ceived from Mr. Foley, and which he is already carrying
into effect. You read of the Lancashire strike?"

Maxendorf nodded his long head slowly but said nothing.

"The settlement of that," Maraton continued, "was arranged before I
spoke to the people. It is the same with Sheffield. For the first
time, the Parliament of this country has passed a measure compelling the
manufacturers to recognise and treat with the demands of the people.
Trade Unionism has been lifted to an entirely different level. There
are three Bills now being drafted--people's Bills. Revolutionary
measures they would have been called, a thousand years ago. Every
industry in the country will have its day. In the next ten years
Capital will have earned many millions less, and those many millions
will have gone to the labouring classes."

"Is it you who speak," Maxendorf asked grimly, "or is this another
man--a sophist living in the shadow of Maraton's fame? Is there
anything of the truth, anything of the great compelling truth in this
piecemeal legislation? Is it in this way that the freedom of a country
can be gained? One gathered that the Maraton who sent his message
across the seas had different plans."

"I had," Maraton admitted, "but the time came when I was forced to ask
myself whether they were not rather the plans of the dreamer and the
theorist, when I was forced to ask myself whether I was justified in
destroying this generation for the sake of those to come. Life, after
all, is a marvellous gift. You and I may believe in immortality, but
who can be sure? It is easy enough to play chess, but when the pawns
are human lives, who would not hesitate?"

Maxendorf sighed.

"I cannot talk with you, Maraton," he said. "You will not speak with me
honestly. You came, you landed on these shores with an inspired
idea--something magnificent, something worthy. You have substituted for
it the time-worn methods of all the reformers since the days of Adam,
who have parted with their principles and dabbled in sentimental
altruism. Piecemeal legislation--what can it do?"

"It can build," Maraton declared. "It can build, generation by
generation. It can produce a saner race, and as the light comes, so the
truth will flow in upon the minds of all."

"An illusion!" Selingman interrupted, with a sudden fierceness in his
tone. "Once, Maraton, you looked at life sanely enough. Are you sure
that to-day you have not put on the poisoned spectacles? Don't you kno