s written on sand which the first
sweep of washing waves would wipe out and leave motiveless; that others
must stand by with ready stylus, to write again and again that which was
swept away. In other words, he must have aides; that these aides, if
they were to remain steadfast, must be thinking men, impressed with the
justice of their position.

Hartwell had supplied just the motive that was needed. As yet, it was
not apparent; but it was on the way. When it arrived there would be no
doubt of its identity, or the course of action which must then be
pursued. Morrison was sure that it would come, was sure of the riot that
would follow. His face darkened, flattened to the similitude of a
serpent about to strike.

There was a flaw in Morrison's otherwise perfect fruit. Where hitherto
had been the calm of undisputed possession was now the rage of baffled
desire. Aside from momentary resentment at Elise's first interview with
Firmstone, the fact had made little impression on him. As Pierre ruled
his household, even so he intended to rule his own, and, according to
Morrison's idea of the conventional, a temporary trifling with another
man was one of the undeniable perquisites of an engaged girl. Morrison
had been too sure of himself to feel a twinge of jealousy, rather
considering such a course of action, when not too frequently indulged,
an additional tribute to his own personality. What Morrison mistook for
love was only passion. It was honourable, insomuch as he intended to
make Elise his wife.

Morrison ascribed only one motive to the subsequent meetings which he
knew took place between Elise and Firmstone. Elise was drifting farther
and farther from him, in spite of all that he could do. "Rowing," as he
expressed it, had not been of infrequent occurrence between himself and
Elise before Firmstone had appeared on the scene; but on such occasions
Elise had been as ready for a "mix-up" as she was now anxious to avoid
one. There was another thing to which he could not close his eyes. There
had been defiance, hatred, an eager fierceness, both in attack and
defence, which was now wholly lacking. On several recent occasions he
had sought a quarrel with Elise; but while she had stood her ground,
there was a contempt in her manner, her eyes, her voice, which could not
do otherwise than attract his attention.

To do Morrison the justice which he really deserved, there was in him as
much of love for Elise as his nature was capab