s arms, which were very long and thin, over a narrow
chest, while his eyes restlessly countered those of Sir Henry.

Chicksands paused a moment before replying.

'I have a good many papers here to show you,' he said at last,
mildly, drawing a large envelope half-way from the inner pocket of
his coat to illustrate his words, and then putting it back again.
'But I really can't discuss them except with yourself.'

The Squire's eyes shot battle.

'It's the war, of course,' he said with emphasis; 'it's all the war.
I'm told to do things I don't want to do, which affect my personal
freedom, and other people's, because of a war I don't believe in,
never asked for, and don't approve of. Here's Levasseur now, a
clever fellow, cleverer than either you or me, Chicksands, and he's
no more patriotic than I am. You talk to him!'

'Thank you, I'm too busy,' said Sir Henry sharply, his face
stiffening. 'Where can you see me, Mannering? I'm rather pressed for
time. Is the smoking-room free?' And with a marked avoidance of any
concern with the gentleman on the floor, who had by now risen to his
feet, Sir Henry made an impatient movement towards a door at the
further end of the library which stood ajar.

Levasseur looked amused. He was a strongly-built, smooth-shaven
fellow, with rather long hair, and the sallow look of the
cigarette-smoker. His eyes were sleepy, his expression indolent or
good-natured.

'Oh, I'll make myself scarce with the greatest pleasure,' he said
civilly. 'I can stroll about the park till you're ready for me
again,' he added, turning to the Squire. 'Lovely day--I'll take a
book and some cigarettes.' And diving into an open box which stood
near he filled his cigarette-case from it, and then looked round him
for a book. 'Where's that copy of the _Anthology_? That'll do
nicely.'

The Squire burst into a laugh, observing Sir Henry.

'He's over military age, Chicksands.'

'I suppose so,' said Sir Henry stiffly.

'But only by six months, when the Act passed. So he's _just_ escaped
you.'

'I've really no concern whatever with Mr. Levasseur's affairs.' Sir
Henry had flushed angrily. 'Is it to be here, or the smoking-room?'

'Ta-ta! See you again presently,' said Levasseur. 'Ah, there's the
book!' And diving to the floor for a hat and a book lying beside it,
he made off, lighting a cigarette, with a laughing backward glance
towards the Squire and his companion.

'Well, now, what is it?' said Mannering, thr