n a privileged class.

He hurried along, relieved to meet no one on the walk, for there were
few who would not have recognised him, and his mood was all for
concealment. Observing from without that the light in Leigh's windows
was dim, he concluded that he was still upon the tower and went on up
the stairs, striking match after match to guide his steps. As he
paused to extinguish the embers, he encountered the blank darkness of
the walls, relieved by ghostly slits of windows holding here and there
a star; and the hollow drumming of the wind was like the sea. It was a
release to emerge at last from this series of aerial prisons and to
stand beneath the wide sweep of the sky. In answer to his knock Leigh
opened the door and confronted him, clothed like a Siberian Cossack.

"Still at it, professor?" Emmet inquired. "I should think you would be
frozen out."

"Come in, Mr. Emmet," Leigh answered. "This is a welcome interruption.
I 've been working at a problem now for a month, and was just beginning
to get a little lonely."

His eyes shone bright in the dim light and his face was somewhat
thinner than Emmet had remembered it, but his manner was buoyant and
alert. The visitor took a chair and glanced about him with interest,
noting the changes that had been made since he last saw the place. He
observed an improvised windbreak of canvas, and a charcoal brasier in
the corner.

"And how do you manage to work that sliding roof in snowy weather?" he
asked.

"A broom, a shovel, some salt to melt the ice, and a little oil for the
wheels"--

"Well, I saw your telescope rising up above the towers about half-past
four, and was so surprised to think that you were still taking
observations that I came up to see how the place looked."

"I 'm making observations for the parallax of Arcturus," Leigh
explained. "The atmosphere is clearer in winter, you know."

"How long might it take, now," Emmet asked jocosely, "to get at the
facts?"

"Who knows? Others have been working at the same problem for twelve
years."

Emmet emitted a low whistle. "What does it all amount to?" he
demanded. "Suppose you do find the what's its name--parallax? It
sounds like the name of some kind of weapon. Why don't you go in for
some other line of business, before it's too late? There's the law,
now--a short cut to politics. You could get somewhere in the world, if
you did n't shut yourself up on this tower and spend your time in
looki