never be
disturbed again.'"--When Crondall quoted his dead chief, the man whose
personality had dominated British South Africa, one felt he had said his
utmost.--"The principal thing that takes her to London now, I believe,
is detail connected with a special series she has been engaged upon for
_The Times_; fine stuff, from what I have seen of it. It is marvellous
the grip this one little bit of a girl has of South African affairs."

"Yes," I thought, now the fact was mentioned, "I suppose she is small."

"I hope the articles will be well read, for there's a heap of the vitals
of South Africa in them; and even if they are to cut us adrift
altogether, it's as well 'The Destroyers' should know a little about us,
and the country. Constance Grey's name and introductions will take her
anywhere in London, or I would have asked your help in that way."

I thought of Clement Blaine's friends, my own Fleet Street circle, and
shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

"As it is, the boot may be rather on the other leg, and she may be of
some service to you. But in any case, I want you to know each other,
because you are a good chap, and will interest her, I know; and because
she is of the bigger Britain and will interest you. Things political
are, of course, looking pretty blue for us all, and your particular
friends--I rather hope perhaps they're not so much your friends by
now--are certainly doing their level best to cut all moorings. But one
must keep pegging away. The more cutting for them, the more splicing for
us. But I do wish we could blindfold Europe until these 'Destroyers' had
got enough rope, and satisfactorily hanged themselves; for if they go
much farther, their hanging will come too late to save the situation.
Well, salue!"

I allowed my eyes to linger over the tail-end of the letter, while I
thought. I was sensible of a very real embarrassment. There seemed a
kind of treachery to John Crondall, a kind of unfairness to Miss Grey,
in my receiving her there at all. By this time one had no illusions left
regarding Clement Blaine and his circle, nor about _The Mass_. I knew
that, at heart, I was ashamed, and with good reason, of my connection
with both. Still, there I was; it was my living; and--I suppose my eyes
must have wandered from the letter. At all events, evidently seeing that
I had finished reading it, my visitor spoke.

"I had an introduction to the editor of the _Daily Gazette_, so I took
advantage of being t