" he repeated.

"Yes, my heart," said Hilary.

The senator reached for the ice-water on the table.

"Here," he cried, pouring out a glass, "it's only the heat--it's been a
hard day--drink this."

But Hilary did not raise his arm. The door opened others coming to
congratulate Hilary Vane on the greatest victory he had ever won. Offices
were secure once more, the feudal system intact, and rebels justly
punished; others coming to make their peace with the commander whom,
senseless as they we