er one of vital importance, and the higher
officers of the Government were content to leave it to him, confident of
his ability and pertinacity and glad enough to be relieved of such a
task.

Prescott, when he heard this, gazed thoughtfully at the cobwebbed
ceiling. There was yet no call for him to go to the front, and he would
stay to match his wits against those of the great Mr. Sefton; he had
been drawn unconsciously into a conflict--a conflict of which he was
perhaps unconscious--and every impulse in him told him to fight.

When he went to his supper that evening he found a very small package
wrapped in brown paper lying unopened beside his plate. He knew it in an
instant, and despite himself his face flooded with colour.

"It was left here for you an hour ago," said his mother, who in that
moment achieved a triumph permitted to few mothers, burying a mighty
curiosity under seeming indifference.

"Who left it, mother?" asked Prescott, involuntarily.

"I do not know," she replied. "There was a heavy knock upon the door
while I was busy, and when I went there after a moment's delay I found
this lying upon the sill, but the bringer was gone."

Prescott put the package in his pocket and ate his supper uneasily.

When he was alone in his room he drew the tiny parcel from his pocket
and took off the paper, disclosing two twenty-dollar gold pieces, which
he returned to his pocket with a sigh.

"At least I meant well," he said to himself.

A persistent nature feeds on opposition, and the failure of his first
attempt merely prepared Prescott for a second. The affair, too, began to
absorb his mind to such an extent that his friends noticed his lack of
interest in the society and amusements of Richmond. He had been well
received there, his own connections, his new friends, and above all his
pleasing personality, exercising a powerful influence; and, coming from
the rough fields of war, he had enjoyed his stay very keenly.

But he had a preoccupation now, and he was bent upon doing what he
wished to do. Talbot and the two editors rallied him upon his absence of
mind, and even Helen, despite her new interest in Wood, looked a little
surprised and perhaps a little aggrieved at his inattention; but none of
these things had any effect upon him. His mind was now thrown for the
time being into one channel, and he could not turn it into another if he
wished.

On the next morning after his failure he passed again near the l