ey
are ready to speak for us anywhere we like, and Winchester has a pal who
he says will work wonders as a kind of advance agent. I'm pretty sure of
Government help, too--or Opposition help; they'll be governing before
Christmas, you'll find. Now, we all meet here again the day after
to-morrow. We three will see each other to-morrow, I expect. I must
write a stack of letters before the midnight post."

"Well, can I lend a hand?" I asked.

"No, not to-night, Mr. Secretary Dick, thank you! But it's late. Will
you take Constance home? I'll get my fellow to whistle up a cab."

Ten minutes earlier I should have been chilled by his implied
guardianship of Constance; but now I had that within which warmed me
through and through: the most effectual kind of protection against
chill. So all was settled, and we left John Crondall to his letters.
And, driving out to South Kensington, we talked over our hopes,
Constance and I, as partners in one cause.

"This is the beginning of everything for me, Constance," I said, when we
parted in the hall below her flat.

"It is going to be the beginning of very much for a good many," she
said, as she gave me her hand.

"I wonder if you know how much--for me!"

"I think so. I am tremendously glad about it all."

But she did not know, could not know, just how much it meant to me.

"Good night, my patriotic Muse!" I said.

"Good night, Mr. Secretary Dick!"

And so we parted on the night of my return to London.

VI

PREPARATIONS

We were dreamers, dreaming greatly, in the man-stifled town;
We yearned beyond the sky-line where the strange roads go down.
Came the Whisper, came the Vision, came the Power, with the Need,
Till the Soul that is not man's soul was lent us to lead.

. . . . .

Follow after--follow after--for the harvest is sown:
By the bones about the wayside ye shall come to your own!

RUDYARD KIPLING.

Never before had I known days so full, so compact of effort and
achievement, as were those of the week following the conference in John
Crondall's rooms. I could well appreciate Winchester's statement when he
said that: "John Crondall is known through three Continents as a glutton
for work."

Our little circle represented Canada, South Africa, Australia, and the
Mother Country; and, while I admit that my old friend, George Stairs,
and his Canadian-born part