archmont's, Morewood and the
Dean also being of the company.

"I did, and without it I should have got a worse thrashing," said Dick
stoutly; it would be unkind to scrutinise too closely the sincerity of
this statement.

"Quisante had the sense to throw it over," growled Constantine; his
equanimity was not up to its usual standard.

"It's wisdom to lighten the ship in a storm," smiled Marchmont.

"Yes, and to jettison other people's heavy luggage first," said Morewood.

"The duty of a captain, I suppose," murmured the Dean with a smile.

"You needn't begin with your best guns," argued Dick, a little hotly.

"We can't let Dick appropriate our metaphor to his own purposes," said
Marchmont. "As a matter of fact now, had the Crusade much to do with it?"

Morewood interposed before Dick could answer.

"Oh, only as a Crusade. 'Causes' of any kind are properly suspected,"
said he. "For my part I should imitate the noble simplicity of municipal
election bills. 'Down with the rates!' Quite enough, you know. The end is
indisputably attractive, and you aren't such an ass as to try to indicate
the means. So you get in."

"And don't do it?" The question was Marchmont's.

"Of course not--or what would you have to say next time?"

"The other side has always prevented your doing it?" the Dean suggested.

"Mostly, yes--by factious opposition."

"You fellows don't seem to care," observed Constantine Blair moodily,
"but I tell you we're out for four or five years at least."

There was a pause; the accused persons looked at one another; then
Marchmont had the courage to observe that the country would perhaps live
through the period of calamity before it.

"The country, yes, but how about some of the party?" asked Morewood. "How
about that, Blair? You're supposed to be the man who feeds the ravens and
providently caters for the sparrows, you know. You'll have your hands
full, I should think."

Blair's look expressed the opinion that they trenched on mysteries; he
had these little traits of self-importance, sitting funnily on a round
and merry face. Marchmont laughed as he turned to Dick and enquired after
Jimmy.

"He was helping you, I suppose?"

"Yes, after Quisante was in. He's all right." Dick's tone was slightly
reserved.

"Did Quisante help you? He seems to have helped everybody; the man ran
about like an electric current."

"I didn't ask him to come to me. I felt, you know----"

"Yes, I see. But Jimmy didn't