uld depend. It was just
possible that he could defeat his enemy without his secret weapon; in
that event he pictured himself writing a letter to Harry, half
sorrowful, half magnanimous, in which he would leave that young man to
settle matters with his conscience, and, for his own part, wash his
hands of the whole affair. But his conviction was that there would come
a critical moment at which he could go to Iver, not (as he must now)
without any compelling reason, but in the guise of a friend who acts
reluctantly yet under an imperious call. What would happen if he did?
Victory, he used to repeat to himself. But often his heart sank. Mina
was with him no more; he never thought of Neeld as a possible ally;
Harry's position was strong. Among the reasons for inactivity which
Duplay did not acknowledge to himself was the simple and common one that
he was in his heart afraid to act. He meant to act, but he shrank from
it and postponed the hour as long as he could. Defeat would be very
ignominious; and he could not deny that defeat was possible merely from
want of means to carry on the war. When the Major recognized this fact
he was filled with a sombre indignation at the inequalities of wealth,
and at the ways of a world wherein not even Truth shall triumph unless
she commands a big credit at the bank.

And Mina annoyed him intensely, assuming an aggrieved air, and hinting
severe moral condemnation in every glance of her eye. She behaved for
all the world as though the Major had begun the whole thing, and
entirely ignored her own responsibility. She conveyed the view that he
was the unscrupulous assailant, she the devoted defender, of the
Tristrams. Such a _volte-face_ as this was not only palpably unjust, it
was altogether too nimble a bit of gymnastics for Duplay to appreciate.
The general unreasonableness of woman was his only refuge; but the dogma
could not bring understanding, much less consolation, with it.

"What did you tell me for, then?" he cried at last. "You were hot on it
then. Now you say you won't help me, you'll have nothing more to do with
it!"

"I only told it you as--as a remarkable circumstance," the Imp alleged,
with a wanton disregard for truth.

"Nonsense, Mina. You were delighted to have a weapon against young
Tristram then."

"I can't help it if you insist on misunderstanding me, uncle; and,
anyhow, I suppose I can change my mind if I like, can't I?"

"No," he declared, "it's not fair to me. I