A sudden fear shook Chilcote. “Loder!” he exclaimed again, “you wouldn't desert me? I can't go back to-night. I can't go back.”

Still Loder remained immovable.

Alarmed by his silence, Chilcote stepped closer to him.

“Loder! Loder, you won't desert me?” He caught hastily at his arm.

With a quick repulsion Loder shook him off; then almost as quickly he turned round.

“What fools we all are!” he said, abruptly. “We, only differ in degree. Come in, and let us change our clothes.”

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]

XIII

The best moments of a man's life are the moments when, strong in himself, he feels that the world lies before him. Gratified ambition may be the summer, but anticipation is the ardent spring-time of a man's career.

As Loder drove that night frown Fleet Street to Grosvenor Square he realized this—though scarcely with any degree of consciousness—for he was no accomplished self-analyst. But in a wave of feeling too vigorous to be denied he recognized his regained foothold—the step that lifted him at once from the pit to the pinnacle.