nceforth he was a notable figure. Had anything
just like this ever occurred in England? I had never heard of it. I
should certainly write my grandmama of this event.

CHAPTER XIII

Russell Lamborn left the courthouse with Reverdy and me. He lingered at
the gate as if he wished an invitation to go into Reverdy's house; but
Reverdy did not invite him. He would have asked Douglas to come in for
the remainder of the evening, such as it was, except for Sarah's
condition.

Douglas had quite carried Reverdy away. And yet there lurked in him
something that was not intellectually convinced and morally satisfied. I
felt a little the same way. I did not know how to describe my state of
mind. With Douglas' vision of the country, his hopes for it, the part he
wished to play, I felt my English blood stir. But was there enough moral
depth to him? Did he reckon enough with the forces which made for
culture, enlightenment? Was he really high-minded? Did he not have the
gesture and the touch of the magician, the abandonment of the
indifferent demigod--indifferent to the higher and the deeper currents
of man's life? I tried to formulate some of these nebulous ideas to
Reverdy, but found myself running into denials, facts of contradiction
in Douglas' attitude and thinking. Reverdy was equally unable to state
the case against Douglas, which he felt a keener critic of thought would
easily do. Meanwhile young Lamborn stood with us while we fumbled these
doubtful things. He seemed reluctant to leave. I wondered in a vague way
what kept him from going. What did he want?

And when Douglas did come to see me, which was within a few days of the
night of the debate, Lamborn came with him. It was in the afternoon and
they were on their way to a country dance. I could not help but observe
that Lamborn had been drinking. What a strange taste--this whisky
drinking! We did it in England, to be sure. But here it was done
everywhere and at all hours and in all degrees of immoderation and
vulgarity. Lamborn, however, was not unduly under the influence of
drink; he was rather laughing and genial and humorously familiar.
Douglas had doubtless taken as much as Lamborn, but he was quite equal
to resisting its relaxing effects.

Douglas and I sat under a tree by the brook. The buds were coming out.
There was the balmy warmth of spring in the air. I had a chance now to
revise my first impressions of him. His charm could not be denied. His
frankness