me to be so
many other things in life better worth doing than making fugitive laws
for a dissatisfied country."

"Tell me," his hostess asked, "what do you yourself consider the
things better worth doing?"

Saton hesitated. For the first time, he seemed scarcely at his ease.
He glanced across at Rochester, and down at his plate.

"The sciences," he answered, quietly. "There are many torches lit
which need strong hands to carry them forward."

Lois leaned across the table. As yet she had scarcely spoken, but she
had listened intently to his every word.

"Which of the sciences, Mr. Saton?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

He smiled at her, and hesitated a moment before answering.

"There are so many," he said, "which are equally fascinating, but I
think that it is always the least known which is the most attractive.
When I spoke, I was really thinking of one which many people would
scarcely reckon amongst the orthodox list. I mean occultism."

There was a little murmur of interest. Saton himself, however,
deliberately turned the conversation. He reverted to a diplomatic
incident which had come to his notice when in Brazil, and asked Lord
Penarvon's opinion concerning it.

"By the bye," the latter asked, as their conversation drew toward a
close, "how long did you say that you had been in England, Mr. Saton?"

"A very short time," Saton answered, with a faint smile. "I have been
something of a wanderer for years."

"And you came from?" Rochester asked, leaning a little forward.

Saton smiled as his eyes met his host's. He hesitated perceptibly.

"I came from the land where the impossible sometimes happens," he
answered, lightly, "the land where one dreams in the evening, and is
never sure when one wakes in the morning that one's dreams have not
become solid things."

Lady Mary sighed.

"Can one get a Cook's ticket?" she asked.

"Can one get there by motor-car, or even flying-machine?" Lois
demanded. "I would risk my bones to find my way there."

Saton laughed.

"Unfortunately," he said, "there is a different path for every one of
us, and there are no signposts."

Lady Mary sighed as she rose to her feet. She nodded a friendly little
farewell to her interesting neighbor.

"Then we may as well go and have some really good bridge," she said,
"until you men take it into your heads to come and disturb us."

CHAPTER IV

A QUESTION OF OBLIGATION

Afternoon tea was being served in the hall a