my Government my secret. They thought it good but could not help me. They were afraid that the League would come to learn they were supporting it. They'll help me in other ways—innocent ways. If this scheme goes through they will put the full resources of the State at my disposal."
Mr. White rose, groped for his hat and cleared his throat.
"Dr.—ah—van Heerden, you may be sure that I shall—ah—respect your confidence. With your very natural indignation I am in complete sympathy.
"But let us forget, ah—that you have spoken at all about the scheme in any detail especially in so far as to its legality or otherwise. Let us forget, sir"—Mr. White thrust his hand into the bosom of his coat, an attitude he associated with the subtle rhetoric of statesmanship. "Let us forget all, save this, that you invite me to subscribe £40,000 to a syndicate for—ah—let us say model dwellings for the working classes, and that I am willing to subscribe, and in proof of my willingness will send you by the night's post a cheque for that amount. Good night, doctor."
He shook hands, pulled his hat down upon his head, opened the door and ran into the arms of a man whose hand was at that moment raised to press the electric bell-push by the side of the door.
Both started back.
"Excuse me," mumbled Mr. White, and hurried down the stairs.
Dr. van Heerden glared at the visitor, white with rage.
"Come in, you fool!" he hissed, and half-dragged the man into his room, "what made you leave Scotland?"
"Scotland I hate!" said the visitor huskily. "Sticking a fellow away in the wilds of the beastly mountains, eh? That's not playing the game, my cheery sportsman."
"When did you arrive?" asked van Heerden quickly.
"Seven p.m. Travelled third class! Me! Is it not the most absurd position for a man of my parts—third class, with foul and common people—I'd like to rip them all up—I would, by heavens!"
The doctor surveyed the coarse, drink-bloated face,
