of it by the
hour, spoken of you, prayed for some prophet on your side with eyes to
see the truth. Into the lift with you, man. Look for me to-morrow.
Farewell!"

CHAPTER XXXI

Maraton was more than ever conscious, as he climbed the stairs of the
house in Downing Street an hour or so later, of a certain fragility of
appearance in Mr. Foley, markedly apparent during these last few weeks.
He was standing talking to Lord Armley, who was one of the late
arrivals, as Maraton entered, talking in a low tone and with an
obviously serious manner. At the sound of Maraton's name, however, he
turned swiftly around. His face seemed to lighten. He held out his
hand with an air almost of relief.

"So you have come!" he exclaimed. "I am glad."

Maraton shook hands and would have passed on, but Mr. Foley detained
him.

"Armley and I were talking about this after noon's decision," he
continued. "There will be no secret about it to-morrow. It has been
decided to carry out our autumn manoeuvred as usual in South em waters."

Maraton nodded.

"I am afraid that is one of the things the significance of which fails
to reach me," he remarked. "You were against it, were you not?"

Mr. Foley groaned softly.

"My friend," he said, "there is only one fault with the Members of my
Government, only one fault with this country. We are all foolishly and
blindly sanguine. We are optimistic by persuasion and self-persuasion.
We like the comfortable creed. I suppose that the bogey of war has
strutted with us for so long that we have grown used to it."

Maraton looked at his companion thoughtfully.

"Do you seriously believe, Mr. Foley," he asked in an undertone, "in
the possibility, in the imminent possibility of war?"

Mr. Foley half-closed his eyes and sighed.

"Oh, my dear Maraton," he murmured, "it isn't a question of belief!
It's like asking me whether I believe I can see from here into my own
drawing-room. The figures in there are real enough, aren't they? So is
the cloud I can see gathering all the time over our heads. It is a
question only of the propitious moment--of that there is no manner of
doubt."

"You speak of affairs," Maraton admitted, "of which I know nothing. I
do not even understand the balance of power. I always thought, though,
that every great nation, our own included, paid a certain amount of
insurance in the shape of huge contributions towards a navy and army;
that we paid such insurance as was necessary and