used to
being challenged and he won't be squeamish. You will have the whole of
his Press against you, and every other journalistic and political
influence that he possesses. He's getting a hold upon the working
classes. The _Sunday Post_ has an enormous sale in the manufacturing
towns; and he's talking of starting another. Are you strong enough to
fight him?"

She very much wanted to look at him, but she would not. It seemed to her
quite a time before he replied.

"Yes," he answered, "I'm strong enough to fight him. Shall rather enjoy
doing it. And it's time that somebody did. Whether I'm strong enough to
win has got to be seen."

She turned and looked at him then. She wondered why she had ever thought
him ugly.

"You can face it," she said: "the possibility of all your life's work
being wasted?"

"It won't be wasted," he answered. "The land is there. I've seen it
from afar and it's a good land, a land where no man shall go hungry. If
not I, another shall lead the people into it. I shall have prepared the
way."

She liked him for that touch of exaggeration. She was so tired of the
men who make out all things little, including themselves and their own
work. After all, was it exaggeration? Might he not have been chosen to
lead the people out of bondage to a land where there should be no more
fear.

"You're not angry with me?" he asked. "I haven't been rude, have I?"

"Abominably rude," she answered, "you've defied my warnings, and treated
my embassy with contempt." She turned to him and their eyes met. "I
should have despised you, if you hadn't," she added.

There was a note of exultation in her voice; and, as if in answer,
something leapt into his eyes that seemed to claim her. Perhaps it was
well that just then the bell rang for a division; and the moment passed.

He rose and held out his hand. "We will fight him," he said. "And you
can tell him this, if he asks, that I'm going straight for him.
Parliament may as well close down if a few men between them are to be
allowed to own the entire Press of the country, and stifle every voice
that does not shout their bidding. We haven't dethroned kings to put up
a newspaper Boss. He shall have all the fighting he wants."

They met more often from that day, for Joan was frankly using her two
columns in the _Sunday Post_ to propagate his aims. Carleton, to her
surprise, made no objection. Nor did he seek to learn the result of his
ultimatu