e Spring in his heart and in his urgent blood.

And yet this was not that Rickman either.

"My dear Rickman, I don't understand. Are you talking about the world?
Or the flesh? Or the devils?"

"All of them, if you like. And you can throw in the sun and the moon
and the stars, too. There are moments, Jewdwine, when I understand
God. At any rate I know how he felt the very day before creation. His
world's all raw chaos to me, and I've got to make my world out of it."

"I'm afraid I cannot help you _there_."

As they parted he felt that perhaps he had failed to be sufficiently
sympathetic. "I'll do my best," said he, "to set you right with the
public."

Left alone, he stood staring earnestly at the chair where Rickman had
sat propping his chin in his hands. He seemed to be contemplating his
phantom; the phantom that had begun to haunt him.

What had he let himself in for?

CHAPTER XLIII

There was one man who was sure, perfectly sure; and that man was
Maddox. He had read Rickman's book before Jewdwine had seen it, and
while Jewdwine was still shaking his head over it in the office of the
_The Museion_, its chances were being eagerly discussed in the office
of _The Planet_. Maddox was disgusted with the publishers, Stables
with the price, Rankin with the illustrations.

"It's all very well," said Rankin; "but those borrowed plumes will
have to be paid for."

"Borrowed plumes with a vengeance," said Maddox. "Vaughan might just
as well have turned him out tarred and feathered as illustrated by
Mordaunt Crawley. Mind you, some of that tar will stick. It'll take
him all his time to get it off."

"Did you see," said Stables, "that Hanson bracketed him with Letheby
in this morning's _Courier_?"

"No, did he?" said Maddox; "I'm sorry for that. It's rough on little
Rickman."

"It's what you must expect," said Rankin, "if you're illustrated by
Crawley."

"It's what you must expect," said Stables, "if you go out of your way
to offend people who can help you. You know he refused an introduction
to Hanson the other day?"

"No!"

"Fact. And it was in his sublimest manner. He said he hadn't any use
for Hanson. Hanson couldn't help him till he'd helped himself. I don't
know whether any one was kind enough to tell that tale to Hanson."

"Hanson," said Maddox, "is too big a man to mind it if they did."

"Anyhow, he _hasn't_ helped him."

"No," said Rankin; "but that's another story. Hanson was dining with