aid that is
impossible."

"Ah then, I am sorry," Pateley said, in the tone of one determining, as
Sir William dimly felt, on some course of action. "I thought some
possible course might have suggested itself to you."

"No, I can suggest nothing," Sir William said, leaning back in his
chair, and feeling that neither mind nor body could respond at that
moment to anything that called for fresh initiative.

"I thought that you might have other possibilities on the Stock Exchange
even," said Pateley, "though I must say I don't see in what direction.
There is bound to be a panic the moment war is declared."

There was a pause. Sir William lay back in his chair looking vaguely in
front of him. Pateley sat waiting. Then Gore felt a strange flutter at
his heart as the full bearing of Pateley's last sentence dawned upon
him.

"Supposing," he said, trying to speak steadily, "there were no war?"

"That is hardly worth discussing," said Pateley briefly, as he got up.
"War, I am afraid, is practically certain. Then do I understand, Sir
William," he continued, "that you can do nothing to help me in this
matter? If so, I am sorry. I had hoped I might have spared you some
discomfort, but since you can do nothing----" He broke off and looked
quickly out of the window, then said in explanation, "It is only a
hansom stopping next door; I thought it might be Rendel coming back. But
I was mistaken."

Sir William realised that every instant was precious.

"Pateley," he said, "look here. If you could wait a day or two
longer...."

"Do you mean," said Pateley, "that if I were to wait there would be a
chance of your being able to do something?"

"I don't know," said Sir William, "I am not sure, but there might be a
turn in public affairs; the panic might be over, there might be a chance
of peace."

"If that is all," Pateley said quite definitely, "I am afraid that
prospect is not enough to build upon. I can't afford to wait on that
security."

Sir William got up and spoke quickly with a visible effort.

"Look here, listen... I have a reason for thinking that is the way
things may be turning."

"A reason?" said Pateley, turning round upon him.

"Yes," said Sir William.

"What is it?" said Pateley.

Sir William felt his courage failing him in the desperate game he had
begun to play. It was no good pausing now. He stood facing Pateley,
holding a folded paper in his hand, no longer hidden by the newspaper
which had slid from