ry-friends then, and on court- or fair-days. What a hard-fisted,
shrewd people they were! talking bad English (like Jane herself); but
there was more refinement and softness of feeling among them than among
city-bred men. He should relish that life again; it suited him. To die
like a grub? But he _had_ done his work. Thank God!

He opened the window to catch the damp air, as Dr. Bowdler came in and
touched him on the arm.

"Shall we stay here? Mr. Aikens has come, and they have been testing the
machine for some time, I find. Go? Certainly, but--You're a little
nervous, Mr. Starke, and--Wouldn't it be better if you were not present?
They would be freer in deciding, and--suppose you and I stay here?"

"Eh? How? At it for some time?" hurrying out. "At it?" as the Doctor
tried to keep pace with him. "Why, God bless my soul, Sir, what can
_they_ do? Nobody understands the valves but myself. A set of
ignoramuses, Sir. I saw that at a glance. But it's my last
chance,"--panting and wheezing before he reached the back lobby, and
holding his hand to his side.

Dr. Bowdler stopped outside.

"What are you waiting here for, Mary?"

"I want to hear. What chance has it? I think I'd give something off my
own life, if that man had succeeded in doing a great thing."

"Not much of a chance, Aikens says. The theory is good, but they are
afraid the expense will make it of no practical use. However, they have
not decided. It is well it is his last chance, though, as he says. I
never saw a man who had dragged himself so near to insanity in pursuit
of a hobby. Nothing but a great reaction can save him."

"Success, you mean? I think that man's life is worth a thousand aimless
ones, Sir. If it fails, where's your 'justice on earth'? I"--

She pushed her curls back hotly. The Doctor did not answer.

The trial lasted until late in the afternoon. One or two of the
gentlemen came out at odd times to luncheon, which was spread in the
adjoining room. They looked grave, and talked earnestly in low tones:
the man had infected them with his own feeling in a measure.

"I don't know when I was more concerned for the success of anything not
my own," said Mr. Aikens to Miss Defourchet, as he rose to go back to
the lobby, putting down his glass. "It is such a daring innovation; it
would be worth thousands per annum to me, if I could make it
practicable. And then that poor devil himself,--I feel as if we were
trying him for his life to-day. It's pi