er enemy. The idle, academic,
superior person, whatever his gifts, is a serious hindrance to honest
work," said the popular idol.

"I shouldn't call him idle or superior," said Lewis quietly. "I have
seen hard workers, but I have never seen anything like Tommy. He is a
perfect mill-horse, wasting his fine talent on a dreary routine, merely
because he is conscientious and nobody can do it so well."

He always respected honesty, so he forbore to be irritated with this
assured speaker.

But Alice interfered to prevent jarring.

"I read your book, Mr. Haystoun. What a time you must have had! You
say that north of Bardur or some place like that there are two hundred
miles of utterly unknown land till you come to Russian territory. I
should have thought that land important. Why doesn't some one penetrate
it?

"Well, for various causes. It is very high land and the climate is not
mild. Also, there are abundant savage tribes with a particularly
effective crooked kind of knife. And, finally, our Government
discourages British enterprise there, and Russia would do the same as
soon as she found out."

"But what a chance for an adventurer!" said Alice, with a face aglow.

Lewis looked up at the slim figure in the chair above him, and caught
the gleam of dark eyes.

"Well, some day, Miss Wishart--who knows?" he said slowly and
carelessly.

But three people looked at him, Bertha, his aunt, and Mr. Stocks, and
three people saw the same thing. His face had closed up like a steel
trap. It was no longer the kindly, humorous face of the sportsman and
good fellow, but the keen, resolute face of the fighter, the schemer,
the man of daring. The lines about his chin and brow seemed to tighten
and strengthen and steel, while the grey eyes had for a moment a glint
of fire.

Three people never forgot that face. It was a pity that the lady at his
side was prevented from seeing it by her position, for otherwise life
might have gone differently with both. But the things which we call
chance are in the power of the Fateful Goddesses who reserve their right
to juggle with poor humanity.

Alice only heard the words, but they pleased her. Mr. Stocks fell
farther into the background of disfavour. She had imagination and fire
as well as common sense. It was the purple and fine gold which first
caught her fancy, though on reflection she might decide for the
hodden-grey. So she was very gracious to the young adventurer. And
Arthur's brows g