wanted to make believe; he wanted to pretend that his path lay down
a flowery way, knowing all the while that he had a hill to climb and
Destiny stood at the top.

Colville had come at the right time. It is the fate of some men to come
at the right moment, just as it is the lot of others never to be there
when they are wanted and their place is filled by a bystander and an
opportunity is gone for ever. Which is always a serious matter, for God
only gives one or two opportunities to each of us.

Colville had come with his ready sympathy, not expressed as the
world expresses its sympathy, in words, but by a hundred little
self-abnegations. He was always ready to act up to the principles of
his companion for the moment or to act up to no principles at all should
that companion be deficient. Moreover, he never took it upon himself to
judge others, but extended to his neighbour a large tolerance, in return
for which he seemed to ask nothing.

"I have a carriage," he said, when on a broader cart-track they could
walk side by side, "waiting for me at the roadside inn at the junction
of the two roads. The man brought me from Ipswich to the outskirts of
Farlingford, and I sent him back to the high road to wait for me there,
to put up and stay all night, if necessary."

Barebone was beginning to feel tired. The wind was abominably cold. He
heard with satisfaction that Colville had as usual foreseen his wishes.

"I dogged Turner all the way from Paris, hardly letting him out of my
sight," Colville explained, cheerily, when they at length reached the
road. "It is easy enough to keep in touch with one so remarkably stout,
for every one remembers him. What did he come to Farlingford for?"

"Apparently to try and buy me off."

"For Louis Bonaparte?"

"He did not say so."

"No," said Colville. "He would not say so. But it is pretty generally
suspected that he is in that galley, and pulls an important oar in it,
too. What did he offer you?"

"Fifty thousand pounds."

"Whew!" whistled Colville. He stopped short in the middle of the road.
"Whew!" he repeated, thoughtfully, "fifty thousand pounds! Gad! They
must be afraid of you. They must think that we are in a strong position.
And what did you say, Barebone?"

"I refused."

"Why?"

Barebone paused, and after a moment's thought made no answer at all. He
could not explain to Dormer Colville his reason for refusing.

"Outright?" inquired Colville, deep in thought.

"Y