er still eyed him suspiciously, but did not resist.

"I haven't a sitting-room," he said, "and we can't talk here. We can
walk on a little, if you like."

"I'm a stranger. Is there a quiet spot anywhere about here?"

"If we jump on this omnibus that's coming, it'll take us to the
Suspension Bridge--Clifton, you know. Plenty of quiet spots about
there."

The suggestion was accepted. On the omnibus they conversed as any
casual acquaintances might have done. Glazzard occasionally inspected
his companion's features, which were not vulgar, yet not pleasing. The
young man had a habit of sucking in his cheeks, and of half closing his
eyes as if he suffered from weak sight; his limbs twitched now and
then, and he constantly fingered his throat.

"A fine view," remarked Glazzard, as they came near to the great
cliffs; "but the bridge spoils it, of course."

"Do you think so? Not to my mind. I always welcome the signs of
civilization."

Glazzard looked at him with curiosity, and the speaker threw back his
head in a self-conscious, conceited way.

"Picturesqueness is all very well," he added, "but it very often means
hardships to human beings. I don't ask whether a country looks
beautiful, but what it does for the inhabitants."

"Very right and proper," assented Glazzard, with a curl of the lip.

"I know very well," pursued the moralist, "that civilization doesn't
necessarily mean benefit to the class which ought to be considered
first. But that's another question. It _ought_ to benefit them, and
eventually it must."

"You lean towards Socialism?"

"Christian Socialism if you know what that signifies."

"I have an idea. A very improving doctrine, no doubt."

They dismounted, and began the ascent of the hillside by a path which
wound among trees. Not far from the summit they came to a bench which
afforded a good view.

"Suppose we stop here," Glazzard suggested. "It doesn't look as if we
should be disturbed."

"As you please."

"By-the-bye, you have abbreviated your name, I think?"

The other again looked uneasy and clicked with his tongue.

"You had better say what you want with me, Mr. Marks," he replied,
impatiently.

"My business is with Arthur James Northway. If you are he, I think I
can do you a service."

"Why should you do me a service?"

"From a motive I will explain if all else is satisfactory."

"How did you find out where I was?"

"By private means which are at my command." Glazzard adopt