ndall carried you with him; for he dealt with men and things as he
had brothered and known them, before ever he let loose, in a fiery
peroration, that abstract idea of Empire patriotism which ruled his
life.

But it was not all this that made my paltry journalistic task a hard
one. It was my certainty of Crondall's lofty sincerity. From that
afternoon I date the beginning of the end of my _Daily Gazette_
engagement. Some men in my shoes would have moved to success from this
point; gaining from it either complete unscrupulousness, or the bold
decision which would have made them important as friends or enemies.
For my part I was simply slackened by the episode. I met John Crondall
several times again. He chaffed me in the most generous fashion over my
abominably unfair report of the luncheon gathering. He influenced me
greatly, though my opinions remained untouched, so far as I knew.

I cannot explain just how John Crondall influenced me, but I am very
conscious that he had a broadening effect on me--he enlarged my horizon.
If he had remained in London things might have gone differently with me.
One cannot tell. Among other things, I know his influence mightily
reduced the number and length of my letters to Weybridge. In my mind I
was always fighting John Crondall. It was my crowded millions of England
against his lonely, sun-browned men and women outside--his world
interests. The war in my heart was real, unceasing. And then there was
pretty Sylvia and her little soul, and her meditations, and her daily
miracles. The pin-point, bright as it was, became too tiny for me to
concentrate upon it, when contrasted with these other tumultuous
concerns.

Then came a crowded, confused week, in which I saw John Crondall depart
by the South African boat-train from Waterloo. The first lieutenant of
his dead leader out there had cabled for Crondall to come and hold his
broad shoulders against the side of some political dam. My eyes pricked
when John Crondall wrung my hand.

"You're all right, sonny," he said. "Don't you suppose I have the
smallest doubt about you."

I had never given him anything but sneers and opposition--I, a little
unknown scrub of a reporter; he a man who helped to direct policies and
shape States. Here he was rushing off to the other side of the earth at
his own expense, sacrificing his own interests and engagements at home,
in the service of an Idea, an abstract Tie, a Flag. My philosophy had
seemed spacio