se solid
advantages a subtler satisfaction would be his. Jewdwine, corruptible
or incorruptible, had not endeared himself to other editors, and even
the sober Mackinnon was unable to resist the temptation of annexing
the great man's great man. But the dome-like head, impenetrable in
this, betrayed none of the thoughts that were going on inside it, and
in the bargaining that followed it was concealed from Rickman that his
connection with _Metropolis_ had in any way increased his market
value. He made the best terms he could; and the end of the interview
found him retained on Mackinnon's staff as leader, writer and dramatic
critic at a salary of two pounds ten a week. Mackinnon had offered two
pounds, Rickman had held out for three, and they split the difference.
As the poet left the room Mackinnon turned to his desk with a smile of
satisfaction that seemed to illuminate the dome. He had effected a
considerable saving by that little transaction.

And for the poet it did not prove so bad a bargain after all. He had
now a more ample leisure; and for the first time in his journalistic
career he knew what it was to be left mercifully, beneficently alone.
He had cut himself off from all his friends; and though at times his
heart suffered, his genius profited by the isolation. It was not until
he had escaped from Jewdwine that he realized what that special
deliverance meant for him. He could not well have encountered a more
subtle and dangerous influence than that of the author of the
_Prolegomena to AEsthetics_. Jewdwine had been hostile to his genius
from the beginning, though he had cared for it, too, in his imperious
way. He would have tamed the young, ungovernably ardent thing and
wedded it to his own beautiful and passionless idea; an achievement
which would have reflected some glory on Jewdwine as the matchmaker.
But he had left off caring when he found that he had less to gain from
Rickman's genius than from his talent, and had turned his attention to
the protection and encouragement of the more profitable power. As that
talent ran riot in the columns of _Metropolis_ Rickman himself was
unaware how relentlessly it drew on the vitality that sustained his
genius. It was Jewdwine's excuse that the vitality seemed
inexhaustible.

Jewdwine, as he had once said, dreaded the divine fire. He would
ultimately have subdued the flame by a persistent demand for
brilliance of another kind. Even Maddox (who adored his Rickman) had