at first hand. Some impatience. It's my old
work, but the harness is different. It has been chafing me a little in
one or two tender places."

"I hope you'll get on over there," said the great man kindly, extending
his hand, soft to the touch, but broad and powerful like the hand of a
glorified farmer. The Assistant Commissioner shook it, and withdrew.

In the outer room Toodles, who had been waiting perched on the edge of a
table, advanced to meet him, subduing his natural buoyancy.

"Well? Satisfactory?" he asked, with airy importance.

"Perfectly. You've earned my undying gratitude," answered the Assistant
Commissioner, whose long face looked wooden in contrast with the peculiar
character of the other's gravity, which seemed perpetually ready to break
into ripples and chuckles.

"That's all right. But seriously, you can't imagine how irritated he is
by the attacks on his Bill for the Nationalisation of Fisheries. They
call it the beginning of social revolution. Of course, it is a
revolutionary measure. But these fellows have no decency. The personal
attacks--"

"I read the papers," remarked the Assistant Commissioner.

"Odious? Eh? And you have no notion what a mass of work he has got to
get through every day. He does it all himself. Seems unable to trust
anyone with these Fisheries."

"And yet he's given a whole half hour to the consideration of my very
small sprat," interjected the Assistant Commissioner.

"Small! Is it? I'm glad to hear that. But it's a pity you didn't keep
away, then. This fight takes it out of him frightfully. The man's
getting exhausted. I feel it by the way he leans on my arm as we walk
over. And, I say, is he safe in the streets? Mullins has been marching
his men up here this afternoon. There's a constable stuck by every
lamp-post, and every second person we meet between this and Palace Yard
is an obvious 'tec.' It will get on his nerves presently. I say, these
foreign scoundrels aren't likely to throw something at him--are they? It
would be a national calamity. The country can't spare him."

"Not to mention yourself. He leans on your arm," suggested the Assistant
Commissioner soberly. "You would both go."

"It would be an easy way for a young man to go down into history? Not so
many British Ministers have been assassinated as to make it a minor
incident. But seriously now--"

"I am afraid that if you want to go down into history you'll have to do