with an infinite appreciation of everything, and
yet you have not the humour to stand aside and laugh at yourself."

"I am a coward, as I have told you," said the other dourly.

"No, you are not. But you can't bring yourself down to the world of
compromises, which is the world of action. You have lost the practical
touch. You muddled your fight with Stocks because you couldn't get out
of touch with your own little world in practice, however you might
manage it in theory. You can't be single-hearted. Twenty impulses are
always pulling different ways with you, and the result is that you
become an unhappy, self-conscious waverer."

Lewis was staring into the fire, and the older man leaned forward and
put his hand very tenderly on his shoulder.

"I don't want to speak about the thing which gives you most pain, old
chap; but I think you have spoiled your chances in the same way in
another matter-the most important matter a man can have to do with,
though it ill becomes a cynical bachelor like myself to say it."

"I know," said Lewis dismally.

"You see it is the Nemesis of your race which has overtaken you. The
rich, strong blood of you Haystouns must be given room or it sours into
moodiness. It is either a spoon or a spoiled horn with you. You are
capable of the big virtues, and just because of it you are
extraordinarily apt to go to the devil. Not the ordinary devil, of
course, but to a very effective substitute. You want to be braced and
pulled together. A war might do it, if you were a soldier. A religious
enthusiasm would do it, if that were possible for you. As it is, I have
something else, which I came up to propose to you."

Lewis faced round in an attitude of polite attention. But his eyes had
no interest in them.

"You know Bardur and the country about there pretty well?"

Lewis nodded.

"Also I once talked to you about a man called Marka. Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course I do. The man who went north from Bardur the week
before I turned up there?"

"Well, there's trouble brewing thereabouts. You know the Taghati
country up beyond the Russian line. Things are in a ferment there,
great military preparations and all the rest of it, and the reason, they
say, is that the hill-tribes in the intervening No-man's-land are at
their old games. Things look very ugly abroad just now, and we can't
afford to neglect anything when a crisis may be at the door. So we want
a man to go out there and find out the truth