33 3 E 

 
 JOHN CHILCOTE 
 
 OR 
 
 THE MASQUERADERS 
 
 BY 
 
 KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON 
 
 j 
 
 Author of "The Gambler," "The Liar, or, The Circle," 
 
 "The Climax." 
 
 Reprinted From Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. 
 
 CHICAGO. 
 DONOHUE & OGILVIE.
 
 JOHN CHILCOTE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Two incidents widely different in character, yet bound 
 together by results, marked the night of January the 
 23rd. On that night the blackest fog within a four years' 
 memory fell upon certain portions of London; and also 
 on that night came the first announcement of the border 
 risings against the Persian Government in the province 
 of Khorasan the announcement that, speculated upon, 
 even smiled at, at the time assumed such significance in 
 the light of after-events. 
 
 At eight o'clock the news began to spread through 
 the House of Commons; but at nine men in the inner 
 lobbies were gossiping, not so much upon how far Rus- 
 sia, while ostensibly upholding the Shah, had pulled the 
 strings by which the insurgents danced, as upon the man- 
 ner in which " The St. George's Gazette " the Tory 
 evening newspaper had seized upon the incident and 
 practically shaken it in the faces of the Government. 
 
 More than once, Lakeley the owner and editor of 
 " The St. George's " had stepped out of the decorous 
 circle of tradition and taken a plunge into modern jour- 
 nalism ; but to-night he essayed deeper waters than before, 
 and under an almost sensational heading declared that 
 in this apparently innocent border rising we had less an 
 outcome of mere race antagonism than a first faint index 
 of a long-cherished Russian scheme, that was growing to 
 a gradual maturity under the " drift " policy of the pres- 
 ent British Government. 
 
 222' 
 
 XwAA*t
 
 2 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 The effect produced by this pronouncement, if strong, 
 was varied. Members of the Opposition saw, or thought 
 they saw, a reflection of it in the exaggerated unconcern 
 on the Ministerial benches; and the Government had an 
 uneasy sense that behind the newly kindled interest on the 
 other side of the House lay some mysterious scenting of 
 battle from afar off. But though these impressions ran 
 like electricity through the atmosphere, nothing tangible 
 marked their passage, and the ordinary business of the 
 House proceeded until half-past eleven, when an adjourn- 
 ment was moved. 
 
 The first man to hurry from his place was John Chil- 
 cote, member for East Wark. He walked out of the 
 House quickly, with the half-furtive quickness that 
 marks a self-absorbed man, and as he passed the police- 
 man standing stolidly under the arched doorway of the 
 big courtyard he swerved a little, as if startled out of his 
 thoughts. He realized his swerve almost before it was 
 accomplished, and pulled himself together with nervous 
 irritability. 
 
 " Foggy night, constable ! " he said with elaborate 
 carelessness. 
 
 " Foggy night, sir, and thickening up west," responded 
 the man. 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" Chilcote's answer was vague. The 
 constable's cheery voice jarred on him, and for the sec- 
 ond time he was conscious of a senseless irritation. 
 Without a further glance at the man he stepped out into 
 the courtyard and turned towards the main gate. 
 
 At the gateway two cab-lamps showed through the 
 mist of shifting fog like the eyes of a great cat, and 
 the familiar " Hansom, sir ? " came to him indistinctly. 
 
 He paused by force of custom and, stepping forward, 
 had almost touched the open door of the vehicle when a 
 new impulse caused him to draw back. 
 
 " No," he said hurriedly. " No; I'll walk." 
 
 The cabman muttered, lashed his horse, and with a 
 clatter of hoofs and harness wheeled away, while Chil- 
 cote, still with uncertain hastiness, crossed the road in 
 the direction of Whitehall,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 3 
 
 About the Abbey the fog had partially lifted, and in 
 the railed garden that faces the Houses of Parliament 
 the statues were visible in a spectral way. But Chil- 
 cote's glance was unstable and indifferent; he skirted 
 the railings heedlessly, and crossing the road with the 
 speed of long familiarity, gained Whitehall on the left- 
 hand side. 
 
 There, the fog had dropped, and to any one looking 
 upward towards Trafalgar Square it would have seemed 
 that the chain of lamps extended little farther than the 
 Horse Guards, and that beyond lay a void. 
 
 Unconscious of this capricious alternation between 
 darkness and light, Chilcote continued his course. To a 
 close observer the manner of his going had both interest 
 and suggestion, for though he walked on, apparently 
 self-engrossed, yet at every trivial touch or sound he 
 started, like a man whose nervous system is painfully 
 overstrung. 
 
 Maintaining his haste, he went deliberately forward, 
 oblivious of the fact that at each step the curtain of 
 darkness about him became closer, damper, more tangi- 
 ble; that each second the passers-by jostled each other 
 with greater frequency, while the scraps of conversation 
 that reached him became more dubious and indistinct. 
 Then abruptly, with a sudden realization of what had 
 happened, he stood quite still. Without anticipation or 
 preparation he had walked full into the thickness of the 
 fog a thickness so dense that, as by an enchanter's 
 wand, the shadowy figures of a moment before melted, 
 and the street lamps were sucked up into the night. 
 
 His first feeling was a sense of panic at the sudden 
 isolation, his second a thrill of nervous apprehension at 
 the oblivion that had allowed him to be so entrapped. 
 The second feeling out-weighed the first. He moved 
 forward, then paused again, uncertain of himself. Fi- 
 nally, with the consciousness that inaction was unbearable, 
 he moved on once more his eyes wide open, one hand 
 thrust out as a protection and guide. 
 
 The fog had closed in behind as heavily as in front, 
 shutting off all possibility of retreat; all about him in
 
 4 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 the darkness was a confusion of voices cheerful, uncer- 
 tain, alarmed, or angry ; now and then a sleeve brushed 
 his or a hand touched him tentatively. It was a strange 
 moment a moment of possibilities, to which the crunch- 
 ing wheels, the oaths and laughter from the blocked 
 traffic of the roadway, made a continuous accompani- 
 ment. 
 
 Keeping well to the left, he still beat on ; there was a 
 persistence in his movements that almost amounted to 
 fear a fear born of the solitude filled with innumerable 
 sounds. For a space he groped about him without result, 
 then his fingers touched the cold surface of a shuttered 
 shop-front, and a thrill of reassurance passed through 
 him. With renewed haste, and clinging to his landmark 
 as a blind man might, he started forward with a fresh 
 impetus. 
 
 For a dozen paces he moved rapidly and unevenly, 
 then the inevitable occurred. He collided with a man 
 coming in the opposite direction. 
 
 The shock was abrupt. Both men swore simultane- 
 ously, then both laughed. The whole thing was casual, 
 but Chilcote was in that state of mind when even the 
 commonplace becomes abnormal. The other man's excla- 
 mation, the other man's laugh, struck on his nerves ; 
 coming out of the darkness, they sounded like an echo of 
 his own. 
 
 Yet nine out of every ten men in London, given the 
 same social position and the same education, might rea- 
 sonably be expected to express annoyance or amusement 
 in the same manner, possibly in the same tone of voice ; 
 and Chilcote remembered this almost at the moment of 
 his nervous jar. 
 
 " Beastly fog ! " he said aloud. " I'm trying to get to 
 Grosvenor Square, but the chances seem rather small." 
 
 The other laughed again, and again the laugh upset 
 Chilcote. He wondered uncomfortably if he was becom- 
 ing a prey to illusions. But the stranger spoke before 
 the question had solved itself. 
 
 " I'm afraid they are small," he said. " It would almost
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 5 
 
 be hard to find one's way to the devil on a night like 
 this." 
 
 Chilcote made a murmur of amusement and drew back 
 against the shop-front. 
 
 " Yes. We can see now where the blind man scores 
 in the matter of salvation," he said. " This is almost a 
 repetition of the fog of six years ago. Were you out 
 in that ? " It was a habit of his to jump from one sen- 
 tence to another a habit that had grown upon him of 
 late. 
 
 " No." The stranger had also groped his way towards 
 the shop. " No ; I was out of England six years ago." 
 
 " You were lucky." Chilcote turned up the collar of 
 his coat. " That was an atrocious fog as black as this 
 one but more general. I remember it well. It was the 
 night Lexington made his great sugar speech. Some of 
 us were found on Lambeth Bridge at three in the morn- 
 ing, having left the House at twelve." 
 
 Chilcote seldom indulged in reminiscences, but this 
 conversation with an unseen companion was more like a 
 soliloquy than a dialogue. He was almost surprised 
 into an exclamation when the other caught up his words. 
 
 "Ah! The sugar speech!" he said. "Odd that I 
 should have been looking it up only yesterday. What 
 a magnificent dressing up of a dry subject it was. What 
 a career Lexington promised in those days." 
 
 Chilcote changed his position. 
 
 " You are interested in the muddle down at West- 
 minster ? " he asked sarcastically. 
 
 " I ? " It was the turn of the other to draw back. 
 
 " Oh, I read my newspaper with the other five million, 
 that is all. I am an outsider." His voice sounded curt ; 
 the warmth that admiration had brought into it was sud- 
 denly frozen. 
 
 " An outsider ! " Chilcote repeated. " What an envi- 
 able word ! " 
 
 " Possibly to those who are well inside the ring. 
 But let us go back to Lexington. What a pinnacle the 
 man reached and what a drop he had ! It has always 
 seemed to me an extraordinarv instance of the human
 
 6 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 leaven running through us all." He paused thought- 
 fully; then again his voice sounded through the dark- 
 ness. " What was the real cause of his collapse ? " he 
 asked suddenly. " Was it drugs or drink ? I have often 
 wished to get at the truth." 
 
 Again Chilcote changed his attitude. 
 
 " Is truth ever worth getting at ? " he asked irrele- 
 vantly. 
 
 " In the case of a public man yes. He exchanges his 
 privacy for the interest of the masses. If he gives the 
 masses the details of his success, why not the details 
 of his failure ? Was it drink that sucked him under ? " 
 
 " No." Chilcote's response came after a pause. 
 
 "Drugs?" 
 
 Again Chilcote hesitated. And at the moment of his 
 hesitation a woman brushed past him, laughing boister- 
 ously. The sound jarred him. 
 
 " Was it drugs ? " the stranger went on easily. " I 
 have always had a theory that it was." 
 
 " Yes. It was morphia." The answer came before 
 Chilcote had realized it. The woman's laugh and the 
 stranger's quiet persistence had contrived to draw it from 
 him. Instantly he had spoken he looked about him 
 quickly like one who has for a moment forgotten a nec- 
 essary vigilance. 
 
 There was silence while the other thought over the 
 information. Then he spoke again, with a new touch 
 of vehemence. 
 
 " So I imagined," he said, " though, on my soul, I 
 scarcely credited it. To have gained so much and to 
 have thrown it away for a common vice ! " He made 
 an exclamation of disgust. 
 
 Chilcote gave an unsteady laugh. " You judge hard- 
 ly," he said. 
 
 The other repeated his sound of contempt. " Justly 
 so. No man has the right to squander what another 
 would give his soul for. It lessens the general respect 
 for power." 
 
 " You are a believer in power?" Again Chilcote's 
 tone was sarcastic, but the sarcasm sounded thin,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 7 
 
 " Yes. All power is the outcome of individuality 
 either past or present. I find no sentiment for the man 
 who plays with it." 
 
 The quiet contempt of the words stung Chilcote. 
 
 " Do you imagine that Lexington made no fight ? " 
 he asked impulsively. " Can't you picture the man's 
 struggle, while that which had been slave gradually be- 
 came master ? " He stopped to take breath, and in the 
 cold pause that followed, it seemed to him that the 
 other made a murmur of incredulity. 
 
 "Perhaps you think of morphia as a pleasure?" he 
 added. " Think of it instead as a tyrant that tortures 
 the mind if held to, and the body if cast off." Urged 
 by the darkness and by the silence of his companion, the 
 rein of his speech had loosened. In that moment he was 
 not Chilcote the member for East Wark, whose moods 
 and silences were proverbial, but Chilcote the man, whose 
 mind craved the relief of speech. 
 
 "You talk as the we. Id talks out of ignorance and 
 self-righteousness," he went on. " Before you condemn 
 Lexington, you should put yourself in his place " 
 
 "As you do?" The other laughed. 
 
 Unsuspecting and inoffensive as the laugh was, it 
 startled Chilcote. With a sudden alarm he pulled him- 
 self up. 
 
 " I ? " He tried to echo the laugh, but the attempt 
 
 fell flat. " Oh, I merely speak from from De Quincey. 
 But I believe this fog is shifting I really believe it is 
 shifting. Can you oblige me with a light? I had almost 
 forgotten that a man may smoke even though he has 
 been deprived of sight." He spoke fast and disjointedly. 
 He was overwhelmed by the idea that he had let himself 
 go, and possessed by the wish to obliterate the conse- 
 quences. As he talked he fumbled for his cigarette case. 
 His head was bent as he searched for it nervously. With- 
 out looking up, he was conscious that the cloud of fog 
 that held him prisoner was lifting, rolling away, closing 
 back again, preparatory to final disappearance. Having 
 found the case, he put a cigarette between his lips and
 
 8 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 raised his head at the moment that the stranger drew a 
 match across his box. 
 
 For a second each stared blankly at the other's face, 
 suddenly made visible by the lifting of the fog. The 
 match in the stranger's hand burned down till it scorched 
 his fingers, and, feeling the pain, he laughed and let it 
 drop. 
 
 " Of all odd things " he said. Then he broke off. 
 
 The circumstance was too novel for ordinary remark. 
 
 By one of those rare occurrences those chances that 
 seem too wild for real life and yet belong to no other 
 sphere the two faces so strangely hidden and so strange- 
 ly revealed were identical, feature for feature. It seemed 
 to each man that he looked, not at the face of another, 
 but at his own face reflected in a flawless looking- 
 glass. 
 
 Of the two, the stranger was the first to regain self- 
 possession. Seeing Chilcote's bewilderment, he came to 
 his rescue with brusque tactfulness. 
 
 " The position is decidedly odd," he said. " But, after 
 all, why should we be so surprised ? Nature can't be eter- 
 nally original ; she must dry up sometimes, and when she 
 gets a good model why shouldn't she use it twice ? " He 
 drew back, surveying Chilcote whimsically. " But, par- 
 don me, you are still waiting for the light ! " 
 
 Chilcote held the cigarette between his lips. The paper 
 had become dry, and he moistened it as he leant towards 
 his companion. 
 
 " Don't mind me," he said ; " I'm rather rather un- 
 strung to-night, and this thing gave me a jar. To be 
 candid, my imagination took head in the fog. I got to 
 fancy I was talking to myself " 
 
 " And pulled up to find the fancy real ? " The stranger 
 smiled. 
 
 "Yes; something like that." 
 
 Both were silent for a moment. Chilcote pulled hard 
 at his cigarette, then remembering his obligation, he 
 turned quickly to the other. 
 
 " Won't you smoke ? " he asked. 
 
 The stranger accepted a cigarette from the case held
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 9 
 
 out to him; and as he did so, his extraordinary likeness 
 to himself struck Chilcote with added force. Involun- 
 tarily he put out his hand and touched his arm. 
 
 " It's my nerves ! " he said again in explanation. 
 " They make me want to feel that you are substantial. 
 Nerves play such beastly tricks ! " He laughed awk- 
 wardly. 
 
 The other glanced up. His expression on the moment 
 was slightly surprised, slightly contemptuous, but he 
 changed it instantly to one of conventional interest. " I 
 am afraid I am not an authority on nerves," he said. 
 
 But Chilcote was preoccupied. His thoughts had 
 turned into another channel. 
 
 " How old are you ? " he asked suddenly. A curiosity 
 that ran into odd and irrelevant channels was charac- 
 teristic of him. 
 
 The other did not answer immediately. " My age ? " 
 he said at last slowly. " Oh, I believe I shall be thirty- 
 six to-morrow to be quite accurate." 
 
 Chilcote lifted his head quickly. 
 
 " Why do you use that tone ? " he asked. " I am six 
 months older than you, and I only wish it was six years. 
 Six years nearer oblivion " 
 
 Again a slight expression of contempt crossed the 
 other's eyes. " Oblivion ? " he said. " Where are your 
 ambitions ? " 
 
 " They don't exist." 
 
 " Don't exist ? Yet you voice your country ? I con- 
 cluded that much in the fog." 
 
 Chilcote laughed sarcastically. 
 
 " When one has voiced one's country for six years 
 one gets hoarse it's a natural consequence." 
 
 The other smiled. " Ah, discontent ? " he said. " The 
 modern canker! But I must be getting under way. 
 Good night ! Shall we shake hands to prove that we 
 are genuinely material ? " 
 
 Chilcote had been standing unusually still, following 
 the stranger's words caught by his self-reliance and im- 
 pressed by his personality. Now, as he ceased to speak,
 
 10 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 he moved quickly forward, impelled by a nervous curi- 
 osity. 
 
 " Why should we just hail each other and pass like 
 the proverbial ships?" he said impulsively. "If nature 
 was careless enough to let the reproduction meet the 
 original, she must abide the consequences." 
 
 The other laughed, but his laugh was short. " Oh, 
 I don't know. Our roads lie differently. You would 
 
 get nothing out of me, and I " He stopped, and 
 
 again laughed shortly. "No," he said; "I'd be con- 
 tent to pass, if I were you. The unsuccessful man is 
 seldom a profitable study. Shall we say good night?" 
 
 He took Chilcote's hand for an instant; then cross- 
 ing the footpath he passed into the roadway towards 
 the Strand. 
 
 It was done in a moment ; but with his going a sense 
 of loss fell upon Chilcote. He stood for a space, newly 
 conscious of the unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar voices 
 in the stream of passers-by; then, suddenly mastered 
 by an impulse, he wheeled rapidly, and darted after the 
 tall, lean figure so ridiculously like his own. 
 
 Half-way across Trafalgar Square he overtook the 
 stranger. He had paused on one of the small stone 
 islands that break the current of traffic, and was wait- 
 ing for an opportunity to cross the street. In the glare 
 of light from the lamp above his head, Chilcote saw 
 for the first time that, under a remarkable neatness of 
 appearance, his clothes were well worn almost shabby. 
 The discovery struck him with a feeling stronger than 
 surprise. The idea of poverty seemed incongruous in 
 connection with the reliance, the reserve, the person- 
 ality of the man. With a certain embarrassed haste 
 he stepped forward and touched his arm. 
 
 " Look here," he said, as the other turned quietly. 
 " I have followed you to exchange cards. It can't in- 
 jure either of us, and I I have a wish to know my 
 other self." He laughed nervously as he drew out his 
 card-case. 
 
 The stranger watched him in silence. There was 
 the same faint contempt, but also there was a reluctant
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 11 
 
 interest in his glance, as it passed from the fingers 
 fumbling with the case to the pale face with set jaw, 
 straight mouth, and level eyebrows drawn low over 
 the gray eyes. When at last the card was held out to 
 him, he took it without remark, and slipped it into his 
 pocket. 
 
 Chilcote looked at him eagerly. " Now the ex- 
 change ? " he said. 
 
 For a second the stranger did not respond. Then 
 almost unexpectedly he smiled. 
 
 " After all, if it amuses you " he said. And 
 
 searching in his waistcoat pocket, he drew out the re- 
 quired card. 
 
 " It will leave you quite unenlightened," he added. 
 " The name of a failure never spells anything." With 
 another smile, partly amused, partly ironical, he stepped 
 from the little island and disappeared into the throng 
 of traffic. 
 
 Chilcote stood for an instant gazing at the point 
 where he had vanished ; then turning to the lamp, he 
 lifted the card and read the name it bore : " Mr. John 
 Loder, 13 Clifford's Inn." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The morning following the night of fog Chilcote 
 woke at nine. He woke at the moment that his man 
 Allsopp tiptoed across his room and laid the salver with 
 his early cup of tea on the table beside his bed. 
 
 For several seconds he lay with his eyes shut; the 
 effort of opening them on a fresh day the intimate 
 certainty of what he would see when he did open them 
 seemed to weight his lids. The heavy, half-closed 
 curtains, the blinds severely drawn, the great room with 
 its splendid furniture, its sober coloring, its scent of 
 damp London winter; above all Allsopp silent, respect- 
 ful, and respectable were things to dread. 
 
 A full minute passed while he still feigned sleep. He
 
 12 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 heard Allsopp stir discreetly, then the inevitable infor- 
 mation broke the silence. 
 
 " Nine o'clock, sir ! " 
 
 He opened his eyes, murmured something, and let his 
 eyelids close again. 
 
 The man moved to the window, quietly pulled back 
 the curtains and half drew the blind. 
 
 "Better night, sir, I hope?" he ventured softly. 
 
 Chilcote had drawn the bedclothes over his face to 
 screen himself from the daylight, murky though it was. 
 
 " Yes," he responded. " Those beastly nightmares 
 didn't trouble me for once." He shivered a little as at 
 some recollection. " But don't talk don't remind me 
 of them. I hate a man who has no originality." He 
 spoke sharply. At times he showed an almost childish 
 irritation over trivial things. 
 
 Allsopp took the remark in silence. Crossing the 
 wide room, he began to lay out his master's clothes. 
 The action affected ChUcote to fresh annoyance. 
 
 "Confound it!" he said, "I'm sick of that routine. 
 I can see you laying out my winding-sheet on the day 
 of my burial. Leave those things. Come back in half 
 an hour." 
 
 Allsopp allowed himself one glance at his master's 
 figure huddled in the great bed, then laying aside the 
 coat that he was holding, he moved to the door. With 
 his fingers on the handle he paused. 
 
 " Will you breakfast in your own room, sir or down- 
 stairs ? " 
 
 Chilcote drew the clothes more tightly around his 
 shoulders. " Oh, anywhere nowhere," he said. " I 
 don't care." 
 
 Allsopp withdrew softly. 
 
 Left to himself, Chilcote sat up in bed and lifted the 
 salver to his knees. The sudden movement jarred him 
 physically: he drew a handkerchief from under the pil- 
 low and wiped his forehead ; then he held his hand to 
 the light and studied it. The hand looked sallow and 
 unsteady. With a nervous gesture he thrust the salver 
 back upon the table and slid out of bed.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 13 
 
 Moving" hastily across the room, he stopped before 
 one of the tall wardrobes and swung the door open; 
 after a furtive glance round the room, he thrust his 
 hand into the recesses of a shelf. The thing he sought 
 was evidently not hard to find, for almost at once he 
 withdrew his hand and moved from the wardrobe to a 
 table beside the fireplace, carrying a small tube filled 
 with white tabloids. 
 
 On the table was a decanter, a syphon, and a water 
 jug. Mixing some whisky, he uncorked the tube he 
 was carrying, glanced apprehensively towards the door, 
 and with a very nervous hand dropped the necessary 
 number of tabloids into the glass. 
 
 While the tabloids were dissolving, he stood with his 
 hand on the table and his eyes fixed on the floor, evi- 
 dently restraining his impatience. Instantly they had 
 disappeared he seized the glass and drained it at a 
 draught. A moment later he replaced the tube in the 
 wardrobe and, shivering slightly in the raw air, slipped 
 back into bed. 
 
 When Allsopp returned he was sitting up supported 
 by his piHows, a cigarette between his lips, the teacup 
 standing empty on the salver. The nervous irritability 
 had gone from his manner. He no longer moved jerk- 
 ily, his eyes looked brighter, his pale skin more healthy. 
 
 " Ah, Allsopp," he said, " there are some moments 
 in life after all. It isn't all blank wall." 
 
 " I ordered breakfast in the small morning-room, sir," 
 said Allsopp, without a change of expression. 
 
 Chilcote breakfasted at ten. His appetite, always 
 fickle, was particularly uncertain in the early hours. He 
 helped himself to some fish, but sent away his plate 
 untouched; then, having drunk two cups of tea, he 
 pushed back his chair, lighted a fresh cigarette, and 
 shook out the morning's newspaper. 
 
 Twice he shook it out and twice turned it, but the 
 reluctance to fix his mind upon it made him. dally. The 
 effect of the morphia tabloids was still apparent in the
 
 14 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 greater steadiness of his hand and eye the regained 
 quiet of his susceptibilities but the respite was tem- 
 porary and lethargic. The early days the days of six 
 years ago, when these tabloids had meant an even sweep 
 of thought, lucidity of brain, a balance of judgment in 
 thought and effort were days of the past. As he had 
 said of Lexington and his vice, the slave had become 
 master. 
 
 As he folded the paper in a last attempt at interest, 
 the door opened, and his secretary came a step or two 
 into the room. 
 
 " Good morning, sir," he said. " Forgive me for being 
 so untimely." 
 
 He was a fresh-mannered, bright-eyed boy of twenty- 
 three. His breezy alertness, his deference as to a man 
 who had attained what he aspired to amused and de- 
 pressed Chilcote by turns. 
 
 " Good morning, Blessington," he said. " What is it 
 now ? " He sighed from, habit, and putting up his 
 hand, warded off a ray of sun that had forced itself 
 through the misty atmosphere as if by mistake. 
 
 The boy smiled. " It's that business of the Wark 
 timber contract, sir," he said. " You promised you'd 
 look into it to-day; you know you've shelved it for a 
 week already, and Craig, Burnage, are rather clamor- 
 ing for an answer." He moved forward and laid the 
 papers he was carrying on the table beside Chilcote. 
 " I'm sorry to be such a nuisance," he added ; " I hope 
 your nerves aren't worrying you to-day?" 
 
 Chilcote was toying with the papers. At the word 
 nerves he glanced up suspiciously. But Blessington's 
 ingenuous face satisfied him. 
 
 " No," he said. " I settled my nerves last night with 
 with a bromide. I knew that fog would upset me 
 unless I took precautions." 
 
 " I'm glad of that, sir though I'd avoid bromides. 
 Bad habit to set up. But this Wark business I'd like 
 to get it under way, if you have no objection." 
 
 Chilcote passed his fingers over the papers. " Were 
 you out in that fog last night, Blessington ? "
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 15 
 
 " No, sir. I supped with some people at the Savoy, 
 and we just missed it. It was very partial, I believe." 
 
 " So I believe." 
 
 Blessington put his hand to his neat tie and pulled 
 it. He was extremely polite, but he had an inordinate 
 sense of duty. 
 
 " Forgive me, sir," he said ; " but about that contract 
 I know I'm a frightful bore." 
 
 " Oh, the contract ! " Chilcote looked about him ab- 
 sently. " By the way, did you see anything of my wife 
 yesterday? What did she do last night?" 
 
 " Mrs Chilcote gave me some tea yesterday after- 
 noon. She told me she was dining at Lady Sabinet's, 
 and looking in at one or two other places later on." 
 He eyed his papers and Chilcote's listless hand. 
 
 Chilcote smiled satirically. " Eve is very true to 
 society," he said. " I couldn't dine at the Sabinets' if 
 it was to make me Premier. They have a butler who 
 is an institution a sort of heirloom in the family. He 
 is fat, and breathes audibly. Last time I lunched there 
 he haunted me for a whole night." 
 
 Blessington laughed gaily. " Mrs. Chilcote doesn't 
 see ghosts, sir," he said ; " but if I may suggest " 
 
 Chilcote tapped his fingers on the table. 
 
 " No. Eve doesn't see ghosts. We rather miss sym- 
 pathy there." 
 
 Blessington governed his impatience. He stood still 
 for some seconds, then glanced down at his pointed 
 boots. 
 
 "If you will be lenient to my persistency, sir, I would 
 like to remind you " 
 
 Chilcote lifted his head with a flash of irritability. 
 
 " Confound it, Blessington ! " he exclaimed, " am I 
 never to be left in peace? Am I never to sit down to 
 a meal without having work thrust upon me? Work 
 work perpetually work ! I have heard no other word 
 
 in the last six years. I declare there are times " 
 
 he rose suddenly from his seat and turned to the win- 
 dow. " There are times when I feel that for sixpence 
 I'd chuck it all the whole beastly round "
 
 16 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Startled by his vehemence, Blessington wheeled to- 
 wards him. 
 
 " Not your political career, sir." 
 
 There was a moment in which Chilcote hesitated, a 
 moment in which the desire that had filled his mind for 
 months rose to his lips and hung there ; then the ques- 
 tion, the incredulity in Blessington's face, chilled it, 
 and it fell back into silence. 
 
 " I I didn't say that," he murmured. " You young 
 men jump to conclusions, Blessington." 
 
 " Forgive me, sir. I never meant to imply retirement. 
 Why, Rickshaw, Vale, Cressham, and the whole Wark 
 crowd would be about your ears like flies if such a 
 thing were even breathed now more than ever, since 
 these Persian rumors have begun to spread. By the 
 way, is there anything real in this Khorasan business? 
 ' The St. George's ' came out rather strong last night." 
 
 Chilcote had moved back to the table. His face was 
 pale from his outburst and his fingers toyed restlessly 
 with the open newspaper. 
 
 " I haven't seen ' The St. George's/ " he said hastily. 
 " Lakeley is always ready to shake the red rag where 
 Russia is concerned; whether we are to enter the arena 
 is another matter. But what about Craig, Burnage? I 
 think you mentioned something of a contract." 
 
 '"" Oh, don't worry about that, sir." Blessington had 
 caught the twitching at the corners of Chilcote's mouth, 
 the nervous sharpness of his voice. " I can put Craig, 
 Burnage off. If they have an answer by Thursday it 
 will be time enough." He began to collect his papers, 
 but Chilcote stopped him. 
 
 "Wait!" he said, veering suddenly. "Wait! I'll 
 see to it now. I'll feel more myself when I've done 
 something. I'll come with you to the study." 
 
 He walked hastily across the room; then, with his 
 hand on the door, he paused. 
 
 " You go first, Blessington," he said. " I'll I'll fol- 
 low you in ten minutes. I must glance through the 
 newspapers first."
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 17 
 
 Blessington looked uncertain. " You won't forget, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Forget ? Of course not." 
 
 Still doubtfully Blessington left the room and closed 
 the door. 
 
 Once alone, Chilcote walked slowly back to the table, 
 drew up his chair and sat down his eyes on the white 
 cloth, the morning papers lying unheeded beside him. 
 
 Time passed. A servant came into the room to re- 
 move the breakfast. He moved slightly when neces- 
 sary, but otherwise retained his attitude. The servant, 
 having finished his task, replenished the fire and left 
 the room. Chilcote still sat on. 
 
 At last, feeling numbed, he rose and crossed to the 
 fireplace. The clock on the mantelpiece stared him in 
 the face. He looked at it, started slightly, then drew 
 out his watch. Watch and clock corresponded. Each 
 marked twelve o'clock. With a nervous motion he 
 leaned forward and pressed the electric bell long and 
 hard. 
 
 A servant answered instantly. 
 
 " Is Mr. Blessington in the study ? " Chilcote asked. 
 
 " He was there, sir, five minutes back." 
 
 Chilcote looked relieved. 
 
 " All right ! Tell him I have gone out have had to 
 go out. Something important. You understand ? " 
 
 " I understand, sir." 
 
 But before the reply had been properly spoken Chil- 
 cote had passed the man and walked into the hall. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Leaving his house, Chilcote walked forward quickly 
 and aimlessly. With the sting of the outer air, the 
 recollection of last night's adventure came back upon 
 him. Since the hour of his waking it had hung about 
 him with vague persistence, but now in the clear light 
 of day it seemed to stand out with a fuller peculiarity.
 
 18 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 The thing was preposterous, nevertheless it was genu- 
 ine. He was wearing the overcoat that he had worn 
 the night before, and acting on impulse he thrust his 
 hand into the pocket and drew out the stranger's card. 
 
 " Mr. John Loder ! " He reiterated the name as he 
 walked along, and mechanically it repeated itself in his 
 brain falling into measure with his steps. Who was 
 this John Loder? What was he? The questions tan- 
 talized him till his pace unconsciously increased. The 
 thought that two men so absurdly alike could inhabit 
 the same city and remain unknown to each other faced 
 him like a problem; it tangled with his personal wor- 
 ries and aggravated them. There was something akin 
 to danger in such an extraordinary resemblance. He 
 began to regret his impetuosity in thrusting his card 
 upon the man his stupidity in letting himself go on 
 the subject of Lexington. He turned hot and cold at 
 the recollection of what he had said and what he might 
 have said. Then for the first time he paused in his walk 
 and looked about him. 
 
 On leaving Grosvenor Square he had turned west- 
 ward, moving rapidly till the Marble Arch was reached ; 
 there, still oblivious of his surroundings, he had crossed 
 to the Edgeware Road, passing through it to the laby- 
 rinth of shabby streets that lie behind Paddington. 
 Now, as he glanced about him, he saw with some sur- 
 prise how far he had come. 
 
 The damp remnants of last night's fog still hung 
 about the house-tops in a filmy veil, there were no 
 glimpses of green to break the monotony of tone all 
 was quiet, dingy, neglected. But to Chilcote the shab- 
 biness was restful, the subdued atmosphere a satisfac- 
 tion. Amongst these sad houses, these passers-by, each 
 drearily filled with his own concerns, he experienced a 
 sense of respite and relief. In the fashionable streets 
 that bounded his own horizon, if a man paused in his 
 walk to work out an idea he instantly drew a crowd 
 of inquisitive or contemptuous eyes: here, if a man 
 halted for half an hour it was nobody's business but 
 his own.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 19 
 
 Enjoying this thought, he wandered on for close upon 
 an hour, moving from one street to another with steps 
 that were listless or rapid as inclination prompted; then, 
 still acting with pleasant aimlessness, he stopped in his 
 wanderings and entered a small eating-house. 
 
 The place was low-ceiled and dirty, the air hot and 
 steaming with the smell of food, but Chilcote passed 
 through the door and moved to one of the tables with 
 no expression of disgust and with far less furtive watch- 
 fulness than he used in his own house. By a curious 
 mental twist he felt greater freedom, larger opportuni- 
 ties in drab surroundings such as these than in the 
 broad issues and weighty responsibilities of his own 
 life. Choosing a corner seat, he called for coffee; and 
 there, protected by shadows and wrapped in cigarette 
 smoke, he set about imagining himself some vagrant 
 unit who had slipped his moorings and was blissfully 
 adrift. 
 
 The imagination was pleasant while it lasted, but with 
 him nothing was permanent. Of late the greater part 
 of his sufferings had been comprised in the irritable 
 fickleness of all his aims the distaste for, and impos- 
 sibility of, sustained effort in any direction. He had 
 barely lighted a second cigarette when the old restless- 
 ness fell upon him and he stirred nervously in his seat. 
 Five minutes later he rose, paid his small bill, and left 
 the shop. 
 
 Outside on the pavement he halted, and pulling out 
 his watch, saw that two hours stretched in front of him 
 before any appointment claimed his attention. He won- 
 dered vaguely where he might go what he might do in 
 those two hours. 
 
 In the last few minutes a distaste for solitude had 
 risen in his mind, giving the close street a loneliness 
 that had escaped him before. 
 
 As he stood mentally wavering, a cab passed slowly 
 down the street. The sight of a well-dressed man 
 roused the cabman. Flicking his whip, he passed Chil- 
 cote close, feigning to pull up. 
 
 The cab suggested civilization. Chilcote's mind
 
 20 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 veered suddenly, and he raised his hand. The vehicle 
 stopped, and he climbed in. 
 
 " Where to, sir ? " The cabman peered down through 
 the roof-door. 
 
 Chilcote raised his head. " Oh, anywhere near Pall 
 Mall," he said. Then as the horse started forward, 
 he put up his hand and shook the trap-door. 
 
 " Wait ! " he called. " I've changed my mind. Drive 
 to Cadogan Garden No. 33." 
 
 The distance to Cadogan Gardens was quickly cov- 
 ered. Chilcote had hardly realized that his destination 
 was reached, when the cab pulled up. Jumping out, he 
 paid the fare and walked quickly to the hall-door of 
 the house he wanted. 
 
 " Is Lady Astrupp at home ? " he asked sharply as 
 the door swung open in answer to his knock. 
 
 The servant drew back deferentially. " Her ladyship 
 has almost finished lunch, sir," he said. 
 
 For answer Chilcote stepped through the doorway 
 and walked half-way across the hall. 
 
 " All right," he said. " But don't disturb her on my 
 account. I'll wait in the white room till she has fin- 
 ished." Without taking further notice of the man, he 
 began to mount the stairs. 
 
 In the room where he had chosen to wait, a pleasant 
 wood fire brightened the dull January afternoon and 
 softened the thick white curtains, the gilt furniture, and 
 the Venetian vases filled with white roses. Moving 
 straight forward, he paused by the grate and stretched 
 his hands to the blaze; then, with his usual instability, 
 he turned and passed to a couch that stood a yard or 
 two from the fireplace. 
 
 On the couch, tucked away between a novel and a 
 crystal-gazing ball, was a white Persian kitten fast 
 asleep. Chilcote picked up the ball and held it between 
 his eyes and the fire; then he laughed superciliously, 
 tossed it back into its place and caught the kitten's tail. 
 The little animal stirred, stretched itself, and began to
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 21 
 
 purr. At the same moment the door of the room 
 opened. 
 
 Chilcote turned. 
 
 " I particularly said you were not to be disturbed," 
 he began. " Have I merited displeasure ? " He spoke 
 fast, with the uneasy tone that so often underran his 
 words. 
 
 Lady Astrupp took his hand with a confiding gesture 
 and smiled. 
 
 " Never displeasure," she said lingeringly, and again 
 she smiled. The smile might have struck a close ob- 
 server as being faintly artificial. But what man in Chil- 
 cote's frame of mind has time to be observant where 
 women are concerned. The manner of the smile was 
 very sweet and almost caressing and that sufficed. 
 
 " What have you been doing ? " she asked after a 
 moment's pause ; " I thought I was quite forgotten." 
 She moved to the couch, picked up the kitten, and kissed 
 it. " Isn't this sweet? " she added. 
 
 She looked very graceful as she turned, holding the 
 little animal up. She was a woman of twenty-seven, 
 but she still looked a girl. The outline of her face was 
 pure, the pale gold of her hair almost ethereal, and her 
 tall slight figure still suggested the suppleness the pos- 
 sibility of future development that belongs to youth. 
 She wore a lace-colored gown that harmonized with 
 the room and with the delicacy of her skin. 
 
 " Now sit down and rest or walk about. I shan't 
 mind which." She nestled into the couch and picked 
 up the crystal ball. 
 
 " What is the toy for ? " Chilcote looked at her from 
 the mantelpiece against which he was leaning. He had 
 never defined the precise attraction that Lillian Astrupp 
 held for him. Her shallowness soothed him ; her incon- 
 sequent egotism helped him to forget himself. She 
 never asked him how he was. She never expected im- 
 possibilities. She let him come and go and act as he 
 pleased, never demanding reasons. Like the kitten, 
 she was charming and graceful and easily amused; it 
 was possible that, also like the kitten, she could scratch
 
 22 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 and be spiteful on occasion, but that did not weigh with 
 Chilcote. He sometimes expressed a vague envy of the 
 late Lord Astrupp; but, even had circumstances per- 
 mitted, it is doubtful whether he would have chosen to 
 be his successor. Lillian as a friend was delightful, but 
 Lillian as a wife would have been a different consider- 
 ation. 
 
 " What is the toy for?" he asked again. 
 
 She looked up slowly. " How cruel of you, Jack ! It 
 is my very latest hobby." 
 
 It was part of her attraction that she was never with- 
 out a craze. Each new one was as fleeting as the last; 
 but to each she brought the same delightfully insincere 
 enthusiasm, the same picturesque devotion. Each was 
 a pose, but she posed so sweetly that nobody lost pa- 
 tience. 
 
 " You mustn't laugh ! " she protested, letting the kit- 
 ten slip to the ground. "I've had lessons at five guineas 
 each from the most fascinating person a professional; 
 and I'm becoming quite an adept. Of course I haven't 
 seen much beyond the milky appearance yet but the 
 milky appearance is everything, you know; the rest 
 will come. I am trying to persuade Blanche to let me 
 have a pavilion at her party in March and gaze for 
 all you dull political people." Again she smiled. 
 
 Chilcote smiled as well. " How is it done? " he asked, 
 momentarily amused. 
 
 " Oh, the doing is quite delicious. You sit at a table 
 with the ball in front of you; then you take the subject's 
 hands, spread them out on the table, and stroke them 
 very softly while you gaze into the crystal that gets 
 up the sympathy, you know." She looked up inno- 
 cently. " Shall I show you ? " 
 
 Chilcote drew a small table to the couch and spread 
 his hands upon it, palms downward. " Like this, eh ? " 
 he said. Then a ridiculous nervousness seized him, and 
 he moved away. " Some other day," he said quickly. 
 " You can show me some other day. I'm not very fit 
 this afternoon." 
 
 Jf Lillian felt any disappointment she showed none,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 23 
 
 " Poor old thing ! " she said softly. " Sit here by me, 
 and we won't bother about anything." She made a 
 place for him beside her, and as he dropped into it she 
 took his hand and patted it sympathetically. 
 
 The touch was soothing, and he bore it patiently 
 enough. After a moment she lifted the hand with a 
 little exclamation of reproof. 
 
 " You degenerate person ! You have ceased to mani- 
 cure. What has become of my excellent training ? " 
 
 Chilcote laughed. " Run to seed," he said lightly. 
 Then his expression and tone changed. 
 
 " When a man gets to my age," he added, " little so- 
 cial luxuries don't seem worth while; the social neces- 
 sities are irksome enough. Personally, I envy the beg- 
 gar in the street exempt from shaving, exempt from 
 washing " 
 
 Lillian raised her delicate eyebrows. The sentiment 
 was beyond her perception. 
 
 " But manicuring ! " she said reproachfully. " When 
 you have such nice hands ! It was your hands and your 
 eyes, you know, that first appealed to me." She sighed 
 gently, with a touch of sentimental remembrance. " I 
 thought it so strong of you not to wear rings it must 
 be such a temptation." She looked down at her own 
 fingers, glittering with jewels. 
 
 But the momentary pleasure of her touch was gone. 
 Chilcote drew away his hand and picked up the book 
 that lay between them. 
 
 "'Other Men's Shoes'!" he read. "A novel, of 
 course ? " 
 
 She smiled. " Of course. Such a fantastic story. 
 Two men changing identities." 
 
 Chilcote rose and walked back to the mantelpiece. 
 
 " Changing identities ? " he said, with a touch of in- 
 terest. 
 
 " Yes. One man is an artist, the other a millionaire ; 
 one wants to know what fame is like, the other wants 
 to know how it feels to be really sinfully rich. So they 
 exchange experiences for a month." She laughed. 
 
 Chilcote laughed as well. " But how ? " he asked.
 
 24 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Oh, I told you the idea was absurd. Fancy two 
 people so much alike that neither their friends nor their 
 servants can see any difference! Such a thing couldn't 
 be, could it ? " 
 
 Chilcote looked down at the fire. " No," he said 
 doubtfully. " No. I suppose not." 
 
 " Of course not. There are likenesses, but not freak 
 likenesses like that." 
 
 As she spoke Chilcote's head was bent, but at the last 
 words he lifted it. 
 
 " By Jove ! I don't know about that ! " he said. "Not 
 so very long ago I saw two men so much alike that 
 I I " He stopped. 
 
 Lillian smiled. 
 
 He colored quickly. " You doubt me ? " he asked. 
 
 " My dear Jack ! " Her voice was delicately reproach- 
 ful. 
 
 " Then you think that my my imagination has been 
 playing me tricks ? " 
 
 " My dear boy ! Nothing of the kind. Come back 
 to your place and tell me the whole tale ? " She smiled 
 again, and patted the couch invitingly. 
 
 But Chilcote's mental balance had been upset. For 
 the first time he saw Lillian as one of the watchful, 
 suspecting crowd before which he was constantly on 
 his guard. Acting on the sensation, he moved sud- 
 denly towards the door. 
 
 " I I have an appointment at the House," he said 
 quickly. " I'll look in another day when when I'm 
 better company. I know I'm a bear to-day. My nerves, 
 you know ! " He came back to the couch and took her 
 hand ; then he touched her cheek for an instant with his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Good-bye ! " he said. " Take care of yourself and 
 the kitten ! " he added with forced gaiety as he crossed 
 the room. 
 
 That afternoon Chilcote's nervous condition reached 
 its height. All day he had avoided the climax, but no
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 26 
 
 such evasion can be everlasting; and this he realized as 
 he sat in his place on the Opposition benches during the 
 half-hour of wintry twilight that precedes the turning 
 on of the lights in the House of Commons. He realized 
 it in that half-hour, but the application of the knowl- 
 edge followed later, when the time came for him to 
 question the Government upon some point relating to 
 a proposed additional dry-dock at Talkley, the naval 
 base. Then for the first time he knew that the suffer- 
 ings of the past months could have a visible as well as 
 a hidden side could disorganize his daily routine as 
 they had already demoralized his will and character. 
 
 The thing came upon him with extraordinary lack of 
 preparation. He sat through the twilight with tolerable 
 calm, his nervousness only showing in the occasional 
 lifting 1 of his hand to his collar and the frequent chang- 
 ing of his position ; but when the lights were turned on 
 and he leant back in his seat with closed eyes, he became 
 conscious of a curious impression, the disturbing idea 
 that, through his closed lids, he could see the faces on 
 the opposite side of the House see the rows of eyes, 
 sleepy, interested or vigilant. Never before had the sen- 
 sation presented itself, but once set up it ran through all 
 his susceptibilities. By an absurd freak of fancy those 
 varying eyes seemed to pierce through his lids, almost 
 through his eyeballs. The cold perspiration that had 
 become his daily dread broke out on his forehead ; and 
 at the same moment Fraide his leader turned, and lean- 
 ing over the back of his seat, touched his knee. 
 
 Chilcote started and opened his eyes. " I I believe I 
 was dozing," he said confusedly. 
 
 Fraide smiled his dry, kindly smile. " A fatal admis- 
 sion for a member of the Opposition," he said. " But I 
 was looking for you earlier in the day, Chilcote. There 
 is something behind this Persian affair. You big trad- 
 ing people will have to keep your eyes open." 
 
 Chilcote shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he said. " I scarcely believe in 
 it. Lakeley put a match to the powder in ' The St. 
 George's/ but 'twill only be a noise and a puff of smoke."
 
 26 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 But Fraide did not smile. " What is the feeling down 
 at Wark?" he asked. 
 
 " At Wark ? Oh, I I don't quite know. I have been 
 a little out of touch with Wark in the last few weeks. 
 A man has so many private affairs to look to " He 
 was uneasy under his chief's scrutiny. 
 
 Fraide's lips parted as if to make reply, but with a 
 certain dignified reticence he closed them again and 
 turned away. 
 
 Chilcote leant back in his place and furtively passed 
 his hand over his forehead. His mind was possessed by 
 one consideration the consideration of himself. He 
 glanced down the crowded, lighted House to the big glass 
 doors ; he glanced about him at his colleagues, indifferent 
 or interested; then surreptitiously his fingers strayed to 
 his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 Usually he carried his morphia tabloids with him, but 
 to-day by a lapse of memory he had left them at home. 
 He knew this, nevertheless he continued to search, while 
 the need of the drug rushed through him with a sense 
 of physical sickness. He lost hold on the business of 
 the House; unconsciously he half rose from his seat. 
 
 The man next him looked up. " Hold your ground, 
 Chilcote," he said. " Rayforth is drying up." 
 
 With a wave of relief Chilcote dropped back into his 
 place. Whatever the confusion in his mind, it was evi- 
 dently not obvious in his face. 
 
 Rayforth resumed his seat, there was the usual slight 
 stir and pause, then Vyse, the member for Salchester, 
 rose. 
 
 With Vyse's first words Chilcote's hand again sought 
 his pocket and again his eyes strayed toward the doors, 
 but Fraide's erect head and stiff back just in front of 
 him held him quiet. With an effort he pulled out his 
 notes and smoothed them nervously, but though his gaze 
 was fixed on the pages not a line of Blessington's clear 
 writing reached his mind. He glanced at the face of the 
 Speaker, then at the faces of the men on the Treasury 
 Bench, then once more he leant back in his seat.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 27 
 
 The man beside him saw the movement. " Funking 
 the dry dock?" he whispered jestingly. 
 
 " No," Chilcote turned to him suddenly, " but I feel 
 beastly have felt beastly for weeks." 
 
 The other looked at him more closely. " Anything 
 wrong ? " he asked. It was a novel experience to be 
 confided in by Chilcote. 
 
 " Oh, it's the grind the infernal grind." As he said 
 it, it seemed to him suddenly that his strength gave way, 
 He forgot his companion his position everything ex- 
 cept the urgent instinct that filled mind and body. 
 Scarcely knowing what he did, he rose and leant for- 
 ward to whisper in Fraide's ear. 
 
 Fraide was seen to turn, his thin face interested and 
 concerned; then he was seen to nod once or twice in 
 acquiescence, and a moment later Chilcote stepped quietly 
 out of his place. 
 
 One or two men spoke to him as he hurried from the 
 House, but he shook them off almost uncivilly, and mak- 
 ing for the nearest exit, hailed a cab. 
 
 The drive to Grosvenor Square was a misery. Time 
 after time he changed from one corner of the cab to 
 the other his acute internal pains prolonged by every 
 delay and increased by every motion. At last, weak in 
 all his limbs, he stepped from the vehicle at his own 
 door. 
 
 Entering the house, he instantly mounted the stairs 
 and passed to his own rooms. Opening the bedroom 
 door, he peered in cautiously. The lights had been 
 switched on, but the room was empty. With a nervous 
 excitement scarcely to be kept in check, he entered, shut 
 and locked the door; then, moving to the wardrobe, 
 opened it and drew the tube of tabloids from its shelf. 
 
 His hand shook violently as he carried the tube to the 
 table. The strain of the day, the anxiety of the past 
 hours with their final failure, had found sudden expres- 
 sion. Mixing a larger dose than he had ever before al- 
 lowed himself, he swallowed it hastily and walking 
 across the room, threw himself, fully dressed, upon the 
 bed.
 
 28 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 To those whose sphere lies in the west of London, Fleet 
 Street is little more than a name, and Clifford's Inn a 
 mere dead letter. Yet Clifford's Inn lies as safely stowed 
 away in the shadow of the Law Courts as any grave un- 
 der a country church wall; it is as green of grass, as 
 gray of stone, as irresponsive to the passing footstep. 
 
 Facing the railed-in grass plot of its little court, stood 
 the house in which John Loder had his rooms. Taken 
 at a first glance, the house had the deserted air of an of- 
 fice, inhabited only in the daylight hours ; but as night 
 fell, lights would be seen to show out, first on one floor, 
 then on another faint beacons of humanity, uncon- 
 sciously signalling each other. The rooms he inhabited 
 were on the highest floor and from their windows one 
 might gaze philosophically on the tree-tops, forgetting 
 the uneven pavement and the worn railing that hemmed 
 them round. On the outside of the door his name ap- 
 peared, but the paint had been soiled by time and the 
 letters for the most part reduced to shadows. On the 
 whole, taken in conjunction with the gaunt staircase and 
 bare walls, the place had a cheerless look. 
 
 Inside, however, the effect was somewhat mitigated. 
 The room on the right hand as one entered the small 
 passage that served as hall, was of fair size though low- 
 ceiled. The paint of the wall panelling, like the name 
 above the outer door, had long ago been worn to a dirty 
 and nondescript hue, and the floor was innocent of car- 
 pet ; yet in the middle of the room stood a fine old Crom- 
 well table, and on the plain deal book-shelves and along 
 the mantelpiece were some valuable books political and 
 historical for the most part. There were no curtains on 
 the windows, and a common reading-lamp with a green 
 shade stood on a desk. It was the room of a man with 
 few hobbies and no pleasures who existed because he 
 was alive, and worked because he must. 
 
 Three nights after the great fog, John Loder sat by 
 his desk in the light of the green-shaded lamp. The 
 remains of a frugal supper stood on the center table, and
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 29 
 
 in the grate a small and economical-looking fire was 
 burning. 
 
 Having written for close on two hours, Loder pushed 
 back his chair and stretched his cramped fingers; then 
 he yawned, rose and slowly walked across the room. 
 Reaching the mantelpiece, he took a pipe from the pipe- 
 rack and some tobacco from the jar that stood behind 
 the books. His face looked tired and a little worn, as is 
 common with men who have worked long at an uncon- 
 genial task. Shredding the tobacco between his hands, 
 he slowly filled his pipe, then lighted it from the fire with 
 a spill of twisted paper. 
 
 Almost at the moment that he applied the light, the 
 sound of steps mounting the uncarpeted stairs outside 
 caught his attention, and he raised his head to listen. 
 
 Presently the steps halted, and he heard a match struck. 
 The visitor was evidently uncertain of his whereabouts. 
 Then the steps moved forward again and paused outside 
 the door. 
 
 An expression of surprise crossed Loder's face, and 
 he laid down his pipe. As the visitor knocked, he walked 
 quietly across the room and opened the door. 
 
 The passage outside was dark, and the new-comer 
 drew back before the light from the room. 
 
 " Mr. Loder ? " he began interrogatively. Then 
 
 all at once he laughed in embarrassed apology. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " he said. " The light rather dazzled 
 me. I didn't realize that it was you." 
 
 With a quickness of intuition unusual to him, Loder 
 recognized the voice as belonging to his acquaintance of 
 the fog. 
 
 " Oh, it's you ! " he said. " Won't you come in? " His 
 voice was a little cold. This sudden resurrection left 
 him surprised and not quite pleasantly surprised. He 
 walked slowly back to the fireplace, followed by his 
 guest. 
 
 The guest seemed nervous and agitated. " I must 
 apologize for the hour of my visit," he said. " My my 
 time is not quite my own."
 
 30 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Loder waved his hand, "Whose time is his own?" 
 he asked. 
 
 Chilcote, encouraged by the remark, drew nearer to 
 the fire. Until this moment he had refrained from look- 
 ing directly at his host ; now, however, he raised his eyes 
 and despite his preparedness he recoiled unavoidably be- 
 fore the extraordinary resemblance. Seen here, in the 
 casual surroundings of a badly furnished and crudely 
 lighted room, it was even more astounding than it had 
 been in the mystery of the fog. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " he said again. " It's physical purely 
 physical. I'm bowled over against my will." 
 
 Loder smiled. The slight contempt that Chilcote had 
 first inspired rose again, and with it a second feeling less 
 easily defined. The man seemed so unstable, so incapable 
 yet so grotesquely suggestive of himself. 
 
 " The likeness is overwhelming," he said, " but not 
 heavy enough to sink under. Come nearer the fire. 
 What brought you here ? Curiosity ? " There was a 
 wooden arm-chair by the hearth. He indicated it with 
 a wave of the hand ; then turned and took up his smoul- 
 dering pipe. 
 
 Chilcote, watching him furtively, obeyed the gesture 
 and sat down. 
 
 " It is extraordinary ! " he said, as if unable to dismiss 
 the subject. "It it is quite extraordinary!" 
 
 The other glanced round. " Let's drop it," he said 
 curtly. " It's so confoundly obvious." Then his tone 
 changed. 
 
 "Won't you smoke?" he asked. 
 
 " Thanks ! " Chilcote began to fumble for his cigar- 
 ettes. 
 
 But his host forestalled him. Taking a box from the 
 mantelpiece, he held it out. 
 
 " My one extravagance ! " he said ironically. " My 
 resources bind me to one, and I think I have made a wise 
 selection. It is about the only vice we haven't to pay 
 for six times over." He glanced sharply at the face so 
 absurdly like his own, and lighting a fresh spill, held it 
 toward his guest
 
 THE MASOUERADERS. 31 
 
 Chilcote moistened his cigarette and leant forward. In 
 the flare of the paper his face looked set and anxious, 
 but Loder saw that the lips did not twitch as they had 
 done on the previous occasion that he had given him a 
 light ; and a look of comprehension crossed his eyes. 
 
 " What will you drink ? Or rather, will you have a 
 whisky? I keep nothing else. Hospitality is one of 
 the debarred luxuries." 
 
 Chilcote shook his head. " I seldom drink. But don't 
 let that deter you." 
 
 Loder smiled. " I have one drink in the twenty-four 
 hours generally at two o'clock, when my night's work 
 is done. A solitary man 'has to look where he is go- 
 ing." 
 
 "You work till two?" 
 
 " Two or three." 
 
 Chilcote's eyes wandered to the desk. "You write?" 
 he asked. 
 
 The other nodded. 
 
 " Books ? " Chilcote's tone was tinged with anxiety. 
 
 Loder laughed, and the bitter note showed in his 
 voice. 
 
 " No not books," he said. 
 
 The other leant back in his chair and passed his hand 
 across his face. The strong wave of satisfaction that 
 the words woke in him was difficult to conceal. 
 
 " What is your work ? " 
 
 Loder turned aside. " You musn't ask that," he said 
 shortly. " When a man has only one capacity, and that 
 capacity no outlet, he is apt to run to seed in a wrong di- 
 rection. I cultivate weeds at abominable labor and 
 small reward." He stood with his back to the fire, fac- 
 ing his visitor; his attitude was a curious blending of 
 pride, defiance, and despondency. 
 
 Chilcote leant forward again. " Why speak of your- 
 self like that? You are a man of intelligence and edu- 
 cation." He spoke questioningly, anxiously. 
 
 " Intelligence and education ! " Loder laughed. " Lon- 
 don is cemented with intelligence. And education! 
 What is education? The court-dress necessary to pres-
 
 32 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 entation; the wig and gown necessary to the barrister. 
 But do the wig and gown invariably mean briefs? Or 
 the court-dress royal favor ? Education is the accessory ; 
 it is influence that is the essential. You should know 
 that." 
 
 Chilcote mtoved restlessly. " You talk bitterly," he 
 said. 
 
 The other looked up. " I think bitterly which is 
 worse. I am one of those unlucky beggars who, in the 
 expectation of money, have been denied a profession, 
 even a trade, to which to cling in time of shipwreck, and 
 who inevitably drift out to sea. I warned you the other 
 night to steer clear of me. I come under the head of 
 flotsam." 
 
 Chilcote's face lighted. " You came a cropper ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " No. It was somebody else who came the cropper. 
 I dealt in results." 
 
 "Big results?" 
 
 " A drop from a probable eighty thousand pounds to 
 a certain eight hundred." 
 
 " And you ? How did you take it ? " The question 
 involuntarily escaped Chilcote. 
 
 " I ? Oh, I was twenty-five then. I had a good 
 
 many hopes and a good deal of pride; but there is no 
 place for either in a working world." 
 
 " But your people ? " 
 
 " My last relation died with the fortune." 
 
 "Your friends?" 
 
 Loder laid down his pipe. " I told you I was twenty- 
 five," he said with tEe tinge of humor that sometimes 
 crossed his manner. " Doesn't that explain things ? I 
 had never taken favors in prosperity ; a change of fortune 
 was not likely to alter my ways. As I have said, I was 
 twenty-five." He smiled. "When I realized my posi- 
 tion, I sold my belongings with the exception of a table 
 and a few books. I put on a walking suit and let my 
 beard grow ; then, with my entire capital in my pocket, 
 I left England without saying good-bye to any one." 
 
 " For how long?"
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 33 
 
 " Oh, for six years. I wandered half over Europe 
 and through a good bit of Asia in the time." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Oh, then I shaved off the beard, came back to Lon- 
 don and reclaimed the belongings I had stored." He 
 looked at Chilcote, partly contemptuous, partly amused 
 at his curiosity. 
 
 But Chilcote sat staring at him in silence. The domi- 
 nation of his personality and the futility of his achieve- 
 ments baffled him. 
 
 Loder saw his bewilderment. 
 
 " You wonder what the devil I came into the world 
 for," he said quickly. " I sometimes wonder the same 
 myself." 
 
 At his words a change passed over Chilcote. He half 
 rose, then dropped back into his seat. 
 
 " You have no friends? " he said. " Your life is worth 
 nothing to you ? " 
 
 Loder raised his head. " I thought I had conveyed 
 that impression." 
 
 " You are an absolutely free man ? " 
 
 " No man is free who works for his bread. If things 
 had been different I might have been in such shoes as 
 yours sauntering in legislative by-ways. My hopes 
 turned that way once ; but hopes, like more substantial 
 
 things, belong to the past " He stopped abruptly 
 
 and glanced at his companion. 
 
 The change in Chilcote had become more acute: he 
 sat fingering his cigarette, his brows drawn down, his 
 lips set nervously in a conflict of emotions. For a space 
 he stayed very still, avoiding Loder's eyes; then, as if 
 decision had suddenly come to him, he turned and met 
 his gaze. 
 
 " How if there was a future," he said, " as well as a 
 past?" 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 For the space of a minute there was silence in the 
 room ; then, outside in the still night, three clocks simul-
 
 S4 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 taneously chimed eleven, and their announcement was 
 taken up and echoed by half a dozen others loud and 
 faint, hoarse and resonant; for all through the hours of 
 darkness the neighborhood of Fleet Street is alive with 
 chimes. 
 
 Chilcote, startled by the jangle, rose from his seat; 
 and, as if driven by an uncontrollable impulse, he spoke 
 again. 
 
 " You probably think I am mad " he began. 
 
 Loder took his pipe out of his mouth. " I am not so 
 presumptuous," he said quietly. 
 
 For a space Chilcote eyed him silently, as if trying to 
 gauge his thoughts; then once more he broke into 
 speech : 
 
 " Look here," he said, " I came to-night to make a 
 proposition. When I have made it, you'll first jeer at it 
 as I jeered when I made it to myself ; then you'll see its 
 
 possibilities as I did ; then " he paused and glanced 
 
 round the room, " then you'll accept it as I did." In 
 the uneasy haste of his speech his words broke off almost 
 unintelligibly. 
 
 Involuntarily Loder lifted his head, but the other put 
 up his hand. His face was set with the obstinate deter- 
 mination that weak men sometimes exhibit. 
 
 " Before I begin I want to say that I am not drunk 
 that I am neither mad nor drunk." For almost the first 
 time he looked fully at his companion with his restless 
 glance. " I am quite sane quite reasonable." 
 
 Again Loder essayed to speak, but again the other put 
 up his hand. 
 
 " No. Hear me out. You told me something of your 
 story. I'll tell you something of mine. You'll be the 
 first human being, man or woman, I have confided in for 
 ten years. You say you have been treated shabbily; I 
 have treated myself shabbily which is harder to recon- 
 cile. I had every chance and I chucked every chance 
 away." 
 
 There was a strained pause, then again Loder lifted 
 his head. 
 
 " Drugs ? " he said very quietly.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 36 
 
 Chilcote wheeled round with a scared gesture. " How 
 did you know ? " 
 
 The other smiled. " It wasn't guessing it wasn't 
 even deduction. You told me or as good as told me 
 in the fog, when we talked of Lexington. You were 
 
 unstrung that night, and I Well, perhaps, one gets 
 
 over-observant from living alone." He smiled again. 
 
 Chilcote collapsed into his former seat and passed his 
 handkerchief across his forehead. 
 
 For a space his companion watched him, then he broke 
 into speech. 
 
 " Why don't you pull up ? " he said curtly. " You are 
 a young man still. Why don't you drop the thing before 
 it gets too late ? " His face was unsympathetic, and be- 
 low the question in his voice there lay a note of hard- 
 ness. 
 
 Chilcote returned his glance. The suggestion of re- 
 proof had accentuated his pallor. Under his excitement 
 he looked ill and worn. 
 
 "You might talk till Doomsday but every word 
 would be wasted," he said irritably. " I'm past praying 
 for, by something like six years." 
 
 " Then why come here ? " Loder was pulling hard 
 on his pipe. " I'm not a dealer in sympathy." 
 
 " I don't require sympathy." Chilcote rose again. He 
 was still agitated, but the agitation was more restrained. 
 " I want a much more expensive thing than sympathy 
 and I am willing to pay for it." 
 
 The other turned and looked at him. " I have no pos- 
 session in the world that would be worth a fiver to you," 
 he said coldly. " You are either under a delusion or you 
 are wasting my time." 
 
 Chilcote laughed nervously. " Wait ! " he said. 
 " Wait ! I only ask you to wait. First let me sketch you 
 my position it won't take many words. 
 
 " My grandfather was a Chilcote of Westmoreland. 
 He was one of the first of his day and class to recognize 
 that there was a future in trade ; so breaking his own 
 little twig from the family tree, he went south to Wark 
 and entered a firm of ship-owners. In thirty years' time
 
 3C JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 he died, the head of one of the biggest firms in England 
 having married the daughter of his early chief. My 
 father was twenty-four and still at Oxford when he in- 
 herited. Almost his first act was to reverse my grand- 
 father's youthful move, by going north and piecing to- 
 gether the family friendship. He married his first cousin ; 
 and then, with the Chilcote prestige revived and the ship- 
 ping money to back it, he entered on the ambition of his 
 life, which was to represent East Wark in the Conserva- 
 tive interest. It was a big fight, but he won as much 
 by personal influence as any other. He was an aristo- 
 crat, but he was a keen business man as well. The com- 
 bination carries weight with your lower classes. He 
 never did much in the House, but he was a power to the 
 party in Wark. They still use his name there to conjure 
 with." 
 
 Loder leant forward interestedly. 
 
 "Ah, Robert Chilcote?" he said. "I have heard 
 of him. One of those fine unostentatious men; strong 
 in action, a little narrow in outlook, but essential to a 
 country's staying power. You have reason to be proud 
 of your father." 
 
 Chilcote laughed suddenly. " How easily we sum up, 
 when a matter is impersonal ! My father may have been 
 a fine figure, but he shouldn't have left me to climb te 
 his pedestal." 
 
 Loder's eyes questioned. 
 
 " Don't you grasp my meaning ? " Chilcote's excite- 
 ment was rekindling. " My father died, and I was elected 
 for East Wark. You may say that if I had no real in- 
 clination for the position I could have kicked. But I tell 
 you I couldn't. Every local interest political and com- 
 mercial hung upon the candidate being a Chilcote. I 
 did what eight men out of ten would have done. I 
 yielded to pressure." 
 
 " It was a fine opening! " The words escaped Loder. 
 
 " Most prisons have wide gates 1 " Chilcote laughed 
 unpleasantly. " That was six years ago. I had started 
 on the morphia tack four years earlier, but up to my 
 father's death I had it under my thumb or believed I
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 37 
 
 had ; and in the realization of my new responsibilities and 
 the excitement of the political fight I almost put it aside. 
 For several months after I entered Parliament I worked 
 hard. I believe I made one speech that marked me as 
 a coming man." Again he laughed derisively. " I even 
 married " 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes. A girl of nineteen the ward of a big states- 
 man. It was a brilliant marriage politically as well as 
 socially. But it did not work. I was built without the 
 capacity for love. First the social life palled on me; 
 then my work grew irksome. There was only one fac- 
 tor to make life endurable morphia. Before six months 
 were out I had fully admitted that." 
 
 " But your wife ? " 
 
 " Oh, my wife knew nothing knows nothing. It is 
 the political business the beastly routine of the political 
 life that's wearing me out." He stopped nervously, 
 then hurried on again. " I tell you it's hell to see the 
 same faces, to sit in the same seat day in, day out, know- 
 ing that you must hold yourself in hand, must keep youf 
 grip .on the reins " 
 
 " It is always possible to apply for the Chiltern Hun- 
 dreds." 
 
 " To retire ? Possible to retire ? " Once more Chil- 
 cote broke into a loud sarcastic laugh. " You don't know 
 what the local pressure of a place like Wark stands for. 
 Twenty times I have been within an ace of chucking the 
 whole thing. Once last year I wrote privately to Vale, 
 one of our big men there, and hinted that my health was 
 bad. Two hours after he had read my letter he was in my 
 study. Had I been in Greenland he would have looked 
 me up with the same haste and the same determination. 
 No. Resignation is a meaningless word to a man like 
 me." 
 
 Loder looked down. " I see," he said slowly, " I see." 
 
 " Then you see everything. The difficulty the isola- 
 tion of the position. Five years ago three even two 
 years ago I was able to endure it; now it gets more un- 
 bearable with every month. The day is bound to come
 
 38 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 when when " he paused, hesitating nervously 
 " when it will be physically impossible for me to be at 
 my post." 
 
 Loder remained silent. 
 
 " Physically impossible," Chilcote repeated excitedly. 
 " Until now I was able to calculate to count upon my- 
 self to some extent but yesterday I received a shock 
 yesterday I discovered that that " again he halted 
 painfully " that I have passed the stage when one may 
 calculate." 
 
 The situation was growing embarrassing. To hide its 
 awkwardness, Loder moved back to the grate and re- 
 built the fire, which had fallen low. 
 
 Chilcote, still excited by his unusual vehemence, fol- 
 lowed him, taking up a position by the mantelpiece. 
 
 " Well ? " he said, looking down. 
 
 Very slowly Loder straightened himself. "Well?" 
 he echoed, studying his visitor. 
 
 " Have you nothing to say ? " 
 
 " Nothing except that your story is unique and that 
 I suppose I am flattered by your confidence." His 
 voice was intentionally brusque. 
 
 Chilcote paid no attention to the tone. Taking a step 
 forward, he laid his fingers on the lapel of Loder's coat. 
 
 " I have passed the stage where I can count upon my- 
 self," he said, " and I want to count upon somebody 
 else. I want to keep my place in the world's eyes and 
 yet be free " 
 
 Loder drew back involuntarily, contempt struggling 
 with bewilderment in his expression. 
 
 Chilcote lifted his head. " By an extraordinary 
 chance," he said, " you can do for me what no other man 
 in creation can do. It was suggested to me unconsciously 
 by the story of a book a book in which men change 
 identities. I saw nothing in it at the time ; but this morn- 
 ing as I lay in bed, sick with yesterday's fiasco, it came 
 back to me it rushed over my mind in a great inspira- 
 tion. It will save me and make you. I'm not insulting 
 you though you'd like to think so." 
 
 Without remark Loder freed himself and walked back
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 39 
 
 to his desk. His anger, his pride and, against his will, 
 his excitement were all aroused. 
 
 He sat down, rested his elbows on the desk, and took 
 his face between his hands. The man beside him un- 
 doubtedly talked madness ; but after five years of dreary 
 sanity the madness had a fascination. Against all rea- 
 son it stirred and roused him. For one instant his pride 
 and his anger faltered before it, then common sense 
 flowed back again and adjusted the balance. 
 
 " You propose," he said slowly, " that for a considera- 
 tion of money I should trade on the likeness between us 
 become your dummy, when you are otherwise en- 
 engaged ? " 
 
 Chilcote colored. " You are unpleasantly blunt." 
 
 "But I have caught your meaning?" 
 
 " In the rough, yes." 
 
 Loder nodded. " Then take my advice and go home," 
 he said. " You're unhinged." 
 
 Chilcote returned his glance, and as their eyes met 
 Loder was compelled to admit that though the face of 
 his companion was disturbed it had no traces of insanity. 
 
 " I make you a proposal," Chilcote said nervously. 
 " Do you accept ? " 
 
 For a moment Loder was silent, seeking a sufficiently 
 forcible reply. Taking advantage of the pause, Chilcote 
 broke in afresh. 
 
 " After all," he urged, " what I ask of you is a simple 
 thing. Merely to carry through my routine duties for a 
 week or two occasionally, when I find my endurance giv- 
 ing way when a respite becomes essential. The work 
 would be nothing to a man in your state of mind the 
 pay anything you like to name." In his eagerness he 
 had followed Loder to the desk. 
 
 " Won't you give me an answer ? I told you I am 
 neither mad nor drunk." 
 
 Loder pushed back the scattered papers that lay be- 
 fore him. 
 
 " Only a lunatic would propose such a scheme," he said 
 brusquely and without feeling. 
 
 "Why?"
 
 40 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 The other's lips parted for a quick retort; then in a 
 surprising way the retort seemed to fail him. 
 
 " Oh, because the thing isn't feasible isn't practicable 
 from any point of view." 
 
 Chilcote stepped closer. "Why?" he insisted. 
 
 " Because it couldn't work, man! Couldn't hold for a 
 dozen hours." 
 
 Chilcote put out his hand and touched his arm. " But 
 why?" he urged. "Why? Give me one unanswerable 
 reason." 
 
 Loder shook off the hand and laughed, but below his 
 laugh lay a suggestion of the other's excitement. Again 
 the scene stirred him against his sounder judgment; but 
 his reply when it came was firm enough. 
 
 " Oh, as for reasons," he said ; " there are a hundred, 
 if I had time to name them. Take it, for the sake of 
 supposition, that I were to accept your offer. I should 
 take my place in your house at let us say at dinner- 
 time. Your man gets me into your evening clothes and 
 there, at the very start, you have the first suspicion set 
 up. He has probably known you for years known you 
 until every turn of your appearance, voice, and manner 
 is far more familiar to him than it is to you. There are 
 no eyes like a servant's." 
 
 " I have thought of that. My servant and my secre- 
 tary can both be changed. I will do the thing thor- 
 oughly." 
 
 Loder glanced at him in surprise. The madness had 
 more method than he had imagined. Then, as he still 
 watched him, a fresh idea struck him and he laughed. 
 
 " You have entirely forgotten one thing," he said. 
 " You can hardly dismiss your wife." 
 
 " My wife doesn't count." 
 
 Again Loder laughed. " I'm afraid I scarcely agree. 
 
 The complications would be slightly slightly " He 
 
 paused. 
 
 Chilcote's latent irritability broke out suddenly. 
 
 " Look here," he said, " this isn't a chaffing matter. 
 Don't ridicule the idea. I'm in dead earnest." 
 
 J^oder said nothing.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 4l 
 
 " Think it over before you refuse." Chilcote's tone 
 was urgent 
 
 For a moment Loder remained motionless; then he 
 rose suddenly, pushing back his chair. 
 
 " Tush, man ! You don't know what you say. The 
 fact of your being married bars it. Can't you see that ? " 
 
 Again the other caught his arm. 
 
 " You misunderstand," he said. " You mistake the 
 position. I tell you my wife and I are nothing to each 
 other. She goes her way, I go mine. We have our own 
 friends, our own rooms; marriage actual marriage 
 doesn't enter the question. We meet occasionally at 
 meals and at other people's houses; sometimes we go 
 into society together for the sake of appearances, but be- 
 yond that nothing. If you take up my life, nobody in 
 it will trouble you less than Eve I can promise that." 
 He laughed unsteadily. 
 
 Loder's face remained unmoved. 
 
 " Even granting that," he said, " the thing is still im- 
 possible." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " There is the House. The position there would be 
 untenable. A man is known there as he is known in his 
 own club." He drew away from Chilcote's touch. 
 
 " Very possibly ! Very possibly ! " Chilcote laughed 
 quickly and excitedly. " But what club is without its 
 eccentric member? I am glad you spoke of that. I am 
 glad you raised that point. A long time ago I hit upon 
 a reputation for moods as a shield for for other things, 
 and the more useful it has become the more I have let 
 it grow. I tell you, you might go down to the House to- 
 morrow and spend the whole day without speaking to 
 even nodding to a single man, and as long as you were 
 me to outward appearance no one would raise an eye- 
 brow. In the same way you might vote in my place, ask 
 a question, make a speech if you wanted to " 
 
 At the word speech Loder turned involuntarily. For 
 a fleeting second the coldness of his manner dropped 
 and his face changed.
 
 42 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Chilcote, with his nervous quickness of perception, 
 saw the alteration, and a new look crossed his own face. 
 
 " Why not ? " he said quickly. " You once had ambi- 
 tions in that direction. Why not renew the ambitions?" 
 
 " And drop back from the mountains into the gutter ? " 
 Loder smiled, and slowly shook his head. 
 
 " Better to live for one day than to exist for a hun- 
 dred ! " Chilcote's voice trembled with anxiety. Once 
 again he extended his hand and touched the other's arm. 
 
 This time Loder did not shake off the detaining hand ; 
 he scarcely seemed to feel its pressure. 
 
 " Look here ! " Chilcote's fingers tightened. " A little 
 while ago you talked of influence. Here you can step 
 into a position built by influence. You might do all you 
 once hoped to do " 
 
 Loder suddenly lifted his head. " Absurd ! " he said. 
 " Absurd ! Such a scheme was never carried through." 
 
 " Precisely why it will succeed. People never suspect 
 until they have a precedent. Will you consider it at 
 least consider it? Remember if there is a risk, it is I 
 who am running it. On your own showing you have no 
 position to jeopardize." 
 
 The other laughed curtly. 
 
 " Before I go to-night will you promise me to consider 
 it?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then you will send me your decision by wire to-mor- 
 row. I won't take your answer now." 
 
 Loder freed his arm abruptly. 
 
 "Why not?" he asked. 
 
 Chilcote smiled nervously. " Because I know men 
 and men's temptations. We are all very strong till the 
 quick is touched; then we all wince. It's morphia with 
 one man ambition with another. In each case it's only 
 a matter of sooner or later." He laughed in his satiri- 
 cal, unstrung way and held out his hand. " You have 
 my address. Au revoir! " 
 
 Loder pressed the hand for an instant. " Good-bye ! " 
 he said meaningly. Then he crossed the room quietly 
 and held the door open.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 43 
 
 " Good-bye ! " he said again as the other passed him. 
 
 As he crossed the threshold Chilcote paused. " Au 
 revoir! " he corrected with emphasis. 
 
 Until the last echo of his visitor's steps had died away, 
 Loder stood with his hand on the door; then closing it 
 quietly, he turned and looked round the room. For a 
 considerable space he stood there, as if weighing the 
 merits of each object ; then very slowly he moved to one 
 of the book-shelves, drew out May's "Parliamentary 
 Practice," and carrying it to the desk, readjusted the 
 lamp. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 All the next day Chilcote moved in a fever of excite- 
 ment. Hot with hope one minute, cold with anxiety the 
 next, he rushed with restless energy into every task that 
 presented itself only to drop it as speedily. Twice dur- 
 ing the morning he drove to the entrance of Clifford'^ 
 Inn, but each time his courage failed him and he returned 
 to Grosvenor Square to learn that the expected mes- 
 sage from Loder had not come. 
 
 It was a wearying condition of mind, but at worst it 
 was scarcely more than an exaggeration of what his state 
 had been for months, and made little obvious difference 
 in his bearing or manner. 
 
 In the afternoon he took his place in the House; but 
 though it was his first appearance since his failure of 
 two days ago he drew little personal notice. When he 
 chose, he could repel advances with complete success, 
 and of late men had been prone to draw away from him. 
 
 In one of the lobbies he encountered Fraide sur- 
 rounded by a group of friends. With his usual furtive 
 haste he would have passed on ; but, breaking away from 
 his party, the old man accosted him. He was always 
 courteously particular in his treatment of Chilcote, as 
 the husband of his ward and godchild. 
 
 "Better, Chilcote?" he said, holding out his hand. 
 
 At the sound of the low, rather formal tones, so char-
 
 44 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 acteristic of the old statesman, a hundred memories rose 
 to Chilcote's mind, a hundred hours, distasteful in the 
 living and disagreeable in the recollection ; and with them 
 the new flash of hope the new possibility of freedom. 
 In a sudden rush of confidence he turned to Fraide. 
 
 " I believe I've found a remedy for my nerves," he 
 said ; " I I believe I'm going to be a new man." He 
 laughed with a touch of excitement. 
 
 Fraide pressed his fingers kindly. " That is right ! " 
 he said. " That is right ! I called at Grosvenor Square 
 this morning, but Eve told me your illness of the other 
 day was not serious. She was very busy she could only 
 spare me a quarter of an hour. She is indefatigable over 
 the social side of your prospects, Chilcote. You owe 
 her a large debt. A popular wife means a great deal to 
 a politician." 
 
 The steady eyes of his companion disturbed Chilcote. 
 He drew away his hand. 
 
 " Eve is unique ! " he said vaguely. 
 
 Fraide smiled. " That is right ! " he said again. " Ad- 
 miration is too largely excluded from modern marriages." 
 With a courteous gesture he freed himself, and turning 
 away rejoined his friends. 
 
 It was dinner-time before Chilcote could desert the 
 House, but the moment departure was possible he hur- 
 ried to Grosvenor Square. 
 
 As he entered the house the hall was empty. He swore 
 irritably under his breath, and pressed the nearest bell. 
 Since his momentary exaltation in Fraide's presence his 
 spirits had fallen, until now they hung at the lowest ebb. 
 
 As he waited in unconcealed impatience for an answer 
 to his ring he caught sight of his man Allsopp at the 
 head of the stairs. 
 
 " Come here ! " he called, pleased to find some one 
 upon whom to vent his irritation. " Has that wire come 
 forme?" 
 
 " No, sir. I inquired five minutes back." 
 
 " Inquire again." 
 
 " Yes, sir." Allsopp disappeared.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 45 
 
 A second after his disappearance the bell of the hall- 
 door whizzed loudly. 
 
 Chilcote started. All sudden sounds, like all strong 
 lights, affected him curiously. He half moved to the 
 door, then stopped himself with a short exclamation. At 
 the same instant Allsopp reappeared. 
 
 His master turned on him. 
 
 " What's the devil's the meaning of this ? " he said. 
 " A battery of servants in the house and no one to open 
 the hall-door." 
 
 Allsopp looked embarrassed. " Crapham is coming 
 directly, sir. He only left the hall to ask Jeffries " 
 
 Chilcote turned. " Damn Crapham ! " he exclaimed. 
 " Don't talk. Open the door yourself." 
 
 Allsopp hesitated his dignity struggling with his 
 obedience. As he waited the bell sounded again. 
 
 "Did you hear me?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." The man crossed the hall. 
 
 As the door was opened Chilcote passed his handker- 
 chief from one hand to the other in the tension of hope 
 and fear ; then, as the sound of his own name in the shrill 
 tones of a telegraph-boy reached his ears, he let the hand- 
 kerchief drop to the ground. 
 
 Allsopp took the thin envelope and carried it to his 
 master. 
 
 " A telegram, sir," he said. " And the boy wishes to 
 know if there is an answer." Picking up Chilcote's 
 handkerchief, he turned aside with elaborate dignity. 
 
 Chilcote's hands were so unsteady that he could 
 scarcely insert his finger under the flap of the envelope. 
 Tearing off a corner, he wrenched the covering apart 
 and smoothed out the flimsy pink paper. 
 
 The message was very brief: 
 
 " Shall expect you at eleven to-night. LODER." 
 
 He read it two or three times, then he looked up. "No 
 answer," he said mechanically; and to his own ears the 
 relief in his voice sounded strained and harsh. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Exactly as the clocks chimed eleven, Chilcote mounted
 
 46 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 the stairs to Loder's rooms. But this time there was 
 more of haste than of uncertainty in his steps, and reach- 
 ing the landing, he crossed it in a couple of strides and 
 knocked feverishly on the door. 
 
 It opened at once, and Loder stood before him. 
 
 The occasion was peculiar. For a moment neither 
 spoke ; each involuntarily looked at the other with new 
 eyes and under changed conditions. Each had assumed 
 a fresh standpoint in the other's thought. The passing 
 astonishment, the half-impersonal curiosity that had pre- 
 viously tinged their relationship, was cast aside never 
 to be reassumed. In each the other saw himself and 
 something more. 
 
 As usual Loder was the first to recover his com- 
 posure. 
 
 " Ah ! I was expecting you," he said. " Won't you 
 come in ? " 
 
 The words were almost the same as the words of the 
 night before, but his voice had a different ring; just as 
 his face, when he drew back into the room, had a dif- 
 ferent expression, a suggestion of anticipation that had 
 been lacking before. Chilcote caught the difference as 
 he crossed the threshold, and for a bare second a flicker 
 of something like jealousy touched him. But the sen- 
 sation was fleeting. 
 
 " I have to thank you," he said, holding out his hand. 
 He was too well bred to show by a hint that he under- 
 stood the drop in the other's principles. But Loder 
 broke down the artifice. 
 
 " Let's be straight with each other since everybody 
 else has to be deceived " he said, taking his visitor's 
 hand. " You have nothing to thank me for and you 
 know it. It's a touch of the old Adam. You tempted 
 me and I fell." He laughed, but below the laugh ran a 
 note of something like triumph the curious triumph of 
 a man who has known the tyranny of strength, and has 
 suddenly realized the freedom of a weakness. 
 
 " You fully understand the thing you have proposed ? " 
 he added in a different tone. " It's not too late to re- 
 tract even now."
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 47 
 
 Chilcote opened his lips, paused, then laughed in imi- 
 tation of Loder; but the laugh sounded forced. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, " I never use the word re- 
 tract." 
 
 "Never?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Then the bargain's sealed." 
 
 Loder walked slowly across the room, and taking up 
 his position by the mantelpiece, looked back at his com- 
 panion. The similarity between them as they faced each 
 other seemed abnormal defying even the closest scru- 
 tiny. And yet so mysterious is Nature even in her 
 lapses, they were subtly, indefinably different. Chilcote 
 was Loder deprived of one essential ; Loder, Chilcote 
 with that essential bestowed. The difference was not 
 physical; it lay in that baffling, inner illumination that 
 some call individuality and others soul. 
 
 Something of this idea misted and tangled by nerv- 
 ous imagination crossed Chilcote's mind in that moment 
 of scrutiny, but he shrank from it apprehensively. 
 
 " I I came to discuss details," he said quickly, cross- 
 ing the space that divided him from his host. " Shall 
 we ? Are you ? " He paused uneasily. 
 
 " I'm entirely in your hands." Loder spoke with de- 
 cision. Moving to the table, he indicated a chair, and 
 drew another forward for himself. 
 
 Both men sat down. 
 
 Chilcote leant forward, resting his elapsed hands on 
 the table. " There will be several things to consider," 
 he began nervously, looking across at his companion. 
 
 " Quite so." Loder glanced back appreciatively. " I 
 thought about those things the better part of last night. 
 To begin with, I must study your handwriting. I guar- 
 antee to get it right, but it will take a month." 
 
 "A month!" 
 
 " Perhaps three weeks. We mustn't make a mess of 
 things." 
 
 Chilcote shifted his position. 
 
 " Three weeks ! " he repeated. " Couldn't you ? " 
 
 " No. I couldn't." The other spoke authoritatively.
 
 48 JOHN CHILCOTE; OK, 
 
 " I might never want to put pen to paper, but on the 
 other hand I might have to sign a cheque one day." He 
 laughed. " Have you thought of that ? That I might 
 have to, or want to, sign a cheque ? " 
 
 " No. I confess it escaped me." 
 
 " You risk your fortune that you may keep the place it 
 has bought for you?" Loder laughed again. "How 
 do you know I am not a blackguard? How do you 
 know that I won't clear out one day and leave you high 
 and dry? What is to prevent John Chilcote from realiz- 
 ing forty or fifty thousand pounds and then making him- 
 self scarce? " 
 
 " You won't do that." Chilcote spoke sharply and 
 with unusual decision. " I told you your weakness last 
 night; it isn't money. Money isn't the rock you'll split 
 over." 
 
 " Then you think I'll split upon some rock? But that's 
 beyond the question. To get to business again you'll 
 risk my studying your signature ? " 
 
 The other nodded. 
 
 " Right ! Now, item two." Loder counted on his 
 fingers. " I must know the names and faces of your men 
 friends as far as I can. Your women friends don't count. 
 While I'm you, you will be adamant. But the men are 
 essential the backbone of the whole thing." He 
 laughed again pleasantly. 
 
 " I have no men friends I distrust the idea of friend- 
 ship." 
 
 " Acquaintances, then." 
 
 Chilcote looked up sharply. " I think we score there," 
 he said. " I have a reputation for absent-mindedness 
 that will carry you anywhere. They tell me I can look 
 through the most substantial man in the House as if he 
 were gossamer, though I may have lunched with him 
 the same day." 
 
 Loder smiled. " By Jove ! " he exclaimed ; " Fate must 
 have been constructing this before either of us was born. 
 But I must know your colleagues even if it's only to 
 cut them. You'll have to take me to the House." 
 
 "Impossible!"
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 49 
 
 "Not at all." Again the tone of authority fell to 
 Loder. " I can pull my hat over my eyes and turn up 
 my coat-collar nobody will notice me. Besides, we can 
 choose the fall of the afternoon. I promise you 'twill be 
 all right." 
 
 "Suppose the likeness should leak out? It's a risk." 
 
 Loder laughed confidently. :< Tush, man ! Risk is the 
 salt of life. I must see you at your post, and I must see 
 the men you work with." He rose, walked across the 
 room and took his pipe from the rack. " If I do this 
 thing I'll do it well." 
 
 The pipe filled, he resumed his seat, leaning across the 
 table in unconscious imitation of Chilcote. 
 
 " Got a match ? " he said laconically, holding out his 
 hand. 
 
 In response Chilcote drew his match-box from his 
 pocket and struck a light. As their hands touched, an 
 exclamation escaped him. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said with a fretful mixture of disap- 
 pointment and surprise, " I hadn't noticed that ! " His 
 eyes were fixed in annoyed interest on Loder's extended 
 hand. 
 
 Loder, following his glance, smiled. " Odd that we 
 should both have overlooked it! It clean escaped my 
 mind. It's rather an ugly scar." He lifted his hand un- 
 til the light fell more fully on it. Above the second joint 
 of the third finger ran a jagged furrow the reminder 
 of a wound that had once laid bare the bone. 
 
 Chilcote leant forward. " How did you come by it?" 
 he asked. 
 
 The other shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Oh, it's ancient history." 
 
 " The results are present day enough. It's very awk- 
 ward ! Very annoying ! " Chilcote's spirits, at all times 
 over-easily played upon, were damped by this first ob- 
 stacle. 
 
 Loder, still looking at his hand, didn't seem to hear. 
 " There's only one thing to be done," he said. " Each 
 wear two rings on the third finger of the left hand.
 
 50 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Two rings ought to cover it." He made a speculative 
 measurement with the stem of his pipe. 
 
 But Chilcote still looked irritable and disturbed. " I 
 detest rings. I never wear rings." 
 
 Loder raised his eyes calmly. " Neither do I," he 
 said. " But there's no reason for obstinacy." 
 
 But the other's irritability had been awakened. He 
 pushed back his chair. " I don't like the idea," he said. 
 
 Loder eyed him amusedly. 
 
 " What a queer beggar you are ! You waive the 
 danger of a man signing your cheques, and shy at wear- 
 ing a piece of jewelry. I'll have a fair share of indi- 
 viduality to study." 
 
 Chilcote moved restlessly. " Everybody knows I de- 
 test jewelry." 
 
 " Everybody knows you are capricious. It's got to 
 be rings or nothing, so far as I make out. We can't 
 counterfeit the scar." 
 
 Chilcote again altered his position, avoiding the other's 
 eyes; at last, after a struggle with himself, he looked 
 up. 
 
 " I suppose you're right ! " he said. " Have it your 
 own way." It was his first small tangible concession 
 to the stronger will. 
 
 Loder took his victory quietly. 
 
 "Good! Then it's all straight sailing?" 
 
 " Except for the matter of the the remunera- 
 tion " Chilcote hazarded the word uncertainly. 
 
 There was a faint pause, then his companion laughed 
 brusquely. 
 
 "My pay?" 
 
 Chilcote was embarrassed. " I didn't want to put it 
 quite like that." 
 
 " But that was what you thought. Why are you never 
 honest even with yourself?" 
 
 Chilcote drew his chair closer to the table. He did 
 not attend to the other's remark, but his fingers strayed 
 to his waistcoat pocket and fumbled there. 
 
 Loder saw the gesture. 
 
 " Look here," he said, " you are overtaxing yourself.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 51 
 
 The affair of the pay isn't pressing; we'll shelve it to 
 another night. You look tired out." 
 
 Chilcote lifted his eyes with a relieved glance. 
 "Thanks!" he said. "I do feel a bit fagged. If I 
 may, I'll have that whisky that I refused the other 
 night." 
 
 " Why, certainly." Loder rose at once and crossed to 
 a cupboard in the wall. In silence he brought out some 
 whisky, two glasses, and a bottle of soda-water. 
 
 " Say when ! " he said, lifting the whisky. 
 
 " Now, thanks ! But I'll have plain water instead 
 of soda, if it's all the same." 
 
 " Oh, quite." Loder recrossed the room. Instantly 
 his back was turned Chilcote drew a couple of tabloids 
 from his pocket and dropped them into his glass. As 
 the other came slowly back he laughed nervously al- 
 most hysterically. 
 
 " Thanks ! See to your own drink now I can man- 
 age this." He took the jug unceremoniously, and 
 guarding his glass from the light, poured in the water 
 with excited haste. 
 
 "What shall we drink to?" he said. 
 
 Loder methodically mixed his own drink and then 
 lifted the glass. " Why, to the career of John Chil- 
 cote ! " he answered humorously. " What other toast 
 is possible? " 
 
 For an instant Chilcote hesitated. There was some- 
 thing prophetic in the sound of the words. But he 
 shook the feeling off and held up his glass. 
 
 " To the career of John Chilcote ! " he answered, with 
 another high-pitched laugh. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It was a little less than three weeks since Chilcote and 
 Loder had drunk their toast, and again Loder was 
 seated at his desk. 
 
 His head was bent and his hand moved carefully, as
 
 62 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 he traced line after line of meaningless words on a 
 sheet of foolscap. Having covered the page with writ- 
 ing, he rose, moved to the center table, and compared 
 his task with an open letter that lay there. The com- 
 parison seemed to please him ; he straightened his shoul- 
 ders and threw back his head in an attitude of critical 
 satisfaction. 
 
 So absorbed was he, that when a step sounded on 
 the stairs outside he did not notice it, and only raised 
 his head when the door was unceremoniously thrown 
 open. Even then his interest was momentary. 
 
 "Hello ! " he said, his eyes returning to their scrutiny 
 of his task. 
 
 Chilcote shut the door and came hastily across the 
 room. He looked ill and harassed. As he reached 
 Loder he put out his hand nervously and touched his 
 arm. 
 
 Loder looked up. " What is it ? " he asked. " Any 
 new development ? " 
 
 Chilcote tried to smile. " Yes," he said huskily, " it's 
 come." 
 
 Loder freed his arm. " What ? The end of the 
 world?" 
 
 " The end of me." The words came jerkily, the 
 strain that had enforced them showing in every syl- 
 lable. 
 
 Still Loder was uncomprehending. He could not 
 or would not understand. 
 
 Again Chilcote caught and jerked at his sleeve. 
 ''Don't you see? Can't you see?" he said. 
 
 " No." 
 
 Chilcote passed his handkerchief across his forehead. 
 
 " It's come," he repeated. " Don't you understand ? 
 I want you." He drew away, then stepped back again 
 anxiously. 
 
 " I know I'm taking you unawares, but it's not my 
 fault. On my soul, it's not ! The thing seems to spring 
 
 at me and grip me " He stopped, sinking weakly 
 
 into a chair. 
 
 For a moment Loder stood erect and immovable;
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 53 
 
 then, almost with reluctance, his glance turned to the 
 figure huddled beside him. 
 
 " You want me to take your place to-night without 
 preparation ? " His voice was distinct and firm. 
 
 " Yes. Yes, I do." 
 
 " That you may spend the night in morphia ? This 
 and other nights ? " 
 
 Chilcote lifted a flushed, unsettled face. " You have 
 no right to preach. You accepted the bargain." 
 
 Loder raised his head quickly. " I never " he 
 
 began ; then both his face and voice altered. 
 
 " You are quite right," he said coldly. " You won't 
 have to complain again." 
 
 Chilcote stirred uncomfortably. " My dear chap, I 
 meant no offense. It's merely " 
 
 " Your nerves. I know. But come to business. What 
 am I to do?" 
 
 Chilcote rose excitedly. " Yes, business. Let's come 
 to business. It's rough on you, taking you short like 
 this. But you have an erratic person to deal with. 
 I've had a horrible day a horrible day." His face had 
 paled again, and in the green lamplight it possessed a 
 grayish hue. Involuntarily Loder turned away. 
 
 Chilcote watched him as he passed to the desk and 
 began mechanically to sort his papers. 
 
 " A horrible day ! " he repeated. " So bad that I 
 daren't face the night. You've read De Quincey ? " he 
 asked, with a sudden change of tone. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then read him again and you'll understand. I have 
 all the horrors without any art. I have no ' Ladies of 
 Sorrow,' but I have worse monsters than his ' croco- 
 dile.' " He laughed wildly and unpleasantly. 
 
 Loder turned. " Why in the devil's name ? " he 
 
 began; then once more he halted. Something in Chil- 
 cote's drawn, excited face checked him. The strange 
 suggestion of predestination that we sometimes see in 
 the eyes of another struck cold upon him, chilling his 
 last attempt at remonstrance.
 
 54 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " What do you want me to do ? " he asked in a low- 
 ered voice. 
 
 The words steadied Chilcote. He laughed a little. 
 The laugh was still shaky, but it was pitched in a lower 
 key. 
 
 " You you're quite right to pull me up ! We have 
 no time to waste. It must be one o'clock." He drew 
 out his watch, walked to the window, and stood look- 
 ing down into the shadowy court. 
 
 " How quiet you are here ! " he said. Then abruptly 
 a new thought struck him, and he wheeled back into the 
 room. 
 
 " Loder ! " he said quickly. " Loder, I have an idea ! 
 While you are me, why shouldn't I be you? Why 
 shouldn't I be John Loder instead of the vagrant we 
 contemplated? It covers everything it explains every- 
 thing. It's magnificent ! I'm amazed we never thought 
 of it before." 
 
 Loder was still beside the desk. " I thought of it," 
 he said, without looking back. 
 
 "And didn't suggest it?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 There was silence, and Chilcote colored quickly. 
 
 " Jealous of your reputation ? " he said. 
 
 " I have none to be jealous of." 
 
 Chilcote laughed disagreeably. " Then you aren't 
 so far gone in philosophy as I thought. You have still 
 a niche in your own good opinion." 
 
 Again Loder was silent for a moment; at last he 
 smiled. " You have an oddly correct perception at 
 times," he said. " I suppose I have had a lame sort of 
 pride in keeping my name clean. But pride like that is 
 out of fashion and I've got to float with the tide." 
 He laughed the short laugh that Chilcote had heard 
 once or twice before and, crossing the room, he paused 
 by his visitor's side. 
 
 " After all," he said, " what business have I with 
 pride straight or lame. Have my identity if you 
 want it. When all defenses have been broken down,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 55 
 
 one barrier won't save the town." Laughing again, he 
 laid his hand on the other's arm. " Come ! " he said. 
 " Give your orders. I capitulate." 
 
 An hour later the two men passed from Loder's bed- 
 room, where the final arrangements had been completed, 
 back into the sitting-room. Loder came first in fault- 
 less evening dress. His hair was carefully brushed, the 
 clothes he wore fitted him perfectly. To any glance 
 critical or casual he was the man who had mounted 
 the stairs and entered the rooms earlier in the evening. 
 Chilcote's manner of walking and poise of the head 
 seemed to have descended upon him with Chilcote's 
 clothes. He came into the room hastily and passed to 
 the desk. 
 
 " I have no private papers," he said, " so I have 
 nothing to lock up. Everything can stand as it is. A 
 woman named Robins comes in the mornings to clean 
 up and light the fire otherwise you must shift for 
 yourself. Nobody will disturb you. Quiet dead quiet, 
 is about the one thing you can count on." 
 
 Chilcote, half halting in the doorway, made an at- 
 tempt to laugh. Of the two he was noticeably the more 
 embarrassed. In Loder's well-worn, well-brushed tweed 
 suit he felt stranded on his own personality, bereft for 
 the moment of the familiar accessories that helped to 
 cloak deficiencies and keep the wheel of conventionality 
 comfortably rolling. He stood, unpleasantly conscious 
 of himself, unable to shape his sensations even in 
 thought. He glanced at the fire, at the table, finally 
 at the chair on which he had thrown his overcoat before 
 entering the bedroom. At sight of the garment his 
 gaze brightened, the aimlessness forsook him, and he 
 gave an exclamation of relief. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said. " I clean forgot." 
 
 "What?" Loder looked around. 
 
 " The rings." He crossed to the coat and thrust his 
 hand into the pocket. " The duplicates only arrived 
 this afternoon. The nick of time, eh ? " He spoke
 
 56 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 fast, his fingers searching busily. Occupation of any 
 kind came as a boon. 
 
 Loder slowly followed him, and as the box was 
 brought to light he leant forward interestedly. 
 
 " As I told you, one is a copy of an old signet-ring, 
 the other a plain band a plain gold band like a wed- 
 ding ring." Chilcote laughed as he placed the four 
 rings side by side on his palm. " I could think of noth- 
 ing else that would be wide and not ostentatious. You 
 know how I detest display." 
 
 Loder touched the rings. " You have good taste," 
 he said. "Let's see if they serve their purpose?" He 
 picked them up and carried them to the lamp. 
 
 Chilcote followed him. 
 
 " That was an ugly wound ! " he said, his curiosity re- 
 awakening as Loder extended his finger. " How did 
 you come by it ? " 
 
 The other smiled. " It's a memento," he said. 
 
 "Of bravery?" 
 
 " No. Quite the reverse." He looked again at his 
 hand, then looked at Chilcote. " No," he repeated, with 
 an unusual impulse of confidence. " It serves to re- 
 mind me that I am not exempt that I have been fooled 
 like other men." 
 
 " Which implies a woman ? " Chilcote returned his 
 glance. 
 
 " Yes." Again Loder looked at the scar on his finger. 
 " I seldom recall the thing," he said, " it's so absolutely 
 past. But I rather like to remember it to-night. I 
 rather want you to know that I've been through the fire. 
 It's a sort of guarantee." 
 
 Chilcote made a hasty gesture, but the other inter- 
 rupted it. 
 
 "Oh, I know you trust me right enough ! But you're 
 giving me a risky post. I want you to see that women 
 are out of my line quite out of it." 
 
 " But, my dear chap " 
 
 Loder went on without heeding. " This thing hap- 
 pened eight years ago at Santasalare," he said. " A
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 57 
 
 little place between Luna and Pistoria a mere handful 
 of houses wedged between two hills. A regular relic of 
 old Italy, crumbling away under flowers and sunshine, 
 with nothing to suggest the present century except the 
 occasional passing of a train around the base of one of 
 the hills. I had literally stumbled upon the place on a 
 long tramp south from Switzerland, and had been 
 tempted into a stay at the little inn. The second night 
 after my arrival something unusual occurred. There 
 was an accident to the train at the point where it skirted 
 Santasalare. 
 
 " There was a small excitement ; all the village was 
 anxious to help, and I took my share. As a matter of 
 fact the smash was not disastrous : the passengers were 
 hurt and frightened, but nobody was killed." He 
 paused and looked at his companion, but seeing him in- 
 terested, went on again 
 
 " Amongst these people was one English lady. Of 
 all concerned in the business, she was the least upset 
 and almost the only one who had escaped all injury. 
 When I came upon her, she was sitting on the shattered 
 door of one of the carriages, calmly rearranging her hat. 
 On seeing me, she looked up with the most charming 
 smile imaginable. 
 
 " ' I have just been waiting for somebody like you/ 
 she said. ' My stupid maid has got herself smashed up 
 somewhere in the second-class carriages, and I have 
 nobody to help me to find my dog.' 
 
 " Of course that first speech ought to have enlight- 
 ened me; but it didn't. I only saw the smile and heard 
 the voice; I knew nothing of whether they were deep 
 or shallow. So I found the maid and found the dog. 
 The first expressed gratitude, the second didn't. I ex- 
 tricated him with enormous difficulty from the wreck 
 of the luggage-van, and this was how he marked his 
 appreciation." He held out his hand, and nodded to- 
 ward the scar. 
 
 Chilcote glanced up. " So that's the explanation ? " 
 
 " Yes. I tried to conceal the thing when I restored
 
 58 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 the dog; but I was bleeding abominably and I failed. 
 Then the whole business was changed. It was I who 
 needed seeing to, my new friend insisted; I who should 
 be looked after, and not she. She forgot the dog in 
 the newer interest of my wounded finger. The maid, 
 who was practically unhurt, was sent on to engage 
 rooms for her at the little inn, and she and I followed. 
 
 " That walk impressed me. There was an attractive 
 mistiness in the warm night, a sensation more than at- 
 tractive in being made much of by a woman of one's 
 own class and country after five years' wandering." He 
 laughed, with a touch of irony. " But I won't take up 
 your time with details. You know the progress of an 
 ordinary love affair. Throw in a few more flowers and 
 a little more sun than usual; a man who is practically 
 a hermit and a woman who knows the world by heart, 
 and you have the whole thing. 
 
 " She insisted on staying in Santasalare for three 
 days in order to keep my finger bandaged; she ended 
 by staying three weeks, in the hope of smashing up my 
 life. 
 
 " On coming to the hotel she had given no name ; 
 and in our first explanations to each other she led me 
 to conclude her an unmarried girl. It was at the end of 
 the three weeks that she told me with the sweetest 
 smile in the world that she was not a free agent, as I 
 had innocently imagined, but possessed a husband, 
 whom she had left ill with malaria at Florence. 
 
 " The news disconcerted me and I took no pains 
 to hide it. After that, the end came abruptly. In her 
 eyes I had become a fool with middle-class principles ; 
 
 in my eyes But there is no need for that. She left 
 
 Santasalare the same night in a great confusion of 
 trunks and hat-boxes; and next morning I strapped on 
 my knapsack and I turned my face to the south." 
 
 " And women don't count ever after ? " Chilcote 
 smiled, beguiled out of himself. 
 
 Loder laughed. " That's what I've been trying to 
 convey. Once bitten, twice shy ! " He laughed again,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 59 
 
 and slipped the two rings over his finger with an air 
 of finality. 
 
 "Now", shall I start? This is the latch-key?" He 
 drew a key from the pocket of Chilcote's evening 
 clothes. " When I get to Grosvenor Square I find your 
 house, go straight in, mount the stairs, and there on 
 my right hand is the door of your I mean my own 
 private rooms. I think I've got it all by heart. I feel 
 inspired to-night; I feel that I can't go wrong." He 
 handed the two remaining rings to Chilcote and picked 
 up the overcoat. 
 
 " I'll stick on till I get a wire, then I'll come back 
 and we'll reverse again." He slipped on the coat and 
 moved back toward the table. Now that the decisive 
 moment had come, it embarrassed him. Scarcely know- 
 ing how to bring it to an end, he held out his hand. 
 
 Chilcote took it, paling a little. " Twill be all right ! " 
 he said, with a sudden return of nervousness. " 'Twill 
 be all right! And I've made it plain about about the 
 remuneration? A hundred a week beside all ex- 
 penses." 
 
 Loder smiled again. " My pay ? Oh, yes, you've 
 made it clear as day. Shall we say good night now ? " 
 
 "Yes. Good night!" 
 
 There was a strange distant note in Chilcote's voice, 
 but the other did not pretend to hear it. He pressed 
 the hand he was holding, though the cold dampness of 
 it repelled him. 
 
 " Good night ! " he said again. 
 
 " Good night ! " 
 
 They stood for a moment, awkwardly looking at each 
 other, then Loder quietly disengaged his hand, crossed 
 the room, and passed through the doorway. 
 
 Chilcote, left standing alone in the middle of the 
 room, listened while the last sound of the other's foot- 
 steps was audible on the uncarpeted stairs; then, with 
 a furtive, hurried gesture, he caught up the green- 
 shaded lamp and passed into Loder's bedroom.
 
 60 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 To all men come portentous moments, difficult mo- 
 ments, triumphant moments. Loder had had his ex- 
 amples of all three; but no moment in his career ever 
 equalled in strangeness of sensation that in which 
 dressed in another man's clothes he fitted the latch- 
 key for the first time into the door of the other man's 
 house. 
 
 The act was quietly done. The key fitted the lock 
 smoothly, and his fingers turned it without hesitation, 
 though his heart, usually extremely steady, beat sharply 
 for a second. The hall loomed massive and somber, 
 despite the modernity of electric lights. It was darkly 
 and expensively decorated in black and brown ; a frieze 
 of wrought bronze, representing peacocks with out- 
 spread tails, ornamented the walls ; the banisters were 
 of heavy ironwork, and the somewhat formidable fire- 
 place was of the same dark metal. 
 
 Loder looked about him, then advanced, his heart 
 again beating quickly as his hand touched the cold ban- 
 ister and he began his ascent of the stairs. But at each 
 step his confidence strengthened, his feet became more 
 firm, his hand gained in sureness; then at the head of 
 the stairs, as if to disprove his assurance, his pulses 
 played him false once more this time to a more serious 
 tune. From the farther end of the well-lighted corri- 
 dor he caught sight of a maid coming straight in his 
 direction. 
 
 For one short second all things seemed to whizz about 
 him ; the certainty of detection overpowered his mind. 
 The indisputable knowledge that he was John Loder 
 and no other, despite all armor of effrontery and dress, 
 so dominated him that all other considerations shrank 
 before it. It wanted but a word one simple word of 
 denunciation and the whole scheme was shattered. In 
 the dismay of the moment he almost wished that the 
 word might be spoken and the suspense ended. 
 
 But the maid came on in silence, and so incredible 
 was the silence that Loder moved onward too. He
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 61 
 
 came within a yard of her and still she did not speak; 
 then, as he passed her, she drew back respectfully 
 against the wall. 
 
 The strain, so astonishingly short, had been immense; 
 but with its slackening, came a strong reaction. The 
 expected humiliation seethed suddenly into a desire to 
 dare Fate. Pausing quickly, he turned and called the 
 woman back. 
 
 The spot where he had halted was vividly bright, the 
 drop-light from the ceiling being directly above his 
 head, and as she came toward him he raised his face 
 deliberately and waited. 
 
 She looked at him without surprise or interest. " Yes, 
 sir? " she said. 
 
 " Is your mistress in ? " he asked. He could think of 
 no other question; but it served its purpose as a test of 
 his voice. 
 
 Still the woman showed no surprise. " She's not in, 
 sir." she answered. " But she's expected in half an 
 hour." 
 
 "In half an hour? All right! That's all I wanted." 
 With a movement of decision he walked back to the 
 stairhead, turned to the right, and opened the door of 
 Chilcote's rooms. 
 
 The door opened on a short wide passage. On one 
 side stood the study, on the other the bed, bath and 
 dressing rooms. With a blind sense of knowledge and 
 unfamiliarity, bred of much description on Chilcote's 
 part, he put his hand on the study door and, still ex- 
 alted by the omen of his first success, turned the handle. 
 
 Inside the room there was firelight and lamplight and 
 a studious air of peace. The realization of this, and a 
 slow incredulity at Chilcote's voluntary renunciation, 
 were his first impressions ; then his attention was needed 
 for more imminent things. 
 
 As he entered, the new secretary was returning a 
 volume to its place on the book shelves. At sight of 
 him, he pushed it hastily into position and turned 
 around. 
 
 " I was making a few notes on the political position
 
 62 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 of Khorasan," he said, glancing with slight apprehen- 
 siveness at Loder's face He was a small, shy man, 
 with little social position and a superfluous amount of 
 learning, the antithesis of the alert Blessington whom 
 he had replaced. 
 
 Loder bore his scrutiny without flinching. Indeed it 
 struck him suddenly that there was a fund of interest, 
 almost of excitement, in the encountering of each new 
 pair of eyes. At the thought he moved forward to 
 the desk. 
 
 ' Thank you, Greening," he said. " A very useful 
 bit of work." 
 
 The secretary glanced up, slightly puzzled. His en- 
 durance had been severely taxed in the fourteen days 
 that he had filled his new post. 
 
 " I'm glad you think so, sir," he said hesitatingly. 
 " You rather pooh-poohed the matter this morning, if 
 you remember." 
 
 Loder was taking off his coat, but stopped in the 
 operation. 
 
 "This morning?" he said. "Oh, did I? Did I?" 
 Then, struck by the opportunity the words gave him, he 
 turned toward the secretary. 
 
 "You've got to get used to me, Greening," he said. 
 " You haven't quite grasped me yet. I'm a man of 
 moods, you know. Up to the present you've seen my 
 slack side my jagged side but I have quite another 
 when I care to show it. I'm a sort of Jekyll and Hyde 
 affair." Again he laughed, and Greening echoed the 
 sound diffidently. Chilcote had evidently discouraged 
 familiarity. 
 
 Loder eyed him with abrupt understanding. He rec- 
 ognized the loneliness in the anxious, conciliatory man- 
 ner. 
 
 "You're tired," he said kindly. "Go to bed. I've 
 got some thinking to do. Good night ! " He held out 
 his hand. 
 
 Greening took it, still half distrustful of this fresh 
 side of so complex a man. 
 
 " Good night, sir ! " he said. " To-morrow, if you
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 63 
 
 approve, I shall go on with my notes. I hope you will 
 have a restful night." 
 
 For a second Loder's eyebrows went up, but he re- 
 covered himself instantly. 
 
 "Ah, thanks, Greening!" he said. "Thanks! I 
 think your hope will be fulfilled." 
 
 He watched the little secretary move softly and apolo- 
 getically to the door; then he walked to the fire, and 
 resting his elbows on the mantelpiece, took his face in 
 his hands. 
 
 For a space he stood absolutely quiet; then his hands 
 dropped to his sides, and he turned slowly around. In 
 that short time he had balanced things and found his 
 bearings. The slight nervousness shown in his brusque 
 sentences and over-confident manner faded out, and he 
 faced facts steadily. 
 
 With the return of his calmness, he took a long sur- 
 vey of the room. His glance brightened appreciatively 
 as it traveled from the walls lined with well-bound 
 books to the lamps modulated to the proper light; from 
 the lamps to the desk, fitted with every requirement; 
 from the desk to the chairs, suitable for every circum- 
 stance of reading, writing, or meditation. Nothing was 
 lacking. All he had once possessed, all he had since 
 dreamed of, was here but on a greater scale. To enjoy 
 the luxuries of life a man must go long without them. 
 Loder had lived severely so severely that until three 
 weeks ago he had believed himself exempt from the 
 temptations of humanity. Then the voice of the world 
 had spoken, and within him another voice had answered 
 with a tone so clamorous and insistent that it had out- 
 cried his surprised and incredulous remonstrance 
 boldly asserting its existence and its claims. That had 
 been the voice of suppressed ambition, but now as he 
 stood in the new atmosphere a newer voice lifted itself. 
 The joy of material things rose suddenly, overbalancing 
 .the last remnant of the philosophy he had reared. He 
 saw the objects that surrounded him in a fresh light 
 the soft carpets, the soft lights, the numberless pleasant 
 unnecessary things that color the passing landscape and
 
 64 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 oil the wheels of life. This was power power made 
 manifest. The choice bindings of one's books, the quiet 
 harmony of one's surroundings, the gratifying deference 
 of one's dependants. These were the visible, the out- 
 ward signs. The things he had forgotten. 
 
 Crossing the room slowly, he lifted and looked at the 
 different papers on the desk. They had a substantial 
 feeling, an air of value and importance. They were like 
 the solemn keys to so many vexed problems. Beside 
 the papers were a heap of letters neatly arranged and 
 as yet unopened. He turned them over one by one. 
 They were all thick, and interesting to look at. He 
 smiled as he recalled his own scanty mail; envelopes 
 long and bulky or narrow and thin unwelcome manu- 
 scripts or very welcome cheques. Having sorted the 
 letters, he hesitated. It was his task to open them ; but 
 he had never in his life opened an envelope addressed 
 to another man. 
 
 He stood uncertain, weighing them in his hand. Then 
 all at once a look of attention and surprise crossed his 
 face, and he raised his head. Some one had unmistak- 
 ably paused outside the door, which Greening had left 
 slightly ajar. 
 
 There was a moment of apparent doubt, then a stir of 
 skirts, a quick uncertain knock, and the intruder entered. 
 
 For a couple of seconds she stood in the doorway ; then 
 as Loder made no effort to speak, she moved into the 
 room. She had apparently but just returned from some 
 entertainment, for though she had drawn off her long 
 gloves, she was still wearing an evening cloak of lace and 
 fur. 
 
 That she was Chilcote's wife, Loder knew instinctively 
 the moment she entered the room ; but a disconcerting 
 confusion of ideas was all that followed the knowledge. 
 He stood by the desk, silent and awkward, trying to fit 
 his expectations to his knowledge. At last, faced by the 
 hopelessness of the task, he turned abruptly and looked 
 at her again. 
 
 She had taken off her cloak and was standing by the 
 fire. The compulsion of moving through life alone* had
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 65 
 
 set its seal upon her in a certain self-possession a cer- 
 tain confidence of pose; yet her figure as Loder then 
 saw it, backgrounded by the dark books and gowned in 
 pale blue, had a suggestion of youthfulness that seemed 
 a contradiction. Epithets of Chilcote's, " cold," " un- 
 sympathetic," came back to him with something like 
 astonishment. He felt no uncertainty, no dread of dis- 
 covery and humiliation in her presence, as he had felt 
 in the maid's. Yet there was something in her face that 
 made him infinitely more uncomfortable. A look he could 
 find no name for, a friendliness that studiously covered 
 another feeling, whether question, distrust, or actual dis- 
 like, he could not say. With a strange sensation of awk- 
 wardness he sorted Chilcote's letters, waiting for her to 
 speak. 
 
 As if divining his thought, she turned towards him. 
 
 " I'm afraid I rather intrude," she said. " If you are 
 busy " 
 
 Loder's sense of courtesy was touched. He had begun 
 life with a high opinion of women, and the words roused 
 an echo of the old sentiment. 
 
 "Don't think that," he said. "I was looking 
 through my letters. You mustn't rate yourself below 
 letters." He was conscious that his tone was hurried 
 and his words a little jagged ; but Eve did not appear to 
 notice. Unlike Greening, she took the new manner 
 without surprise. She had known Chilcote for six years. 
 
 " I dined with the Fraides to-night," she said. " Mr. 
 Fraide sent you a message." 
 
 Unconsciously Loder smiled. There was humor in the 
 thought of a message to him from the great Fraide. To 
 hide his amusement, he wheeled one of the big lounge- 
 chairs forward. 
 
 "Indeed!" he said. "Won't you sit down?" 
 
 They were near together now, and he saw her face 
 more fully. Again he was taken aback. Chilcote had 
 spoken of her as socially successful and intelligent, but 
 never as beautiful. Yet her beauty was a rare and un- 
 common fact. Her hair was black, not a glossy black, 
 but the dusky black that is softer than any brown, her
 
 66 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 eyes were large and of a peculiarly pure blue, and her 
 eyelashes were black, beautifully curved and of remark- 
 able thickness. Loder found himself noting all these 
 things. 
 
 "Won't you sit down?" he said again, cutting shorti 
 his thoughts with some confusion. 
 
 " Thank you ! " She gravely accepted the proffered 
 chair. But Loder saw that without any ostentation she 
 drew her skirts aside as she passed him. The action dis- 
 pleased him unaccountably. 
 
 "Well," he said shortly, "what had Fraide to say?" 
 He walked to the mantelpiece with his customary move- 
 ment and stood watching her. The instinct toward hiding 
 his face had left him. Her instant and uninterested ac- 
 ceptance of him almost nettled him'; his own half-con- 
 temptuous impression of Chilcote came to him unpleas- 
 antly, and with it the first desire to assert his own in- 
 dividuality. Stung by the conflicting emotions, he felt 
 in Chilcote's pockets for something to smoke. 
 
 Eve saw and interpreted the action. " Are these your 
 cigarettes ? " She leant towards a small table and 
 picked up a little lizard-skin box. 
 
 " Thanks ! " He took the box, and as it passed from 
 one to the other, he saw her glance at his rings. The 
 glance was momentary; her lips parted to express ques- 
 tion or surprise, then closed again without comment. 
 More than any spoken words, the incident showed 
 Loder the gulf that separated husband and wife. 
 
 "Well?" he said again. "What of Fraide?" 
 
 At his words she sat straighter, and looked at him 
 more directly, as if bracing herself to a task. 
 
 " Mr. Fraide is is as interested in you as ever," she 
 began. 
 
 " Or in you ? " Loder made the interruption precisely 
 as he felt Chilcote would have made it. Then instantly 
 he wished the words back. 
 
 Eve's warm skin colored more deeply. For a second 
 the inscrutable underlying expression that puzzled Loder 
 showed in her eyes, then she sank back into a corner of 
 the chair.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 67 
 
 " Why do you make such a point of sneering at my 
 friends?" she asked quietly. "I overlook it when you 
 are nervous." She halted slightly on the word. " But 
 you are not nervous to-night." 
 
 Loder, to his great humiliation, reddened. Except 
 for an occasional outburst on the part of Mrs. Robins, 
 his charwoman, he had not merited a woman's displeas- 
 ure for years. 
 
 " The sneer was unintentional," he said. 
 
 For the first time Eve showed a personal interest. She 
 looked at him in a puzzled way. " If your apology was 
 meant," she said hesitatingly, " I should be glad to ac- 
 cept it. But " she halted. 
 
 Loder, uncertain of how to take the words, moved 
 back to the desk. He carried an unlighted cigarette be- 
 tween his fingers. 
 
 There was an interval in which neither spoke. Then 
 at last, conscious of its awkwardness, Eve rose. With 
 one hand on the back of her chair, she looked at him. 
 
 " Mr. Fraide thinks it such a pity that " she stopped 
 to choose her words " that you should lose hold on 
 things lose interest in things, as you are doing. He has 
 been thinking a good deal about you in the last three 
 weeks, ever since the day of your your illness in the 
 
 House ; and it seems to him " Again she broke off, 
 
 watching Loder's averted head. " It seems to him that 
 if you made one real effort now even now, to shake off 
 your restlessness, that your your health might improve. 
 He thinks that the present crisis would give you a tre- 
 mendous opportunity. Your trade interests, bound up 
 as they are with Persia, would give any opinion you 
 might hold a double weight." Almost unconsciously a 
 touch of warmth crept into her words. " Mr. Fraide 
 talked very seriously about the beginning of your career. 
 He said that if only the spirit of your first days could 
 come back." Her tone grew quicker, as though she 
 feared ridicule in Loder's silence. " He asked me to use 
 my influence. I know that I have little none perhaps; 
 but I couldn't tell him that, and so so I promised."
 
 68 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " And have kept the promise ? " Loder spoke at ran- 
 dom. Her manner and her words had both affected him. 
 There was a sensation of unreality in his brain. 
 
 " Yes," she answered. " I always want to do what I 
 can." 
 
 As she spoke a sudden realization of the effort she 
 was making struck upon him, and with it his scorn of 
 Chilcote rose in renewed force. 
 
 " My intention " he began, turning to her. Then 
 
 the futility of any declaration silenced him. 
 
 " I shall think over what you have said," he added 
 after a minute's wait. " I suppose I can't say more than 
 that." 
 
 Their eyes met and she smiled a little. 
 
 " I don't believe I expected as much," she said. " I 
 think I'll go now. You have been wonderfully patient." 
 Again she smiled slightly, at the same time extending 
 her hand. The gesture was quite friendly, but in Loder's 
 eyes it held relief as well as friendliness ; and when their 
 hands met he noticed that her fingers barely brushed his. 
 
 He picked up her cloak and carried it across the room. 
 As he held the door open, he laid it quietly across her 
 arm. 
 
 " I'll think over what you said," he repeated. 
 
 Again she glanced at him as if suspecting sarcasm; 
 then, partly reassured, she paused. " You will always 
 despise your opportunities, and I suppose > I will always 
 envy them," she said. " That's the way with men and 
 women. Good night ! " With another faint smile she 
 passed out into the corridor. 
 
 Loder waited till he heard the outer door close, then 
 he crossed the room thoughtfully and dropped into the 
 chair that she had vacated. He sat for a time looking at 
 the hand her fingers had touched ; then he lifted his head 
 with a characteristic movement. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said aloud, " how cordially she detests 
 him!"
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 69 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Loder slept soundly and dreamlessly in Chilcote's 
 canopied bed. To him, the big room with its severe mag- 
 nificence suggested nothing of the gloom and solitude 
 that it held in its owner's eyes. The ponderous furni- 
 ture, the high ceiling, the heavy curtains, unchanged 
 since the days of Chilcote's grandfather, all hinted at 
 a far-reaching ownership that stirred him. The owner- 
 ship was mythical in his regard, and the possessions a 
 mirage, but they filled the day. And surely, sufficient for 
 th day 
 
 That was his frame of mind as he opened his eyes on 
 the following morning, and lay appreciative of his com- 
 fort of the surrounding space even of the light that 
 filtered through the curtain chinks, suggestive of a world 
 re-created. With day, all things seem possible to a 
 healthy man. He stretched his arms luxuriously, de- 
 lighting in the glossy smoothness of the linen sheets. 
 
 What was it Chilcote had said? Better live for a day 
 than exist for a lifetime! That was true; and life had 
 begun. At thirty-six he was to know it for the first 
 time. 
 
 He smiled, but without irony. Man is at his best at 
 thirty-six, he mused. He has retained his enthusiasms 
 and shed his exuberances; he has learned what to pick 
 up and what to pass by; he no longer imagines that to 
 drain a cup one must taste the dregs. He closed his eyes 
 and stretched again not his arms only this time, but his 
 whole body. The pleasure of his mental state insisted 
 on a physical reflection. Then, sitting up in bed, fie 
 pressed the electric bell. 
 
 Chilcote's new valet responded. 
 
 " Pull those curtains, Renwick," he said. " What's 
 the time ? " He had passed the ordeal of Renwick's eyes 
 the night before. 
 
 The man was slow even a little stupid. He drew 
 back the curtains carefully, then looked at the small clock 
 on the dressing-table.
 
 70 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 "Eight o'clock sir. I didn't expect the bell so early, 
 sir." 
 
 Loder felt reproved, and a pause followed. 
 
 " May I bring your cup of tea, sir ? " 
 
 " No. Not just yet. I'll have a bath first." 
 
 Renwick showed ponderous uncertainty. 
 
 " Warm, sir ? " he hazarded. 
 
 " No. Cold." 
 
 Still perplexed, the man left the room. 
 
 Loder smiled to himself. The chances of discovery in 
 that quarter were not large. He was inclined to think 
 that Chilcote had even overstepped necessity in the mat- 
 ter of dulness. 
 
 He breakfasted alone, following Chilcote's habit, and 
 after breakfast found his way to the study. 
 
 As he entered, Greening rose with the same concilia- 
 tory haste that he had shown the night before. 
 
 Loder nodded to him. "Early at work?" he said 
 pleasantly. 
 
 The little man showed instant, almost ridiculous re- 
 lief. " Good morning, sir," he said ; " you are early, too. 
 I rather feared your nerves troubled you after I left last 
 night, for I found your letters still unopened this morn- 
 ing. But I am glad to see you look so well." 
 
 Loder promptly turned his back to the light. " Oh, 
 last night's letters ! " he said. " To tell you the truth, 
 Greening, my wife " his hesitation was very slight 
 " my wife looked me up after you left, and we gossiped. 
 I clean forgot the post." He smiled in an explanatory 
 way as he moved to the desk and picked up the letters. 
 
 With Greening's eyes upon him, there was no time for 
 scruples. With very creditable coolness he began open- 
 ing the envelopes one by one. The letters were unim- 
 portant, and he passed them, one after another, to the 
 secretary, experiencing a slight thrill of authority as each 
 left his hand. Again the fact that power is visible in 
 little things came to his mind. 
 
 " Give me my engagement-book, Greening," he said, 
 when the letters had been disposed of. 
 
 The book that Greening handed him was neat in shape,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 71 
 
 and bound, like Chilcote's cigarette-case, in lizard-skin. 
 As Loder took it, the gold monogram " J. C." winked at 
 him in the light of the bright morning. The incident 
 moved his sense of humor. He and the book were co- 
 operators in the fraud, it seemed. He felt an inclination 
 to wink back. Nevertheless he opened the book with 
 correct gravity and skimmed the pages. 
 
 The page devoted to the day was almost full. On 
 every other line were jottings in Chilcote's irregular 
 hand, and twice amongst the entries appeared a promi- 
 nent cross in blue penciling. Loder's interest quickened 
 as his eye caught the mark. It had been agreed that only 
 engagements essential to Chilcote's public life need be 
 carried through during his absence and these, to save 
 confusion, were to be crossed in blue pencil. The rest 
 for the most part social claims were to be left to cir- 
 cumstance and Loder's inclination; Chilcote's erratic 
 memory always accounting for the breaking of trivial 
 promises. 
 
 But Loder in his new energy was anxious for obliga- 
 tions ; the desire for fresh tests grew with indulgence. 
 He scanned the two lines with eagerness. The first was 
 an interview with Cressham, one of Chilcote's supporters 
 in Wark, the other an engagement to lunch with Fraide. 
 At the idea of the former his interest quickened, but at 
 the thought of the latter it quailed momentarily. Had 
 the entry been a royal command it would have affected 
 him infinitely less. For a space his assurance faltered ; 
 then, by coincidence, the recollection of Eve and Eve's 
 words of last night came back to him, and his mind was 
 filled with a new sensation. 
 
 Because of Chilcote, he was despised by Chilcote's 
 wife ! There was no denying that in all the pleasant ex- 
 citement of the adventure that knowledge rankled. It 
 came back to him linked with the remembrance of the 
 slight reluctant touch of her fingers, the faintly evasive 
 dislike underlying her glance. It was a trivial thing 
 but it touched his pride as a man. That was how he put 
 it to himself. It wasn't that he valued this woman's 
 opinion any woman's opinion it was merely that it
 
 72 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 touched his pride. He turned again to the window and 
 gazed out, the engagement-book still between his hands. 
 What if he compelled her respect? What if by his own 
 personality, cloaked under Chilcote's identity, he forced 
 her to admit his capability? It was a matter of pride 
 scarcely even pride ; self-respect was a better word. 
 
 Satisfied by his own reasoning, he turned back into 
 the room. 
 
 " See to those letters, Greening," he said. " And for 
 the rest of the morning's work, you might go on with 
 your Khorasan notes. I believe we'll want every inch 
 of knowledge we can get in that quarter before we're 
 much older. I'll see you again later." With a reassur- 
 ing nod he crossed the room and passed through the 
 door. 
 
 He lunched with Fraide at his club, and afterward 
 walked with him to Westminster. The walk and lunch 
 were both memorable. In that hour he learned many 
 things that had been sealed to him before. He tasted 
 his first draught of real elation, his first drop of real dis- 
 comfiture. He saw for the first time how a great man 
 may condescend how unostentatiously, how fully, how 
 delightfully. He felt what tact and kindness perfectly 
 combined may accomplish, and he burned inwardly with 
 a sense of duplicity that crushed and elated him alter- 
 nately. He was John Loder friendless, penniless, witR 
 no present and no future yet he walked down White- 
 hall in the full light of day with one of the greatest states- 
 men England has known. 
 
 Some strangers were being shown over the Terrace 
 when he and Fraide reached the House, and noticing the 
 open door, the old man paused. 
 
 " I never refuse fresh air," he said. " Shall we take 
 another breath of it before settling down ? " He took 
 Loder's arm and drew him forward. As they passed 
 through the doorway the pressure of his fingers tight- 
 ened. 
 
 " I shall reckon to-day amongst my pleasantest mem- 
 ories, Chilcote," he said gravely. " I can't explain the 
 feeling, but I seem to have touched Eve's husband the
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 73 
 
 real you more closely this morning than I ever did be- 
 fore. It has been a genuine happiness." He looked up 
 with the eyes that, through all his years of action and 
 responsibility, had remained so bright. 
 
 But Loder paled suddenly and his glance turned to the 
 river wide, mysterious, secret. Unconsciously Fraide 
 had stripped his illusions. It was not John Loder who 
 walked here ; it was Chilcote, Chilcote with his posi- 
 tion, his constituency, his wife. He half extricated his 
 arm, but Fraide held it. 
 
 " No," he said. " Don't draw away from me. You 
 have always been too ready to do that. It is not often 
 that I have a pleasant truth to tell. I won't be deprived 
 of the enjoyment." He smiled. 
 
 "Can truth ever be pleasant, sir?" Involuntarily 
 Loder echoed Chilcote. 
 
 Fraide looked up. He was half a head shorter than 
 his companion, though his dignity concealed the fact 
 " Chilcote," he said seriously, " give up cynicism. It is 
 the trade-mark of failure, and I do not like it in my 
 friends." 
 
 Loder said nothing. The quiet insight of the reproof, 
 its mitigating kindness, touched him sharply. In that 
 moment he saw the rails down which he had sent his lit- 
 tle car of existence spinning and the sight daunted him. 
 The track was steeper, the gauge narrower than he had 
 guessed; there were curves and sidings upon which he 
 had not reckoned. He turned his head and met Fraide's 
 glance. 
 
 " Don't count too much on me, sir," he said slowly. 
 " I might disappoint you again." His voice broke off on 
 the last word, for the sound of voices and laughter came 
 to them across the Terrace, as a group of two women 
 and three men passed through the open door. At a 
 glance he realized that the slighter of the two women 
 was Eve. 
 
 Seeing them, she disengaged herself from her party 
 and came quickly forward. Loder saw her cheeks flush 
 and her eyes brighten pleasantly as they rested on his
 
 74 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 companion; but he noticed also that, after her first 
 cursory glance, she avoided his own direction. 
 
 As she came toward them, Fraide drew away his hand 
 in readiness to greet her. 
 
 " Here comes my godchild ! " he said. " I often wish, 
 Chilcote, that I could do away with the prefix." He 
 added the last words in an undertone ; then, as she 
 reached them, he responded warmly to her smile. 
 " What ! " he said. " Turning the Terrace into the Gar- 
 den of Eden in January ! We cannot allow this." 
 
 Eve laughed. " Blame Lady Sarah ! " she said. " We 
 met at lunch and she carried me off. Needless to say, I 
 hadn't to ask where ? " 
 
 They both laughed, and Loder joined a little uncer- 
 tainly. He had yet to learn that the devotion of Fraide 
 and his wife was a long-standing jest in their particular 
 set. 
 
 At the sound of his tardy laugh Eve turned to him. " I 
 hope I didn't rob you of all sleep last night," she said. 
 " I caught him in his den," she explained to Fraide, " and 
 invaded it most courageously. I believe we talked till 
 two." 
 
 Again Loder noticed how quickly she looked from 
 him to Fraide. The knowledge roused his self-asser- 
 tion. 
 
 " I had an excellent night," he said. " Do I look as if 
 I hadn't slept?" 
 
 Somewhat slowly and reluctantly Eve looked back. 
 " No," she said truthfully, and with a faint surprise that 
 to Loder seemed the first genuine emotion she had shown 
 regarding him. " No. I don't think I ever saw you 
 look so well." She was quite unconscious and very 
 charming as she made the admission. It struck him that 
 her coloring of hair and eyes gained by daylight were 
 brightened and vivified by their setting of sombre river 
 and sombre stone. 
 
 Fraide smiled at her affectionately, then looked at 
 Loder. " Chilcote has got a new lease of nerves, Eve," 
 he said quietly. " And I believe I have got a new 
 henchman. But I see my wife beckoning to me. I must
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 75 
 
 have a word with her before she flits away. May I be 
 excused ? " He made a courteous gesture of apology. 
 
 Eve looked after him as he moved away. " I some- 
 times wonder what I should do, if anything were to 
 happen to the Fraides," she said a little wistfully. But 
 almost at once she laughed, as if regretting her im- 
 pulsiveness. 
 
 " I heard what he said," she went on in a different 
 voice. " Am I really to congratulate you ? " 
 
 The change of tone stung Loder unaccountably. 
 " Will you always disbelieve in me ? " he said. 
 
 Without answering she walked slowly across the 
 deserted Terrace, and pausing by the parapet, laid her 
 hand on the stone-work. Still in silence she looked out 
 across the river the slight breeze that blew across it 
 stirring her hair. 
 
 Loder had followed closely. Again her aloofness 
 seemed a challenge. " Will you always disbelieve in 
 me ? " he repeated. 
 
 At last she looked up at him, slowly and with some 
 surprise. 
 
 " Have you given me cause to believe ? " she asked 
 in a quiet voice. 
 
 To this truth he found no answer, though the sub- 
 dued incredulity nettled him still more. 
 
 Prompted to a further effort, he spoke again. " Pa- 
 tience is necessary with every person and every circum- 
 stance," he said. " We've all got to wait and see." 
 
 She did not lower her gaze as he spoke, and there 
 seemed to him something almost disconcerting in the 
 clear, candid blue of her eyes. With a sudden dread 
 of her next words, he moved forward and laid his hand 
 beside hers on the parapet. 
 
 " Patience is needed for every one," he said. " Some- 
 times a man is like a bit of wreckage; he drifts till 
 some force stronger than himself gets in his way and 
 stops him." He looked again at her face. He scarcely 
 knew what he was saying; he only felt that he was a 
 man in an egregiously false position, trying stupidly 
 to justify himself.
 
 76 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Don't you believe that flotsam can sometimes be 
 washed ashore ? " he asked. 
 
 High above them Big Ben chimed sonorously. 
 
 Eve raised her head. It almost seemed to Loder that 
 he could see her answer trembling on her lips; then the 
 voice of Lady Sarah Fraide came cheerfully from be- 
 hind them. 
 
 " Eve ! " she called. " Eve ! We must fly. Can you 
 believe it, it's absolutely three o'clock." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 In the days that followed Fraide's marked adoption 
 of him, Loder behaved with a discretion that spoke 
 well for his qualities. Many a man placed in the same 
 responsible and yet strangely irresponsible position 
 might have been excused if, for the time being, he gave 
 himself a loose rein. But Loder kept free of the temp- 
 tation. 
 
 Like all other experiments, his showed unlooked-for 
 features when put to a working test. Its expected dif- 
 ficulties smoothed themselves away, while others, 
 scarcely anticipated, came into prominence. Most not- 
 ably, the physical likeness between himself and Chil- 
 cote the universal factor and bed-rock of the scheme 
 which had been counted upon to offer most danger, 
 worked without a hitch. He stood literally amazed be- 
 fore the sweeping credulity that met him upon every 
 hand. Men who had known Chilcote from his youth 
 servants who had been in his employment for years 
 all joined issue in the unquestioning acceptance. At 
 times the ease of the deception bewildered him: there 
 were moments when he realized that should circum- 
 stances force him to a declaration of the truth he would 
 not be believed. Human nature prefers its own eye- 
 sight to the testimony of any man. 
 
 But in face of this astonishing success he steered a 
 steady course. In the first exhilaration of Fraide's
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 77 
 
 favor, in the first egotistical wish to break Eve's scepti- 
 cism, he might possibly have plunged into the vortex of 
 action let it be in what direction it might; but fortu- 
 nately for himself, for Chilcote and for their scheme, he 
 was liable to strenuous second thoughts those wise and 
 necessary curbs that go further to the steadying of the 
 universe than the universe guesses. Sitting in the quiet 
 of the House on the same day that he had spoken with 
 Eve on the Terrace, he had weighed possibilities slowly 
 and cautiously. Impressed to the full by the atmosphere 
 of the place that in his eyes could never lack character, 
 however dull its momentary business, however prosy the 
 voice that filled it he had sifted impulse from expedi- 
 ence as only a man who has lived within himself can 
 sift and distinguish. And at the close of tfiat first day 
 his programme had been formed. There must be no 
 rush, no headlong plunge, he had decided ; things must 
 work round. It was his first expedition into the new 
 country, and it lay with Fate to say whether it would 
 be his last. 
 
 He had been leaning back in his seat, his eyes on the 
 Ministers opposite, his arms folded in imitation of Chil- 
 cote, when this final speculation had come to him; and 
 as it came his lips had tightened for a moment, his face 
 had become hard and cold. It is an unpleasant thing 
 when a man first unconsciously speculates on the weak- 
 ness of another, and the look that expresses the idea 
 is not good to see. Loder had stirred uneasily, then his 
 lips had closed again. He was tenacious by nature, and 
 by nature intolerant of weakness. At the first idea of 
 reckoning upon Chilcote's lapses his mind had shrunk 
 back in disgust; but as the thought came again the dis- 
 gust had lessened. 
 
 In a week two weeks, perhaps Chilcote would re- 
 claim his place. Then would begin the routine of the 
 affair. Chilcote, fresh from indulgence and freedom, 
 would find his obligations a thousand times more irk- 
 some than before; he would struggle for a time, 
 then
 
 78 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 A shadowy smile had touched Loder's lips as the idea 
 formed itself. 
 
 Then would come the inevitable recall ; then in earn- 
 est he might venture to put his hand to the plough. 
 He never indulged in day-dreams, but something in the 
 nature of a vision had flashed over his mind in that 
 instant. He had seen himself standing in that same 
 building, seen the rows of faces, first bored, then hesi- 
 tatingly transformed under his personal domination, un- 
 der the one great power he knew himself to possess 
 the power of eloquence. The strength of the sugges- 
 tion had been almost painful. Men who have attained 
 self-repression are occasionally open to a perilous on- 
 rush of feeling. Believing that they know themselves, 
 they walk boldly forward towards the highroad and the 
 pitfall alike. 
 
 These had been his disconnected ideas and specula- 
 tions on the first day of his new life. At four o'clock 
 on the ninth day he was pacing with quiet confidence 
 up and down Chilcote's study, his mind pleasantly busy 
 and his cigar comfortably alight, when he paused in his 
 walk and frowned interrupted by the entrance of a 
 servant. 
 
 The man came softly into the room, drew a small 
 table towards the fire, and proceeded to lay an extremely 
 fine and unserviceable-looking cloth. 
 
 Loder watched him in silence. He had grown to find 
 silence a very useful commodity. To wait and let things 
 develop was the attitude he oftenest assumed. But on 
 this occasion he was perplexed. He had not rung for 
 tea, and in any case a cup on a salver would have satis- 
 fied his wants. He looked critically at the fragile cloth. 
 
 Presently the servant departed and solemnly re-entered, 
 carrying a silver tray, with cups, a teapot, and numer- 
 ous dishes of cake. Having adjusted these to his satis- 
 faction, he turned to Loder. 
 
 " Mrs. Chilcote will be with you in five minutes, sir," 
 he said. 
 
 He waited for some response, but Loder gave none. 
 Again he found the advantages of silence, but this time
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 79 
 
 it was silence of a compulsory kind. He had nothing to 
 say. 
 
 The man, finding him irresponsive, retired. And left 
 to himself, Loder stared at the array of feminine trifles ; 
 then, turning abruptly, moved to the center of the room. 
 
 Since the day they had talked on the Terrace, he had 
 only seen Eve thrice and always in the presence of others. 
 Since the night of his first coming, she had not invaded 
 his domain, and he wondered what this new departure 
 might mean. 
 
 His thought of her had been less vivid in the last 
 few days; for, though still using steady discretion, he 
 had been drawn gradually nearer the fascinating whirl- 
 pool of new interests and new work. Shut his eyes to it 
 as he might, there was no denying that this moment so 
 personally vital to him was politically vital to the whole 
 country; and that, by a curious coincidence, Chilcote's 
 position wellnigh forced him to take an active interest 
 in the situation. Again and again the suggestion had 
 arisen that, should the smouldering fire in Persia break 
 into a flame, Chilcote's commercial interests would facili- 
 tate, would practically compel his standing in in the cam- 
 paign against the Government. 
 
 The little incident of the tea-table, recalling the social 
 side of his obligations, roused the realization of greater 
 things. As he stood meditatively in the middle of the 
 room, he saw suddenly how absorbed he had become 
 in these greater things. How in the swing of con- 
 genial interests he had been borne forward his capac- 
 ities expanding, his intelligence asserting itself. He had 
 so undeniably found his sphere that the idea of usurpa- 
 tion had receded gently as by natural laws, and insensi- 
 bly his own personality had begun to color the day's 
 work. 
 
 As this knowledge came, he wondered quickly if it 
 held a solution to the present little comedy; if Eve had 
 seen what others, he knew, had observed that Chilcote 
 was showing a grasp of things such as he had not exhib- 
 ited for years. As a sound of skirts came softly down
 
 80 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 the corridor, he squared his shoulders with his habitual 
 abrupt gesture and threw his cigar into the fire. 
 
 Eve entered the room much as she had done on her 
 former visit with this difference, that in passing Loder, 
 she quietly held out her hand. 
 
 He took it as quietly. " Why am I so honored ? " he 
 said. 
 
 She laughed a little and looked across at the fire. 
 " How like a man ! You always want to begin with 
 reasons. Let's have tea first and explanations after." 
 She moved forward towards the table, and Loder fol- 
 lowed. As he did so, it struck him that her dress seemed 
 in peculiar harmony with the day and the room, though 
 beyond that he could not follow its details. As she 
 paused beside the table, he drew forward a chair with 
 a faint touch of awkwardness. 
 
 She thanked him and sat down. 
 
 He watched her in silence as she poured out the tea, 
 and the thought crossed his mind that it was incredibly 
 long since he had seen a woman preside over a meal. 
 The deftness of her fingers filled him with an unfamil- 
 iar, half-inquisitive wonder. And so interesting was the 
 sensation that, when she held his cup towards him, he 
 didn't immediately see it. 
 
 " Don't you want any ? " She smiled a little. 
 
 He started, embarrassed by his own tardiness. " I'm 
 afraid I'm dull," he said. "I've been so " 
 
 " So keen a worker in the last week," she suggested. 
 
 For a moment he felt relieved. Then, as silence fell 
 again, his sense of awkwardness returned. He sipped 
 his tea and ate a biscuit. He found himself wishing, 
 for almost the first time in his life, for some of the small 
 society talk that came so pleasantly to other men. He 
 felt that the position was ridiculous. He glanced at 
 Eve's averted head, and laid his empty cup upon the 
 table. 
 
 Almost at once she turned and their eyes met. 
 
 " John," she said, " do you guess at all why I wanted 
 to have tea with you ? "
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 81 
 
 He looked down at her. " No," he said honestly and 
 without embellishment. 
 
 The curtness of the answer might have displeased 
 another woman. Eve seemed to take no offense. 
 
 " I had a talk with the Fraides to-day," she said 
 " a long talk. Mr. Fraide said great things of you 
 things I wouldn't have believed from anybody but Mr. 
 Fraide." She altered her position and looked from Lod- 
 er's face back into the fire. 
 
 He took a step forward. " What things ? " he said. 
 He was almost ashamed at the sudden, inordinate satis- 
 faction that welled up at her words. 
 
 " Oh, I mustn't tell you." She laughed a little. " But 
 you have surprised him." She paused, sipped her tea, 
 then looked up with a change of expression. 
 
 " John," she said more seriously, " there is one point 
 that sticks a little. Will this great change last ? " Her 
 voice was direct and even wonderfully direct for a 
 woman, Locler thought. It came to him with a certain 
 force that beneath her remarkable charm there might 
 possibly lie a remarkable character. It was not a pos- 
 sibility that had occurred to him before, and it caused 
 him to look at her a second time. In the new light he 
 saw her beauty differently, and it interested him dif- 
 ferently. Heretofore he had been inclined to class women 
 under three heads idols, amusements or encumbrances ; 
 now it crossed his mind that a woman might possibly 
 fill another place the place of a companion. 
 
 " You are very skeptical," he said, still looking down 
 at her. 
 
 She did not return his glance. " I think I have been 
 made skeptical," she said, studying the pattern on her 
 cup. 
 
 As she spoke the image of Chilcote shot through 
 Loder's mind. 
 
 Chilcote irritable, vicious, unstable ; and a quick com- 
 passion for this woman, so inevitably shackled to him, 
 followed it. 
 
 Eve, unconscious of what was passing in his mind, 
 spoke again.
 
 82 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " When we were married," she said gently, " I had 
 such a great interest in things, such a great belief in 
 life. I had lived in politics, and I was marrying one of 
 the coming men everybody said you were one of the 
 coming men. I scarcely felt there was anything left to 
 ask for. You didn't make very ardent love," she smiled ; 
 " but I think I had forgotten about love. I wanted noth- 
 ing so much as to be like Lady Sarah married to a 
 great man." She paused. " For a while things went 
 right; then slowly things went wrong. You got your 
 your nerves." 
 
 Loder changed his position with something of abrupt- 
 ness. 
 
 She misconstrued the action. 
 
 " Please don't think I want to be disagreeable," she 
 said hastily. " I don't. I'm only trying to make you 
 understand why why I lost heart." 
 
 " I think I know," Loder's voice broke in involun- 
 tarily. " Things got worse then still worse. You 
 found interference useless; at last you ceased to have a 
 husband." 
 
 " Until a week ago " She glanced up quickly. 
 
 Absorbed in her own feelings, she had seen nothing 
 extraordinary in his words. 
 
 But at hers, Loder changed color. 
 
 " It's the most incredible thing in the world," she said. 
 " It's quite incredible, and yet I can't deny it. Against 
 all my reason all my experience all my inclination, I 
 seem to feel in the last week something of what I felt at 
 first." She stopped with an embarrassed laugh. " It 
 seems that, as if by magic, life had been picked up where 
 I dropped it six years ago." Again she stopped and 
 laughed. 
 
 Loder was keenly uncomfortable, but he could think 
 of nothing to say. 
 
 " It seemed to begin that night I dined with the 
 Fraides," she went on. " Mr. Fraide talked so wisely and 
 so kindly about many things. He recalled all we had 
 hoped for in you, and and he blamed me a little." She 
 paused and laid her cup aside. " He said that when peo-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 83 
 
 pie have made what they call their last effort, they 
 should always make just one effort more. He prom- 
 ised that if I could once persuade you to take an inter- 
 est in your work, he would do the rest. He said all 
 that, and a thousand other kinder things and I sat and 
 listened. But all the time I thought of nothing but the 
 uselessness of his. words. Before I left I promised him 
 to do my best, but my thought was still the same. It 
 was stronger than ever when I forced myself to come 
 
 up here " She paused again, and glanced at Loder's 
 
 averted head. 
 
 " But I came, and then as if by conquering myself 
 I had compelled a reward, you seemed you somehow 
 seemed different. It sounds ridiculous, I know." Her 
 voice was half amused, half deprecating. " It wasn't a 
 difference in your face, though I knew directly that you 
 were free from nerves." Again she hesitated over the 
 word. " It was a difference in yourself in the things 
 you said, more than in the way you said them." Once 
 more she paused and laughed a little. 
 
 Loder's discomfort grew. 
 
 " But it didn't affect me then." She spoke more 
 slowly. " I wouldn't admit it then. And next day, when 
 we talked on the Terrace, I still refused to admit it 
 though I felt it more strongly than before. But I have 
 watched you since that day, and I know there is a change. 
 Mr. Fraide feels the same and he is never mistaken. I 
 know it's only nine or ten days; but I've hardly seen 
 you in the same mood for nine or ten hours in the last 
 three years " She stopped, and the silence was ex- 
 pressive. It seemed to plead for confirmation of her 
 instinct. 
 
 Still Loder could find no response. 
 
 After waiting for a moment, she leant forward in her 
 chair and looked up at him. 
 
 " John," she said, " is it going to last ? That's what 
 I came to ask. I don't want to believe till I'm sure; I 
 don't want to risk a new disappointment." Loder felt 
 the earnestness of her gaze, though he avoided meeting 
 it.
 
 84 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " I couldn't have said this to you a week ago, but to- 
 day I can. I don't pretend to explain the feeling is 
 inexplicable. I only know that I can say it now, and that 
 I couldn't a week ago. Will you understand and an- 
 swer ? " 
 
 Still Loder remained mute. His position was horribly 
 incongruous. What could he say? What dared he 
 say? 
 
 Confused by his silence, Eve rose. 
 
 " If it's only a phase don't try to hide it," she said. 
 " But if it's going to last if by any possibility it's going 
 to last " She hesitated and again looked up. 
 
 She was quite close to him. He would have been less 
 than man had he been unconscious of the subtle con- 
 tact of her glance, the nearness of her presence and 
 no one had ever hinted that manhood was lacking in 
 him. It was a moment of temptation. His own energy, 
 his own intentions seemed so near; Chilcote and Chil- 
 cote's claims so distant and unreal. After all, his life, 
 his ambitions, his determinations were his own. He lifted 
 his eyes and looked at Eve. 
 
 " You want me to tell you that I will go on ? " he 
 said. 
 
 Her eye brightened ; she took a step forward. " Yes," 
 she said, " I want it more than anything in the world." 
 
 There was a wait. The declaration that would satisfy 
 her came to Loder's lips, but he delayed it. The delay 
 was fateful. While he stood silent the door opened and 
 the servant who had brought in tea reappeared. 
 
 He crossed the room and handed Loder a telegram. 
 " Any answer, sir ? " he said. 
 
 Eve moved back to her chair. There was a flush on 
 her cheeks and her eyes were still alertly bright. 
 
 Loder tore the telegram open, read it, then threw it 
 into the fire. 
 
 " No answer," he said laconically. 
 
 At the brusqueness of his voice, Eve looked up. " Dis- 
 agreeable news ? " she said as the servant departed. 
 
 Loder didn't look at her. He was watching the tele- 
 gram withering in the center of the fire.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 85 
 
 " No," he said at last in a strained voice. " No. Only 
 news that I that I had forgotten to expect." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 There was a silence an uneasy break after Loder 
 spoke. The episode of the telegram was to all appear- 
 ances ordinary enough, calling forth Eve's question and 
 his own reply as a natural sequence; yet in the pause 
 that followed it each was conscious of a jar, each was 
 aware that in some subtle way the thread of sympathy 
 had been dropped though to one the cause was in- 
 explicable and to the other only too plain. 
 
 Loder watched the ghost of his message grow whiter 
 and thinner, then dissolve into airy fragments and flut- 
 ter up the chimney. As the last morsel wavered out of 
 sight, he turned and looked at his companion. 
 
 " You almost made me commit myself," he said. In 
 the desire to hide his feelings, his tone was short. 
 
 Eve returned his glance with a quiet regard, but he 
 scarcely saw it. He had a stupefied sense of disaster, a 
 feeling of bitter self-commiseration that for the mo- 
 ment outweighed all other considerations. Almost at the 
 moment of justification the good of life had crumbled in 
 his fingers, the soil had given way beneath his feet; and 
 with an absence of logic, a lack of justice unusual in 
 him, he let resentment against Chilcote sweep suddenly 
 over his mind. 
 
 Eve, still watching him, saw the darkening of his 
 expression, and with a quiet movement rose from her 
 chair. 
 
 " Lady Sarah has a theatre-party to-night, and I am 
 dining with her," she said. " It is an early dinner, so I 
 must think about dressing. I'm sorry if you think I 
 tried to draw you into anything. I must have explained 
 myself badly." She laughed a little to cover the slight 
 discomfiture that her tone betrayed, and as she laughed 
 she moved across the room towards the door.
 
 86 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Loder, engrossed in the check to his own schemes, 
 incensed at the suddenness of Chilcote's recall, and still 
 more incensed at his own folly in not having anticipated 
 it, was oblivious for the moment of both her movement 
 and her words. Then quite abruptly they obtruded 
 themselves upon him, breaking through his egotism with 
 something of the sharpness of pain following a blow. 
 Turning quickly from the fireplace, he faced the shad- 
 owy room across which she had passed; but simultane- 
 ously with his turning he heard the door close. 
 
 The knowledge that she was gone struck him with a 
 sense of loss. " Wait ! " he called, suddenly moving 
 forward. But almost at once he paused, chilled by the 
 solitude of the room. 
 
 The blow had fallen, the inevitable come to pass, and 
 nothing remained but to take the fact with as good a 
 grace as possible. Chilcote's telegram had summoned 
 him to Clifford's Inn at seven o'clock, and it was now 
 well on towards six. He pulled out his watch Chil- 
 cote's watch, he realized with a touch of grim humor, 
 as he stooped to examine the dial by the light of the 
 fire. Then, as if the humor had verged to another feel- 
 ing, he stood straight again and felt for the electric but- 
 ton in the wall. His fingers touched it, and immediately 
 the room was lighted. 
 
 The abrupt alteration from shadow to light came almost 
 as a shock. The feminine arrangement of the tea-table 
 seemed incongruous beside the sober books and the desk 
 laden with papers incongruous as his own presence in 
 the place. The thought was unpleasant, and he turned 
 aside as if to avoid it ; but at the movement his eyes fell 
 on Chilcote's cigarette box with its gleaming mono- 
 gram, and the whimsical suggestion of his first morning 
 rose again. The idea that the inanimate objects in the 
 room knew him for what he was recognized the inter- 
 loper where human eyes saw the rightful possessor 
 returned to his mind. Through all his disgust and 
 chagrin a smile forced itself to his lips, and crossing the 
 room for the second time he passed into Chilcote's bed- 
 room.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 87 
 
 There the massive furniture and somber atmosphere 
 fitted better with his mood than the energy and action 
 which the study always suggested. Walking directly to 
 the great bed, he sat upon its side, and for several min- 
 utes stared straight in front of him apparently seeing 
 nothing: then at last the apathy passed from him, as his 
 previous anger against Chilcote had passed. He stood 
 up slowly, drawing his long limbs together, and re- 
 crossed the room, passing along the corridor and through 
 the door communicating with the rest of the house. Five 
 minutes later he was in the open air and walking steadily 
 eastward, his hat drawn forward and his overcoat but- 
 toned up. 
 
 As he traversed the streets he allowed himself no 
 time for thought. Once, as he waited in Trafalgar 
 Square to find a passage between the vehicles, the remem- 
 brance of Chilcote's voice coming out of the fog on their 
 first meeting made itself prominent, but he rejected it 
 quickly guarding himself from even an involuntary 
 glance at the place of their encounter. The Strand, 
 with its unceasing life, came to him as something almost 
 unfamiliar. Since his identification with the new life, 
 no business had drawn him east of Charing Cross, and 
 his first sight of the narrower stream of traffic struck him 
 as garish and unpleasant. As the impression came he 
 accelerated his steps, moved by the wish to make regret 
 and retrospection alike impossible by a contact with act- 
 ual forces. 
 
 Still walking hastily, he entered Clifford's Inn, but 
 there almost unconsciously his feet halted. There was 
 something in the quiet immutability of the place that 
 sobered energy, both mental and physical. A sense of 
 changelessness the changelessness of inanimate things, 
 that rises in such solemn contrast to the variableness of 
 mere human nature which a new environment, a new 
 outlook, sometimes even a new presence has power to 
 upheave and remould. He paused; then with slower 
 and steadier steps crossed the little court and mounted 
 the familiar stairs of his own house. 
 
 As he turned the handle of his own door, some one
 
 88 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 stirred in the sitting-room. Still under the influence of 
 the stones and trees that he had just left, he moved 
 directly towards the sound, and without waiting for per- 
 mission entered the room. After the darkness of the 
 passage it seemed well alight, for, beside the lamp with 
 its green shade, a large fire burned in the grate and 
 helped to dispel the shadows. 
 
 As he entered, Chilcote rose and came forward, his 
 figure thrown into strong relief by the double light. 
 He was dressed in a shabby suit, his face looked pale 
 and set, with a slightly nervous tension; but except for 
 the look and a certain added restlessness of glance, there 
 was no visible change. Reaching Loder, he held out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Well?" he said quickly. 
 
 The other looked at him questioningly. 
 
 " Well? " he repeated. " Well, how has it gone? " 
 
 " The scheme ? Oh, excellently." Loder's manner 
 was abrupt. Turning from the restless curiosity in 'Chil- 
 cote's eyes, he moved a little way across the room and 
 began to draw off his coat. Then struck by the inci- 
 vility of the action, he looked back again. " The scheme 
 has gone extraordinarily," he said. " I could almost say 
 absurdly. There are some things, Chilcote, that fairly 
 bowl a man over and this is one." 
 
 A great relief tinged Chilcote's face. 
 
 " Good ! " he exclaimed. " Good ! Tell me all about 
 it." 
 
 But Loder was reticent. The moment was not 
 propitious. It was as if a hungry man had dreamed a 
 great banquet and had awakened to his starvation. He 
 was chary of imparting his visions. 
 
 " There's nothing to tell," he said shortly. " All that 
 you'll want to know is here in black and white. I don't 
 think you'll find I have slipped anything; it's a clear 
 business record." From an inner pocket he drew a bulky 
 note-book, and recrossing the room, laid it open on the 
 table. It was a correct record of every action that had 
 been accomplished in Chilcote's name.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 89 
 
 " I don't think you'll find any loose ends," he said 
 as he turned the pages. " I had you and your position 
 in my mind all through." He paused and glanced up 
 from the book. " You have a position that absolutely 
 insists upon attention," he added in a different voice. 
 
 At the new tone Chilcote looked up as well. " No 
 moral lectures ! " he said with a nervous laugh. " I 
 was anxious to know if you had pulled it off, and you 
 have reassured me. That's enough. I was in a funk 
 this afternoon to know how things were going one of 
 those sudden, unreasonable funks. But now that I see 
 
 you " He cut himself short, and laughed once more. 
 
 " Now that I see you, I'm hanged if I don't want to 
 to prolong your engagement." 
 
 Loder glanced at him, then glanced away. He felt 
 a quick shame at the eagerness that rose at the words 
 a surprised contempt at his own readiness to anticipate 
 the other's weakness. But almost as speedily as he had 
 turned away he looked back again. 
 
 " Tush, man ! " he said with his old intolerant manner. 
 " You're dreaming. You've had your holiday and 
 school's begun again. You must remember you are 
 dining with the Charringtons to-night. Young Charring- 
 tons' coming of age quite a big business. Come along ! 
 I want my clothes." He laughed, and moving closer to 
 Chilcote, slapped him on the shoulder. 
 
 Chilcote started; then, suddenly becoming imbued 
 with the other's manner, he echoed the laugh. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said, " you're right ! You're quite 
 right! A man must keep his feet in their' own groove.'* 
 Raising his hand, he began to fumble with his tie. 
 
 But Loder retained his position. " You'll find the 
 cheque-book in its usual drawer," he said. I've made 
 one entry of a hundred pounds pay for the first week. 
 The rest can stand over until " He paused abruptly. 
 
 Chilcote shifted his position. " Don't talk about that. 
 It upsets me to anticipate. I can make out a cheque to- 
 morrow payable to John Loder." 
 
 " No. It can wait. The name of Loder is better out of
 
 90 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 the book; we can't be too careful." He spoke with un- 
 usual impetuosity. Already a slight, unreasonable 
 jealousy was coloring his thoughts. Already he grudged 
 the idea of Chilcote with his unstable glance and restless 
 fingers opening the drawers and sorting the papers that 
 for one stupendous fortnight had been his without ques- 
 tion. Turning aside, he changed the subject brusquely. 
 
 "Come into the bedroom," he said. "It's half-past seven 
 if it's a minute, and the Charringtons' show is at 
 nine." Without waiting for a reply, he walked across 
 the room and held the door open. 
 
 There was no silence while they exchanged clothes. 
 Loder talked continuously, sometimes in short curt sen- 
 tences, sometimes with ironic touches -of humor; he 
 talked until Chilcote, strangely affected by contact with 
 another personality after his weeks of solitude, fell under 
 his influence his excitement rising, his imagination 
 stirring at the novelty of change. At last, garbed once 
 more in the clothes of his own world, he passed from the 
 bedroom back into the sitting-room and there halted, 
 waiting for his companion. 
 
 Almost directly Loder followed. He came into the 
 room quietly, and moving at once to the table, picked up 
 the note-book that still lay there. 
 
 " I'm not going to preach," he began, " so you needn't 
 shut me up. But I'll say just one thing a thing that 
 will get said. Try and keep your hold ! Remember your 
 responsibilities and keep your hold ! " He spoke ener- 
 getically looking earnestly into Chilcote's eyes. He did 
 not realize it, but he was pleading for his own career. 
 
 Chilcote paled a little, as he always did in face of a 
 reality. Then he extended his hand. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said with a touch of hauteur, 
 " a man can generally be trusted to look after his own 
 life." 
 
 Extricating his hand immediately Loder had gripped 
 it, he turned towards the door, and without a word of 
 farewell passed into the little hall, leaving him alone in 
 the sitting-room.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 91 
 
 On the night of Chilcote's return to his own, Loder 
 tasted the lees of life poignantly for the first time. Be- 
 fore their curious compact had been entered upon he 
 had been, if not content, at least apathetic ; but with action 
 the apathy had been dispersed, never again to regain its 
 old position. 
 
 He realized with bitter certainty that his was no home- 
 coming. On entering Chilcote's house he had experienced 
 none of the unfamiliarity, none of the unsettled awkward- 
 ness, that assailed him now. There, he had almost 
 seemed the exile returning after many wanderings ; here, 
 in the atmosphere made common by years, he felt an 
 alien. It was illustrative of the man's character that 
 sentimentalities foundAjo place in his nature. Sentiments 
 were not lacking, though they lay out of sight, but sen- 
 timentalities he altogether denied. 
 
 Left alone in the sitting-room after Chilcote's depar- 
 ture, his first sensation was one of physical discomfort 
 and unfamiliarity. His own clothes with their worn 
 looseness brought no sense of friendliness such as some 
 men find in an old garment. Lounging and the clothes 
 that suggest lounging had no appeal for him. In his 
 eyes the garb that implies responsibility was symbolic, 
 and even inspiring. 
 
 And as with clothes, so with his actual surroundings. 
 Each detail of his room was familiar, but not one had 
 ever become intimately close. He had used the place for 
 years, but he had used it as he might a hotel ; and what- 
 ever of his household gods had come there with him re- 
 mained like himself on sufferance. His entrance into 
 Chilcote's surroundings had been altogether different. 
 Unknown to himself he had been in the position of a 
 modeler who, having moulded roughly in clay, is brought 
 into the studio of a finished sculptor. To his outward 
 vision everything had been new, but his inner sight had 
 leaped to instant understanding. Amid all the strange- 
 ness he had recognized the one essential the workshop, 
 the atmosphere, the home.
 
 92 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 On this first night of return he comprehended some- 
 thing of the reverse position ; and, comprehending, faced 
 the problem and fought with it. 
 
 He had made his bargain and must pay his share. 
 Weighing this, he looked about the room with a quiet 
 gaze. Then at last, as if finding the object sought for, 
 his eyes came round to the mantelpiece and rested on 
 the pipe-rack. The pipes stood precisely as he had left 
 them. He looked at them for a long time ; then an ironic 
 expression that was almost a smile touched his lips, and 
 crossing the room, he took the oldest and blackest from 
 its place and slowly filled it with tobacco. 
 
 With the first indrawn breath of smoke his attitude 
 unbent. Without conscious determination he had chosen 
 the one factor capable of easing his mood. A cigarette 
 is for the trivial moments of life ; a cigar for its fulfill- 
 ments, its pleasant comfortable retrospections ; but in 
 real distress in the solving of a question, the fighting 
 of a difficulty a pipe is man's eternal solace. 
 
 So he passed the first night of his return to the 
 actualities of life. Next day his mind had somewhat 
 settled and outward aid was not so essential ; but though 
 facts faced him more solidly they were nevertheless very 
 drab in shade. The necessity for work that blessed anti- 
 dote to ennui no longer forced him to endeavor. He 
 was no longer penniless; but the money he possessed 
 brought with it no desire to spend. When a man has lived 
 from hand to mouth for years, and suddenly finds himself 
 with a hundred pounds in his pocket, the result is some- 
 times curious. He finds with a vague sense of surprise 
 that he has forgotten how to spend. That extravagance, 
 like other artificial passions, requires cultivation. 
 
 This Loder realized more fully as one day succeeded 
 another, and with it was born a new bitterness. The man 
 who has friends and no money may find life difficult, but 
 the man who has money and no friend to rejoice in his 
 fortune or benefit by his generosity is aloof indeed. With 
 the leaven of incredulity that works in all strong natures, 
 he distrusted the professional beggar consequently the 
 charity that bestows easily and promiscuously was denied
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. $3 
 
 him; and of other channels of generosity he was too 
 self-contained to have learned the secret. 
 
 When depression falls upon a man of usually even 
 temperament it descends with a double weight. The 
 mercurial nature has a hundred counterbalancing devices 
 to rid itself of gloom a sudden lifting of spirit, a memory 
 of other moods lived through, other blacknesses dispersed 
 by time ; but the man of level nature has none of these. 
 Depression when it comes is indeed depression ; no phase 
 of mind to be superseded by another phase, but a slacken- 
 ing of all the cords of life. 
 
 It was through such a depression that he labored dur- 
 ing three weeks, while no summons and no hint of re- 
 membrance came from Chilcote. His position was 
 peculiarly difficult. He found no interest in the present ; 
 and toward the future he dared not trust himself to look. 
 He had slipped the old moorings that familiarity had ren- 
 dered endurable ; but having slipped them, he had found 
 no substitute. Such was his case on the last night of 
 the three weeks, and such his frame of mind as, wrapped 
 in his heavy overcoat, he crossed Fleet Street from 
 Clifford's Inn to Middle Temple Lane. 
 
 It was scarcely seven o'clock, but already the dusk 
 was falling ; the greater press of vehicles had ceased, and 
 the light of the street lamps gleamed back from the spaces 
 of dry and polished roadway, worn smooth as a mirror 
 by wheels and hoofs. Something of the solitude of 
 night that sits so ill on the strenuous city street was 
 making itself felt, though the throngs of people on .the 
 pathway still streamed east and westward, and the 
 taverns plied a busy trade. 
 
 Having crossed the roadway, he paused for a moment 
 to survey the scene. But humanity in the abstract made 
 small appeal to him, and his glance wandered from the 
 passers-by to the buildings, massed like clouds against the 
 dark sky. As his gaze moved slowly from one to the 
 other, a clock near at hand struck seven, and a second 
 later the chorus was taken up by a dozen clamorous 
 tongues. Usually he scarcely heard, and never heeded, 
 these innumerable chimes; but this evening their effect
 
 94 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 was strange. Coming out of the darkness, they seemed 
 to possess a personal note, a human declaration. The 
 impression was fantastic, but it was strong ; with a species 
 of revolt against life and his own personality, he turned 
 slowly, and moved forward in the direction of Ludgate 
 Hill. 
 
 For a space he continued his course, but reaching 
 Bouverie Street he turned sharply to the right, made his 
 way down the slight incline towards Carmelite and Tallis 
 Streets, and reached the Embankment. There he paused 
 and drew a long breath. The sense of space and darkness 
 soothed him. Pulling his cap well over his eyes, he 
 crossed to the river and walked on in the direction of 
 Westminster Bridge. 
 
 As he walked, the great mass of water by his side 
 looked dense and smooth as oil, with its sweeping width 
 and network of reflected light. On its farther bank rose 
 the tall buildings, the chimneys, the flaring lights that 
 suggest another and an alien London; close at hand 
 stretched the solid stone parapet, giving assurance of 
 protection. 
 
 All these things he saw with his mental eyes, but with 
 his mental eyes only, for his physical gaze was fixed 
 ahead where the Houses of Parliament loomed out of the 
 dusk. From the great building his glance never wavered 
 until the Embankment was traversed and Westminster 
 Bridge reached. Then he paused, resting his hands on 
 the low coping of the bridge. 
 
 In the tense quietude of the darkness the place looked 
 vast and inspiring. The shadowy Terrace, the silent 
 river, the rows of lighted windows, each seemed sig- 
 nificant. Slowly and comprehensively his glance passed 
 from one to the other. He was no sentimentalist and 
 no dreamer ; his act was simply the act of a man whose 
 interests, robbed of their natural outlet, turn instinctively 
 towards the forms and symbols of the work that is denied 
 them. His scrutiny was steady even cold. He was 
 raised to no exaltation by the vastness of the building, 
 nor was he chilled by any dwarfing of himself. He
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 95 
 
 looked at it long and thoughtfully, then, still moving 
 slowly, he turned and retraced his steps. 
 
 His mind was full as he walked back, oblivious of the 
 stone parapet of the Embankment, of the bare trees and 
 the flaring lights of the advertisements across the water. 
 Turning up into Carmelite Street, he regained Fleet 
 Street and made for his own habitation with the quiet 
 accuracy that some men exhibit in moments of absorption. 
 
 He crossed Clifford's Inn with the same slow, al- 
 most listless step ; then, as his own doorway came into 
 view, he stopped. Some one was standing in its recess. 
 
 For a moment he wondered if his fancy were playing 
 him a trick; then his reason sprang to certainty with so 
 fierce a leap, that for an instant his mind recoiled. We 
 more often stand aghast at the strength of our own 
 feelings than before the enormity of our neighbors' acts. 
 
 " Is that you, Chilcote ? " he said below his breath. His 
 voice was even, though his mind swam. 
 
 At the sound of his voice the other wheeled round. 
 " Hallo ! " he said quickly. " I thought you were the 
 ghost of some old inhabitant. I suppose I am very un- 
 expected ? " 
 
 Loder took the hand that he extended and pressed the 
 fingers unconsciously. The sight of this man was like 
 the finding of an oasis at the point where the desert is 
 sandiest, deadliest, most unbearable. 
 
 " Yes ; you are unexpected," he answered. 
 
 Chilcote looked at him, then looked out into the court. 
 " I'm done up," he said sharply. " I'm at the end of the 
 tether." He laughed as he said it, but in the dim light of 
 the hall Loder thought his face looked ill and harassed, 
 despite the flush that the excitement of the meeting had 
 brought to it. Taking his arm, he drew him towards 
 the stairs. 
 
 " So the rope has run out, eh ? " he said, in imitation 
 of the other's tone. But under the quiet of his manner, 
 his own nerves were throbbing with the peculiar alertness 
 of anticipation, a sudden sense of mastery over life, 
 that lifted him above surroundings and above persons; 
 a sense of stature, mental and physical, from which he
 
 96 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 surveyed the world. He felt as if Fate, in the moment of 
 darkness, had given him a sign. 
 
 As they had crossed the hall, Chilcote had drawn away 
 and was already mounting the stairs. As Loder followed 
 it came sharply to his mind that here, in the slipshod 
 freedom of a door that was always open and a stair that 
 was innocent of covering, lay his companion's real niche 
 unrecognized in outward avowal but acknowledged 
 by the inward keener sense that manifests the individual. 
 
 In silence they mounted the stairs, but on the first 
 landing Chilcote paused and looked back. 
 
 " I did very well at first," he said. " I did very well 
 I almost followed your example for a week or so. I 
 found myself on a sort of pinnacle and I clung on. 
 But in the last ten days I've I've rather lapsed." 
 
 " Why ? " Loder avoided looking at his face ; he kept 
 his eyes fixed determinately on the spot where his own 
 hand gripped the banister. 
 
 " Why ? " Chilcote repeated. " Oh, the prehistoric 
 tale weakness stronger than strength. I'm I'm sorry 
 to come down on you like this ; but it's the social side that 
 bowls me over. It's the social side I can't stick." 
 
 " The social side ? I thought " 
 
 " Don't think. I never think ; it entails such a con- 
 stant upsetting of principles and theories. We did 
 arrange for business only, but one can't set up barriers. 
 Society pushes itself everywhere nowadays into business 
 most of all. I don't want you for theatre-parties or 
 dinners. But a big reception with a political flavor is 
 different. A man has to be seen at these things; he 
 needn't say anything or do anything, but it's bad form 
 if he fails to show up." 
 
 Loder raised his head. "Explain," he said abruptly. 
 
 Chilcote started slightly at the sudden demand. 
 
 " I I suppose I'm rather irrelevant," he said quickly. 
 " Fact is, there's a reception at the Bramfell's to-night. 
 You know Blanche Bramfell Viscountess Bramfell, 
 sister to Lillian Astrupp? " His words conveyed nothing 
 to Loder, but he did not consider that. All explanations
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 97 
 
 were irksome to him, and he invariably chafed to be 
 done with them. 
 
 " And you've got to put in an appearance for party 
 reasons ? " 
 
 Chilcote showed relief. " Yes. Old Fraide makes 
 rather a point of it so does Eve." He said the last 
 words carelessly, then, as if their sound recalled some- 
 thing, his expression changed. A trace of satirical amuse- 
 ment touched his lips, and he laughed. 
 
 " By the way, Loder," he said, " my wife was actually 
 tolerant of me for nine or ten days after my return. I 
 thought your representation of me was to be quite im- 
 personal? I'm not jealous," he laughed. "I'm not 
 jealous, I assure you; but the burned child shouldn't 
 grow absent-minded." 
 
 At his tone and his laugh Loder's blood stirred; with 
 a sudden unexpected impulse his hand tightened on the 
 banister, and looking up he caught sight of the face above 
 him his own face it seemed, alight with malicious in- 
 terest. At the sight a strange sensation seized him; his 
 grip on the banister loosened, and pushing past Chilcote 
 he hurriedly mounted the stairs. 
 
 Outside his own door the other overtook him. 
 
 " Loder ! " he said. " Loder ! I meant no harm. A 
 man must have a laugh sometimes." 
 
 But Loder was facing the door, and did not turn round. 
 
 A sudden fear shook Chilcote. " Loder ! " he ex- 
 claimed again, "you wouldn't desert me? I can't go 
 tack to-night. I can't go back." 
 
 Still Loder remained immovable. 
 
 Alarmed by his silence, Chilcote glanced nervously 
 back at the steep staircase. 
 
 "Loder! Loder, you won't desert me?" He caught 
 hastily at his arm. 
 
 With a quick repulsion Loder shook him off; then al- 
 most as quickly he turned round. 
 
 " What fools we all are ! " he said abruptly. " I believe 
 we only differ in degree. Come in, and let us change our 
 clothes."
 
 98 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The best moments of a man's life are the moments 
 when, strong in himself, he feels that the world lies be- 
 fore him. Gratified ambition may be the summer, but 
 anticipation is the ardent spring-time of his career. 
 
 As Loder drove that night from Fleet Street to Gros- 
 venor 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. 
 
 In that moment of realization he looked neither back- 
 ward nor forward. The present was all-sufficing. Dif- 
 ficulties might loom ahead, but difficulties had but one 
 object the testing and sharpening of a man's strength. 
 In the first deep surge of egotistical feeling he almost 
 rejoiced in Chilcote's weakness. The more Chilcote 
 tangled the threads of his life the stronger must be the 
 fingers that unravelled them. He was possessed by a 
 great impatience; the joy of action was stirring in his 
 blood. 
 
 Leaving the cab, he walked confidently to the door of 
 Chilcote's house and inserted the latch-key. Even in 
 this small act there was a grain of individual satisfaction. 
 Then very quietly he opened the door and crossed the 
 hall. 
 
 As he entered, a footman was arranging the fire that 
 burned in the big grate. Seeing the man, he halted. 
 
 " Where is your mistress ? " he asked, in unconscious 
 repetition of his first question in the same house. 
 
 The man looked up. " She has just finished dinner, 
 sir. She dined alone in her own room.'' He glanced 
 at Loder in the .quick uncertain way that was noticeable 
 in all the servants of the household when they addressed 
 their master. Loder saw the look and wondered what 
 depth of curiosity it betrayed, how much of insight into 
 the domestic life that he must always be content to skim. 
 For an instant the old resentment against Chilcote tinged
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. W 
 
 his exaltation, but he swept it angrily aside. Without 
 further remark he began to mount the stairs. 
 
 Gaining the landing, he did not turn as usual to the 
 door that shut off Chilcote's rooms, but moved onward 
 down the corridor towards Eve's private sitting-room. 
 He moved slowly till the door was reached; then he 
 paused and lifted his hand. There was a moment's wait 
 while his fingers rested on the handle ; then a sensation 
 he could not explain a reticence, a reluctance to intrude 
 upon this one precinct caused his fingers to relax. 
 With a slightly embarrassed gesture he drew back slowly 
 and retraced his steps. 
 
 Once in Chilcote's bedroom, he walked to the nearest 
 bell and pressed it. Renwick responded, and at sight of 
 him Loder's feelings warmed with the same sense of fit- 
 ness and familiarity that the huge bed and somber fur- 
 niture of the room inspired. 
 
 But the man did not come 'forward as he expected. 
 He remained close to the door, with a hesitation that was 
 unusual in a trained servant. It struck Loder that 
 possibly the man's stolidity had exasperated Chilcote, and 
 that possibly Chilcote had been at no pains to conceal the 
 exasperation. The idea caused him to smile involuntarily. 
 
 " Come into the room, Renwick ! " he said. " It's un- 
 comfortable to see you standing there. I want to know 
 if Mrs. Chilcote has sent me any message about to- 
 night?" 
 
 Renwick studied him furtively as he came forward. 
 " Yes, sir," he said. " Mrs. Chilcote's maid said that the 
 carriage was ordered for 10.15, and she hoped that 
 would suit you." He spoke reluctantly, as if expecting 
 a rebuke. 
 
 At the opening sentence Loder had turned aside, but 
 now as the man finished he wheeled round again and 
 looked at him closely with his keen, observant eyes. 
 
 " Look here," he said, " I can't have you speak to me 
 like that. I may come down on you rather sharply when 
 my my nerves are bad ; but when I'm myself I treat 
 you well, I treat you decently at any rate. You'll have 
 to learn to discriminate. Look at me now ! " A thrill
 
 100 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 of risk and of rulership passed through him as he spoke. 
 
 " Look at me now ! Do I look as I looked this morning 
 or yesterday ? " 
 
 The man eyed him half-stupidly and half-timidly. 
 
 "Well?" Loder insisted. 
 
 "Well, sir," Renwick responded with some slowness, 
 " you look the same and you look different. A healthier 
 color, perhaps, sir; and the eye clearer." He grew more 
 confident under the half-humorous, half-insistent gaze. 
 " Now that I look closer, sir " 
 
 Loder laughed. "That's it!" he said. "Now that 
 you look closer! You'll have to grow observant; obser- 
 vation is an excellent quality in a servant. When you 
 come into a room in future, look at me first of all and 
 take your cue from that. Remember that serving a man 
 with nerves is like serving two masters. Now you can 
 go; and tell Mrs. Chilcote's maid that I shall be quite 
 ready at a quarter-past ten." 
 
 :< Yes, sir. And after that? " 
 
 " Nothing further. I shan't want you again to-night." 
 He turned as he spoke and crossed to the great fire that 
 was always kept alight in Chilcote's room. Then as the 
 man moved towards the door, he wheeled back again. 
 
 " Oh, one thing more, Renwick ! Bring me some sand- 
 wiches and a whisky." 
 
 He had remembered for the first time that he had eaten 
 nothing since early afternoon. 
 
 At a few minutes after ten Loder left Chilcote's room, 
 resolutely descended the stairs, and took up his position 
 in the hall. Resolution is a strong word to apply to such 
 a proceeding, but something in his bearing, in the 
 attitude of his shoulders and head, instinctively suggested 
 it. 
 
 Five or six minutes passed, but he waited without im- 
 patience; then at last the sound of a carriage stopping 
 before the house caused him to lift his head, and at the 
 same instant Eve appeared at the head of the stairs. 
 
 She stood there for a second, looking down on him,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 101 
 
 her maid a pace or two behind, holding her cloak. The 
 picture she made struck upon his mind with something 
 of a revelation. 
 
 On his first sight of her she had appealed to him as 
 a strange blending of youth and self-possession a girl 
 with a woman's clearer perception of life; later, he had 
 been drawn to study her in other aspects; but now for 
 the first time he saw her as a power in her own world, 
 a woman to whom no man could deny consideration. 
 She looked taller for the distance between them, and the 
 distinction of her carriage added to the effect. Her 
 black gown was exquisitely soft as soft as her black 
 hair; above her forehead was a cluster of splendid 
 diamonds shaped like a coronet, and a band of the same 
 stones encircled her neck. Loder realized in a glance 
 that only the most distinguished of women could wear 
 such ornaments and not have her beauty eclipsed. WitK 
 a touch of the awkwardness that had before assailed him 
 in her presence, he came slowly forward as she descended 
 the stairs. 
 
 " Can I help you with your cloak ? " he asked. And 
 as he asked it, something like surprise at his own^timidity 
 crossed his mind. 
 
 For a second Eve's glance rested on his face. Her 
 expression was quite impassive, but as she lowered her 
 lashes a faint gleam flickered across her eyes; neverthe- 
 less her answer when it came was studiously courteous. 
 
 ; ' Thank you," she said, " but Marie will do all I want." 
 
 Loder looked at her for a moment, then turned aside. 
 He was not hurt by his rebuff, rather, by an interesting 
 sequence of impressions, he was stirred by it. The pride 
 that had refused Chilcote's help and the self-control that 
 had refused it graciously moved him to admiration. He 
 understood and appreciated both by the light of personal 
 experience. 
 
 " The carriage is at the door, sir," Crapham's voice 
 broke in. 
 
 Eve turned to her maid. " That will do, Marie," she 
 said. " I shall want a cup of chocolate when I get back 
 probably at one o'clock." She drew her cloak about
 
 102 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 her shoulders and moved towards the door. Then she 
 paused and looked back. 
 
 "Shall we start?" she asked quietly. 
 
 Loder, still watching her, came forward at once. 
 " Certainly," he said with unusual gentleness. 
 
 He followed her as she crossed the footpath, but made 
 no further offer of help ; and when the moment came, he 
 quietly took his place beside her in the carriage. His 
 last impression as the horses wheeled round was of the 
 open door of Crapham in his somber livery and the 
 maid in her black dress, silhouetted against the dark 
 background of the hall; then, as the carriage moved 
 forward smoothly and rapidly, he leant back in his seat 
 and closed his eyes. 
 
 During the first few moments of the drive there was 
 silence. To Loder there was a strange new sensation in 
 this companionship, so close and yet so distant. He was 
 so near to Eve that the slight fragrant scent from her 
 clothes might almost have belonged to his own garments. 
 The impression was confusing and yet vaguely delightful. 
 It was years since he had been so close to a woman of 
 his own class his own world. He acknowledged the 
 thought with a curious sense of pleasure. His own 
 world! Involuntarily he turned and looked at her. 
 
 She was sitting very straight her fine profile cut clear 
 against the carriage-window, her diamonds quivering in 
 the light that flashed by them from the street. For a 
 space the sense of unreality that had pervaded his first 
 entrance into Chilcote's life touched* him again, then 
 another and more potent feeling rose to quell it. Almost 
 involuntarily his lips parted. 
 
 " May I say something? " he asked. 
 
 Eve remained motionless. She did not turn her head 
 as most women would have done. 
 
 " Say anything you like," she said gravely. 
 
 "Anything?" He bent a little nearer, filled again by 
 the inordinate wish to dominate. 
 
 " Of course." It seemed to him that her voice sounded 
 forced and a little tired. For a moment he looked through
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 103 
 
 the window at the passing lights, then slowly his gaze 
 returned to her face. 
 
 " You look very beautiful to-night," he said. His 
 voice was low and his manner unemotional, but his words 
 had the effect he desired. 
 
 She turned her head, and her eyes met his in a glance 
 of curiosity and surprise. 
 
 Slight as the triumph was, it thrilled him. The small 
 scene with Chilcote's valet came to him ; his own person- 
 ality moved him again as it had done then to a reckless 
 determination to make his own voice heard. Leaning 
 forward, he laid his hand lightly on her arm. 
 
 " Eve," he said quickly, " Eve, do you remember " 
 
 Then he paused and withdrew his hand. The horses had 
 slackened speed, then stopped, as the carriage fell into 
 line outside Lord BramieH's house. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Loder entered Lord Bramfell's feeling far more like 
 an actor in a drama than an ordinary man in a peculiar 
 situation. It was the first time he had played Chilcote 
 to a purely social audience, and the first time for many 
 years that he had rubbed shoulders with a well-dressed 
 crowd, ostensibly brought together for amusement. As 
 he followed Eve along the corridor that led to the recep- 
 tion rooms, he questioned the reality of the position again 
 and again; then abruptly, at the moment when the sen- 
 sation of un familiarity was strongest, a cheery voice 
 hailed him, and turning, he saw the square shoulders, 
 light eyes, and pointed moustache of Lakeley, the owner 
 and editor of the " St. George's Gazette." 
 
 At sight of the man and sound of his greeting his 
 doubts and speculations vanished. The essentials of life 
 rose again to the position they had occupied three weeks 
 ago in the short but strenuous period when his dormant 
 activities had been stirred and he had recognized his 
 true self. He lifted his head unconsciously the shade
 
 104 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 of misgiving that had crossed his confidence passing from 
 him, as he smiled at Lakeley with a keen, alert pleasure 
 that altered his whole face. 
 
 Eve, looking back, saw the expression. It attracted 
 and held her, like a sudden glimpse into a secret room. 
 In all the years of her marriage in the days of her 
 courtship even she had never surprised the look on 
 Chilcote's face. The impression came quickly, and with 
 it a strange warm rush of interest that receded slowly, 
 leaving an odd sense of loneliness. But at the moment 
 that the feeling came and passed her attention was 
 claimed in another direction. A slight, fair-haired boy 
 forced his way towards her through the press of people 
 that filled the corridor. 
 
 " Mrs. Chilcote ! " he exclaimed. " Can I believe my 
 luck in finding you alone ? " 
 
 Eve laughed. It seemed that there was relief in her 
 laugh. 
 
 " How absurd you are, Bobby ! " she said kindly. " But 
 you are wrong. My husband is here I am waiting for 
 him." 
 
 Blessington looked around. " Oh ! " he said, " in- 
 deed ! " Then he relapsed into silence. He was the 
 soul of good-nature, but those who knew him best, 
 knew that Chilcote's summary change of secretaries had 
 rankled. Eve, conscious of the little jar, made haste to 
 smooth it away. 
 
 "Tell me about yourself!" she said. "What have 
 you been doing ? " 
 
 Blessington looked at her; then smiled again, his 
 buoyancy restored. 
 
 " Doing ! " he said. " Oh, calling every other after- 
 noon at Grosvenor Square only to find that a certain 
 lady is never at home." 
 
 At his tone Eve laughed. The boy with his frank and 
 ingenuous nature had beguiled many a dull hour for her 
 in past days, and she had missed him not a little when 
 his place had been filled by Greening. 
 
 " But I mean seriously, Bobby. Has something good 
 turned up ? "
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 105 
 
 Blessington made a wry face. " Something is on its 
 way that's why I am on duty to-night. Old Bramfell 
 and the pater are working it between them. So if Lady 
 Bramfell or Lady Astrupp happens to drop a fan or a 
 handkerchief this evening, I've got to be here to pick it 
 up. See?" 
 
 " As you picked up my fans and handkerchiefs last 
 year and the year before ? " Eve smiled. 
 
 Blessington's face suddenly looked grave. " I wish 
 you hadn't said that," he said. Then he paused abruptly. 
 Out of the hum of talk behind them a man's laugh 
 sounded. It was not loud, but it was a laugh that one 
 seldom hears in a London drawing-room it expressed 
 interest, amusement, and in an inexplicable way it seemed 
 also to express strength. 
 
 Eve and Blessington both turned involuntarily. 
 
 " By Jove ! " said Blessington. 
 
 Eve said nothing. 
 
 Loder was parting with Lakeley, and his was the laugh 
 that had attracted both. The interest excited by his talk 
 was still reflected in his face and bearing as he made 
 his way towards them. 
 
 " By Jove ! " said Blessington again. " I never real- 
 ized that Chilcote was so tall." 
 
 Again Eve said nothing. But silently and with a more 
 subtle meaning she found herself echoing the words. 
 
 Until he was quite close to her, Loder did not seem 
 to see her. Then he stopped quietly. 
 
 " I was speaking to Lakeley," he said. " He wants me 
 to dine with him one night at Cadogan Gardens." 
 
 But Eve was silent, waiting for him to address Bless- 
 ington. She glanced at him quickly, but though their 
 eyes met he did not catch the meaning that lay in hers. 
 It was a difficult moment. She had known him incred- 
 ibly almost unpardonably absent-minded; but it had 
 invariably been when he was suffering from "nerves," 
 as she phrased it to herself. But to-night he was obvi- 
 ously in the possession of unclouded faculties. She col- 
 ored slightly, and glanced under her lashes at Blessing- 
 ton. Had the same idea struck him, she wondered. But
 
 106 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 he was studiously studying a suit of Chinese armor 
 that stood close by in a niche of the wall. 
 
 " Bobby has been keeping me amused while you talked 
 to Mr. Lakeley," she said pointedly. 
 
 Directly addressed, Loder turned and looked at Bless- 
 ington. 
 
 " How d'you do ? " he said with doubtful cordiality. 
 The name of Bobby conveyed nothing to him. 
 
 To his surprise Eve looked annoyed, and Blessing- 
 ton's fresh-colored face deepened in tone. With a slow, 
 uncomfortable sensation he was aware of having struck 
 a wrong note. 
 
 There was a short, unpleasant pause. Then, more by 
 intuition than actual sight, Blessington saw Eve's eyes 
 turn from him to Loder, and with quick tact he saved 
 the situation. 
 
 "How d'you do, sir?" he responded with a smile. 
 " I congratulate you on looking so so uncommon well. 
 I was just telling Mrs. Chilcote that I hold a commis- 
 sion for Lady Astrupp to-night; I'm a sort of scout at 
 present reporting on the outposts." He spoke fast 
 and without much meaning, but his boyish voice eased 
 the strain. 
 
 Eve thanked him with a smile. " Then we mustn't 
 interfere with a person on active service," she said. " Be- 
 sides, we have our own duties to get through." She 
 smiled again, and touching Loder's arm, indicated the 
 reception rooms. 
 
 When they entered the larger of the two rooms, Lady 
 Bramfell was still receiving her guests. She was a tall 
 and angular woman, who, except for a certain beauty of 
 hands and feet and a certain similarity of voice, pos- 
 sessed nothing in common with her sister Lillian. She 
 was speaking to a group of people as Eve and Loder 
 approached, and the first sound of her sweet and rather 
 drawling tones touched Loder with a curious momentary 
 feeling a vague suggestion of awakened memories. 
 Then the suggestion vanished as she turned and greeted 
 Eve. 
 
 " How sweet of you to come ! " she murmured ; and it
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 107 
 
 seemed to Loder that a more spontaneous smile lighted 
 up her face. Then she extended her hand to him. 
 
 " And you too ! " she added. " Though I fear we 
 shall bore you horribly." 
 
 Watching her with interest, he saw her change of 
 expression as her eyes turned from Eve to him, and 
 noticed a colder tone in her voice as she addressed him 
 directly. The observation moved him to self-assertion. 
 
 " That's a poor compliment to me," he said. " To be 
 bored is surely only a polite way of being inane." 
 
 Lady Bramfell smiled. " What ! " she exclaimed. 
 " You defending your social reputation ! " 
 
 Loder laughed a little. " The smaller it is, the more 
 defending it needs." 
 
 Another stream of arrivals swept by them as he spoke. 
 Eve smiled at her hostess and moved across the room, 
 and he perforce followed. As he gained her side the 
 little court about Lady Bramfell was left well in the 
 rear, the great throng at the farther end of the room 
 was not yet reached, and for the moment they were prac- 
 tically alone. 
 
 There was a certain uneasiness in that moment of 
 companionship. It seemed to him that Eve wished to 
 speak, but hesitated. Once or twice she opened and 
 closed the fan that she was carrying, then at last, as if 
 by an effort, she turned and looked at him. 
 
 " Why were you so cold to Bobby Blessington ? " she 
 asked. " Doesn't it seem discourteous to ignore him as 
 you did?" 
 
 Her manner was subdued. It was not the annoyed 
 manner that one uses to a man when he has behaved 
 ill; it was more the explanatory tone one might adopt 
 towards an incorrigible child. Loder felt this. But the 
 gist of a remark always came to him first its mode of 
 expression later. The fact that it was Blessington whom 
 he had encountered Blessington to whom he had spoken 
 with vague politeness struck him with a sense of un- 
 pleasantness. He was not to blame in the matter, never- 
 theless he blamed himself. He was annoyed that he 
 should have made the slip in Eve's presence.
 
 108 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 They were moving forward, nearing the press of peo- 
 ple in the second room, when Eve spoke, and the fact 
 filled him with an unusual sense of annoyance. People 
 smiled and bowed to her from every side; one woman 
 leant forward as they passed and whispered something 
 in her ear. Again the sensation of futility and vexa- 
 tion filled him ; again he realized how palpable was the 
 place she held in the world. Then, as his feelings 
 reached their height, and speech was wellnigh forced 
 upon him, a small man with a round sallow face, catch- 
 ing a glimpse of them, darted from a circle of people 
 gathered in one of the windows. With an unjust touch 
 of irritation he recognized their host. 
 
 Again the sense of Eve's aloofness stung him as Lord 
 Bramfell approached. In another moment she would be 
 lost to him amongst this throng of strangers claimed 
 by them as if by right. 
 
 " Eve," he said involuntarily under his breath. 
 
 She half paused and turned towards him. " Yes ? " 
 she said ; and he wondered if it was his imagination that 
 made the word sound slightly eager. 
 
 " About that matter of Blessington," he began. Then 
 he stopped. Bramfell had reached them. 
 
 The little man came up smiling, and with an out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 " There's no penalty for separating husband and wife, 
 is there, Mrs. Chilcote ? How are you, Chilcote ? " He 
 turned from one to the other with the quick, noiseless 
 manner that characterized him. 
 
 Loder moved aside to hide his vexation, but Eve 
 greeted Bramfell with her usual self-possessed smile. 
 
 " You are exempt from all penalties to-night," she 
 said. Then she turned to the members of his party, who 
 had strolled across from the window in his wake. 
 
 As she moved, he looked at Loder. 
 
 " Well, Chilcote, have you dipped into the future yet? " 
 he asked with a laugh. 
 
 Loder echoed the laugh, but said nothing. In his un- 
 certainty at the question he reverted to his old resource 
 of silence.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 109 
 
 Bramfell raised his eyebrows. " What ! " he said. 
 " Don't tell me that my sister-in-law hasn't engaged you 
 as a victim." Then he turned again to Eve. 
 
 " You've heard of our new departure, Mrs. Chilcote ? " 
 
 She looked round from the lively group by which she 
 was surrounded. 
 
 " Lillian's crystal-gazing? Why, of course," she said. 
 " She should make a very beautiful seer. We are all 
 quite curious." 
 
 Bramfell pursed up his lips. 
 
 " She has a very beautiful tent at the end of the con- 
 servatory. It took five men as many days to rig it up. 
 We couldn't hear ourselves talk for hammering. My 
 wife said it made her feel quite philanthropic it re- 
 minded her so much of a charity bazaar." 
 
 Everybody laughed; and at the same moment Bless- 
 ington came quickly across the room and joined the 
 group. 
 
 " Hallo ! " he said, " anybody seen Witcheston? He's 
 next on my list for the crystal business." 
 
 Again the whole party laughed, and Bramfell, step- 
 ping forward, touched Blessington's arm in mock seri- 
 ousness. 
 
 " Witcheston is playing bridge like a sensible man," 
 he said. " Leave him in peace, Bobby." 
 
 Blessington made a comical grimace. 
 
 " But I'm working this on commercial principles," he 
 objected. " I keep the list names and hours complete, 
 and Lady Astrupp gazes in blissful ignorance as to who 
 her victims are. The whole thing 'is great simple and 
 statistical." 
 
 " For goodness' sake, Bobby, shut up ! " Bramfell's 
 round eyes were twinkling with amusement. 
 
 " But my system " 
 
 " Systems ! Ah, we all had them when we were as 
 young as you are." 
 
 " And they all had flaws, Bobby," Eve broke in. " We 
 were always finding gaps that had to be filled up. Never 
 mind about Lord Witcheston. Get a substitute; it won't 
 count if Lillian doesn't know,"
 
 110 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Blessington wavered. His eyes wandered round the 
 party, and rested again on Bramfell. 
 
 " Not me, Bobby ! Remember I've breathed crystals 
 practically lived on them for the last week. Now, 
 there's Chilcote " Again his eyes twinkled. 
 
 All eyes were turned on Loder, though one or two 
 strayed surreptitiously to Eve. She, sensitive to the 
 position, laughed quickly. 
 
 " A very good idea," she said hastily. " Who wants 
 to see the future if not a politician. Please use your 
 authority, Bobby. And when you've got him safely 
 under the canvas come back to me. It's years since we've 
 had a talk." She nodded and smiled, then instantly turned 
 to Bramfell with some trivial remark. 
 
 For a second Loder waited, then with a movement of 
 resignation he laid his hand on Blessington's arm. 
 
 " Very well ! " he said. " But if my fate is black, wit- 
 ness it was my wife who sent me to it ! " His faint pause 
 on the word wife, the mention of the word itself in 
 presence of these people, had a savor of recklessness. 
 The small discomfiture of his earlier slip vanished before 
 it; he experienced a strong reaction of confidence in 
 his luck. With a cool head, a steady step and a friendly 
 pressure of the fingers on Blessington's arm, he allowed 
 himself to be drawn across the reception rooms, through 
 the long corridors and down the broad flight of steps 
 that led to the conservatory. 
 
 The conservatory was a feature of the Bramfell town 
 house; and to Loder it came as something wonderful 
 and unlocked for, with its clustering green branches, its 
 slight unoppressive scents, its temperately pleasant atmos- 
 phere. He felt no wish to speak as, still guided by 
 Blessington, he passed down the shadowy paths that in 
 the half-light had the warmth and mystery of a southern 
 garden. Here and there from the darkness came the 
 whispering of a voice or the sound of a laugh, bringing 
 with it the necessary touch of life. Otherwise the place 
 was still. 
 
 Absorbed by the air of solitude, contrasting so re- 
 markably with the noise and crowded glitter left behind
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. Ill 
 
 in the reception rooms, he had moved half-way down the 
 long green aisle before the business in hand came back 
 to him with a sense of annoyance. It seemed so paltry 
 to mar the quiet of the place with the absurdity of a 
 side-show. He turned to Blessington with a touch of 
 abruptness. 
 
 " What am I expected to do ? " he asked. 
 
 Blessington looked up surprised. 
 
 " Why, I thought, sir," he began. Then he instantly 
 altered his tone. " Oh, just enter into the spirit of the 
 thing. Lady Astrupp won't put much strain on your 
 credulity, but she'll make a big call on your solemnity." 
 He laughed. 
 
 He had an infectious laugh, and Loder responded to 
 it. 
 
 " But what am I to do ? " he persisted. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, sir. Being the priestess, she naturally 
 demands acolytes ; but she'll let you know that she holds 
 the prior place. The tent is so fixed that she sees noth- 
 ing beyond your hands: so there's absolutely no delu- 
 sion." He laughed once more. Then suddenly he low- 
 ered his voice and slackened his steps. " Here we are ! " 
 he whispered in pretended awe. 
 
 At the end of the path the space widened to the full 
 breadth of the conservatory. The light was dimmed, 
 giving an added impression of distance ; away to the left 
 Loder heard the sound of splashing water, and on his 
 right hand he caught his first glimpse of the tent that 
 was his goal. 
 
 It was an artistic little erection a pavilion constructed 
 of silky fabric, that showed bronze in the light of an 
 oriental lamp that hung above its entrance. As they 
 drew closer to it, a man emerged. He stood for a mo- 
 ment, uncertainly looking about him ; then catching sight 
 of them he came forward laughing. 
 
 " By George ! " he exclaimed, " it's as dark as limbc 
 in there ! I didn't see you at first. But I say, Blessing- 
 ton, it's a beastly shame to have that thunder-cloud bar- 
 rier shutting off the sorceress. If she gazes at the crys- 
 tal, mayn't we have something to gaze at too ? "
 
 112 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Blessington laughed. " You want too much, Gall- 
 try," he said. " Lady Astrupp understands the value of 
 the unattainable. Come along, sir! " he ad-'cd to Loder, 
 drawing him forward with an energetic pressure of the 
 arm. 
 
 Loder responded, and as he did so a flicker of curi- 
 osity touched his mind for the first time. He wondered 
 for an instant who this woman was, who aroused so 
 much comment. And with the speculation came the re- 
 membrance of how he had assured Chilcote that on one 
 point at least he was invulnerable. He had spoken then 
 from the height of a past experience an experience so 
 fully past that he wondered now if it had been as staple 
 a guarantee as he had then believed. Man's capacity 
 for outliving is astonishingly complete. The long ago 
 incident in the Italian mountains had faded, like a cray- 
 on study in which the tones have merged and gradually 
 lost character. The past had paled before the present 
 as golden hair might pale before black. The simile came 
 with apparent irrelevance. Then again Blessington 
 pressed his arm. 
 
 " Now, sir ! " he said, drawing away and lifting the 
 curtain that hung before the entrance of the tent. 
 
 Loder looked at the amused boyish face lighted by 
 the hanging lamp and smiled; then with a shrug of the 
 shoulders he entered the pavilion, and the curtain fell 
 behind him. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 On entering the pavilion Loder's first feeling was one 
 of annoyed awkwardness at finding himself in almost 
 total darkness. But, as his eyes grew accustomed to 
 the gloom, the feeling vanished, and the absurdity of the 
 position came to his mind. 
 
 The tent was small, heavily draped with silk, and 
 smelling of musk. It was divided into two sections by 
 an immovable curtain that hung from the roof to within 
 a few feet of the floor. The only furniture on Loder's
 
 THE MASQUER ADERS. 113 
 
 side was one low chair, and the only light a faint radi- 
 ance that, coming from the invisible half of the pavilion, 
 spread across the floor in a pale band. For a short space 
 he stood uncertain, then his hesitation was brought to an 
 end. 
 
 " Please sit down," said a low soft voice. 
 
 For a further moment he stood undecided. The voice 
 sounded so unexpectedly near. In the quiet and dark- 
 ness of the place it seemed to possess a disproportionate 
 weight almost the weight of a familiar thing. At last, 
 with a sudden, unanalyzed touch of relief, he located the 
 impression. It was the similarity to Lady Bramfell's 
 sweet slow tones that had stirred his mind. With a 
 sense of satisfaction he drew the chair forward and sat 
 down. 
 
 Then for the first time he saw that on the other side 
 of the partition, and below it by a few inches, there was 
 a small table of polished wood, on which stood an open 
 book, a crystal ball, and a gold dish filled with ink. These 
 were arranged on the side of the table nearest to him, 
 the farther side being out of his range of vision. An 
 amused interest touched him as he made his position 
 more comfortable. Whoever this woman was, she had 
 an eye for stage management, she knew how to mar- 
 shal her effects. He found himself waiting with some 
 curiosity for the next injunction from behind the cur- 
 tain. 
 
 " The art of crystal-gazing," began the voice after a 
 pause, " is one of the oldest known arts." Loder sat for- 
 ward. The thought of Lady Bramfell mingled discon- 
 certingly with some other thought more distant and less 
 easy to secure. 
 
 " To obtain the best results, the subject lays his un- 
 covered hands outspread upon a smooth surface." It was 
 evident that the invisible priestess was reading from the 
 open book, for when the word " surface " was reached 
 there was a slight stir that indicated the changing of 
 position ; and when the voice came again it was in a 
 different tone
 
 114 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Please lay your hands palms downward upon the 
 table." 
 
 Loder smiled to himself in the darkness. He pictured 
 Chilcote with his nerves and his impatience going 
 through this ordeal; then in good-humored silence he 
 leant forward and obeyed the command. His hands 
 rested on the smooth surface of the table in the bar of 
 light from the unseen lamp. 
 
 There was a second in which the seer was silent ; then 
 he fancied that she raised her head. 
 
 " You must take off your rings," she said smoothly. 
 " Any metal interferes with the sympathetic current." 
 
 At any other time Loder would have laughed; but 
 the request, so casually and graciously made, sent all 
 possibility of irony far into the background. The thought 
 of Giilcote and of the one flaw in their otherwise flaw- 
 less scheme rose to his mind. Instinctively he half 
 withdrew his hands. 
 
 "Where is the sympathetic current?" he asked quiet- 
 ly. His thoughts were busy with the question of whether 
 he would or would not be justified in beating an undig- 
 nified retreat. 
 
 " Between you and me, of course," the voice said 
 softly. It sounded languid but very rational. The idea 
 of retreat suddenly seemed theatrical. In this world of 
 low voices and shaded lights people never adopted ex- 
 treme measures no occasion made a scene practicable, 
 or even allowable. He leant back slowly, while he 
 summed up the situation. If by any unlucky chance this 
 woman knew Chilcote to have adopted jewelry, and had 
 seen the design of his rings, the sight of his own scarred 
 finger might suggest question and comment; if, on the 
 other hand, he left the pavilion without excuse, or with- 
 out apparent reason refused to remove the rings, he 
 opened up a new difficulty a fresh road to curiosity. It 
 came upon him with unusual quickness the obstacles 
 to, and the need for, a speedy decision. He glanced 
 round the tent, then unconsciously he straightened his 
 shoulders. After all, he had stepped into a tight corner ; 
 but there was no need to cry out in squeezing his way
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 115 
 
 back. Almost immediately he realized that the soft in- 
 gratiating tones were sounding once more 
 
 " It's the passing of my hands over yours while I look 
 into the crystal that sets up sympathy " a slender 
 hand moved swiftly into the light and picked up the ball 
 " and makes my eyes see the pictures in your mind. 
 Now, will you please take off your rings ? " 
 
 The very naturalness of the request disarmed him. It 
 was a risk. But, as he himself had said, risk was the 
 salt of life! 
 
 " I'm afraid you think me very troublesome." The 
 voice came again, delicately low and conciliatory. 
 
 For a brief second Loder wondered uncertainly how 
 long or how well Chilcote knew Lady Astrupp; then 
 he dismissed the question. Chilcote had never men- 
 tioned her until to-night, and then casually as Lady 
 Bramfell's sister. What a coward he was becoming in 
 throwing the dice with Fate! Without further delay 
 he drew off the rings, slipped them into his pocket, and 
 replaced his hands on the smooth table-top. 
 
 But at the moment that he replaced them, a peculiar 
 thing occurred. 
 
 From the farther side of the dark partition came the 
 quick rustling stir of a skirt, and the slight scrape of a 
 chair pushed either backward or forward. Then there 
 was silence. 
 
 Now silence can suggest anything from profound 
 thought to imbecility ; but in this case its suggestion was 
 nil. That something had happened, that some change 
 had taken place, was as patent to Loder as the darkness 
 of the ceiling or the band of light that crossed the floor ; 
 but what had occasioned it, or what it stood for, he 
 made no attempt to decide. He sat bitingly conscious 
 of his hands spread open on the table under the scrutiny 
 of eyes that were invisible to him ; vividly aware of the 
 awkwardness of his position. He felt with instinctive 
 certainty that a new chord had been struck; but a man 
 seldom acts on instinctive certainties. If the exposure of 
 his hands had struck this fresh note, then any added
 
 116 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 action would but heighten the dilemma. He sat silent 
 and motionless. 
 
 Whether his impassivity had any bearing on the mo- 
 ment he had no means of knowing; but no further 
 movement came from behind the partition. Whatever the 
 emotions that had caused the sharp swish of skirts and 
 the sharp scrape of the chair, they had evidently sub- 
 sided, or been dominated by other feelings. 
 
 The next indication of life that came to him was the 
 laying down of the crystal ball. It was laid back upon 
 the table with a slight jerk that indicated a decision come 
 to ; and almost simultaneously the seer's voice came to 
 him again. Her tone was lower now than it had been 
 before, and its extreme ease seemed slightly shaken 
 whether by excitement, surprise, or curiosity it was im- 
 possible to say. 
 
 " You will think it strange," she began. " You will 
 think " Then she stopped. 
 
 There was a pause, as though she waited for some 
 help, but Loder remained mute. In difficulty a silent 
 tongue and a cool head are usually a man's best weap- 
 ons. 
 
 His silence was disconcerting. He heard her stir 
 again. 
 
 " You will think it strange," she began once more. 
 Then quite suddenly she checked and controlled her 
 voice. " You must forgive me," she began in a completely 
 different tone, " but crystal-gazing is a most illusive 
 thing. Directly you put your hands upon the table, I 
 felt that there would be no result ; but I wouldn't admit 
 the defeat. Women are such keen anglers they can never 
 acknowledge that any fish, however big, has evaded the 
 hook." She laughed softly. 
 
 At the sound of the laugh Loder shifted his position 
 for the first time. He could not have told why, but 
 it struck him with a sense of confusion. A precipitate 
 wish to rise and pass through the doorway into the wider 
 spaces of the conservatory came to him, though he made 
 no attempt to act upon it. He knew that for some inex- 
 plicable reason this woman behind the screen had lied
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 117 
 
 to him in the control of her speech, in her change of 
 voice. There had been one moment in which an impulse, 
 an emotion, had almost found voice; then training, in- 
 stinct, or it might have been diplomacy, had conquered, 
 and the moment had passed. There was a riddle in the 
 very atmosphere of the place and he abominated rid- 
 dles. 
 
 But Lady Astrupp was absorbed in her own concerns. 
 Again she changed her position ; and to Loder, listening 
 attentively, it seemed that she leant forward and ex- 
 amined his hands afresh. The sensation was so acute 
 that he withdrew them involuntarily. 
 
 Again there was a confused rustle; the crystal ball 
 rolled from the table and the seer laughed quickly. 
 Obeying a strenuous impulse, Loder rose. 
 
 He had no definite notion of what he expected or 
 what he must avoid. He was only conscious that the 
 pavilion, with its silk draperies, its scent of musk, and 
 its intolerable secrecy, was no longer endurable. He 
 felt cramped and confused in mind and muscle. He 
 stood for a second to straighten his limbs; then he 
 turned, and moving directly forward, passed under the 
 portiere. 
 
 After the dimness of the pavilion, the conservatory 
 seemed comparatively bright, but without waiting to 
 grow accustomed to the altered light, he moved onward 
 with deliberate haste. The long green alley w.as speed- 
 ily traversed ; in his eyes it no longer possessed green- 
 ness, no longer suggested freshness or repose. It was 
 simply a means to the end upon which his mind was set. 
 
 As he passed up the flight of steps he drew his rings 
 from his pocket and slipped them on. Then he stepped 
 into the glare of the thronged corridor. 
 
 Some one hailed him as he passed through the crowd, 
 but with Chilcote's most absorbed manner he hurried on. 
 Through the door of the supper-room he caught sight 
 of Blessington and Eve, and then only his expression 
 changed. He turned and walked directly towards them. 
 
 " Eve," he said, " will you excuse me ? I have a 
 word to say to Blessington."
 
 118 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 She glanced at him in momentary surprise; then she 
 smiled in her quiet self-possessed way. 
 
 " Of course ! " she said. " I've been wanting a chat 
 with Millicent Gower, but Bobby has required so much 
 
 entertaining " She smiled again, this time at Bless- 
 
 ington, and moved away towards a tall pale girl in green 
 who was standing alone. 
 
 Instantly she had turned, Loder took Blessington's 
 arm. 
 
 " I know you're tremendously busy," he began in an 
 excellent imitation of Chilcote's hasty manner " I know 
 you're tremendously busy, but I'm in a fix." One glance 
 at Blessington's healthy ingenuous face told him that 
 plain speaking was the method to adopt. 
 
 " Indeed, sir ? " In a moment Blessington was on the 
 alert. 
 
 " Yes. And I I want your help." 
 
 The boy reddened. That Chilcote should appeal to 
 him, stirred him to a feeling of pride and uncertainty. 
 
 Loder saw his advantage and pressed it home. " It's 
 come about through this crystal-gazing business. I'm 
 afraid I didn't play my part rather made an ass of my- 
 self; I wouldn't swallow the thing and and Lady As- 
 
 trupp " He paused, measuring Blessington with a 
 
 glance. " Well, my dear boy, you you know what 
 women are ! " 
 
 Blessington was only twenty-three. He reddened 
 again, and assumed an air of profundity. 
 
 " I know, sir," he said sagely. 
 
 Loder's sense of humor was keen, but he kept a grave 
 face. 
 
 " I knew you'd catch my meaning, but I want you to 
 do something more. If Lady Astrupp should ask you 
 who was in her tent this past ten minutes, I want you 
 " again he stopped, looking at his companion's face. 
 
 "Yes, sir?" 
 
 " I want you to tell an immaterial lie for me." 
 
 Blessington returned his glance; then he laughed a 
 little uncomfortably. 
 
 "But surely, sir ?"
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 
 
 "She recognized me, you mean ?" Loder's eyes 
 
 were keen as steel. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then you're wrong. She didn't." 
 
 Blessington's eyebrows went up. 
 
 There was a silence. Loder glanced across the room. 
 Eve had parted from the girl in green, and was moving 
 toward them, exchanging smiles and greetings as she 
 came. 
 
 " My wife is coming back," he said. " Will you do this 
 
 for me, Blessington? It it will smooth things " 
 
 He spoke quickly, continuing to watch Eve. 
 
 As he had hoped, Blessington's eyes turned in the same 
 direction. " 'Twill smooth things," he repeated, 
 " smooth them in in a domestic way that I can't ex- 
 plain." 
 
 The shot told. Blessington looked around. 
 
 " Right, sir ! " he said. " You may leave it to me." 
 And before Loder could speak again, he had turned and 
 disappeared into the crowd. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 His business with Blessington over, Loder breathed 
 more freely. If Lady Astrupp had recognized Chilcote 
 by the rings, and had been roused to curiosity, the inci- 
 dent would demand settlement sooner or later settle- 
 ment in what proportion he could hazard no guess; if, 
 on the other hand, her obvious change of manner had 
 arisen from any other source, he had a hazy idea that 
 a woman's behavior could never be gauged by accepted 
 theories, then he had safeguarded Chilcote's interests 
 and his own by his security of Blessington's promise. 
 Blessington, he knew, would be reliable and discreet. 
 With a renewal of confidence a pleasant feeling that 
 his uneasiness had been groundless he moved forward 
 to greet Eve. 
 
 Her face, with its rich clear coloring, seemed to his
 
 120 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 gaze to stand out from the crowd of other faces as 
 from a frame, and a sense of pride touched him. In 
 every eye but his own, her beauty belonged to him. 
 
 His face looked alive and masterful as she reached 
 his side. 
 
 " May I monopolize you ? " he said, with the quickness 
 of speech borrowed from Chilcote. " We we see so 
 little of each other." 
 
 Almost as if compelled, her lashes lifted and her eyes 
 met his. Her glance was puzzled, uncertain, slightly 
 confused. There was a deeper color than usual in her 
 cheeks. Loder felt something within his own conscious- 
 ness stir in response. 
 
 " You know you are yielding," he said suddenly. 
 
 Again she blushed. 
 
 He saw the blush, and knew that it was he his words, 
 his personality that had called it forth. In Chilcote's 
 actual semblance he had proved his superiority over 
 Chilcote. For the first time he had been given a tacit, 
 personal acknowledgment of his power. Involuntarily 
 he drew nearer to her. 
 
 " Let's get out of this crush," he said. 
 
 She made no answer except to bend her head ; and it 
 came to him that, for all her pride, she liked and un- 
 consciously yielded to domination. With a satisfied ges- 
 ture he turned to make a passage towards the door. 
 
 But the passage was more easily desired than made. 
 In the few moments since he had entered the supper- 
 room, the press of people had considerably thickened, 
 until a block had formed about the doorway. Drawing 
 Eve with him, he moved forward for a dozen paces, 
 then paused, unable to make further headway. 
 
 As they stood there he looked back at her. " What a 
 study in democracy a crowd always is ! " he said. 
 
 She responded with a bright appreciative glance, as 
 if surprised into naturalness. And he wondered sharply 
 what she would be like if her enthusiasms were really 
 aroused. Then a stir in the corridor outside caused a 
 movement inside the room; and with a certain display
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 121 
 
 of persistence he was enabled to make the desired passage 
 to the door. 
 
 There again they were compelled to halt; but though 
 tightly wedged into his new position, and guarding Eve 
 with one arm, he was free to survey the brilliantly 
 thronged corridor over the head of a man a few inches 
 shorter than himself, who stood directly in front of 
 him. 
 
 " What are we waiting for ? " he asked good- 
 humoredly, addressing the back of the stranger's head. 
 
 The man turned, displaying a genial face, a red mous- 
 tache, and an eye-glass. 
 
 " Hallo, Chilcote ! " he said. " Hope it's not on your 
 feet I'm standing ! " 
 
 Loder laughed. " No," he answered. " But don't 
 change the position. If you were an inch higher I should 
 be blind as well as crippled." 
 
 The other laughed. It was a pleasant surprise to find 
 Chilcote amiable under discomfort. He looked round 
 again in slight curiosity. 
 
 Loder felt the scrutiny. To create a diversion he 
 looked out along the corridor. " I believe we are wait- 
 ing for something ! " he exclaimed. " What's this ? " 
 Then quite abruptly he ceased to speak. 
 
 " Anything interesting ? " Eve touched his arm. 
 
 He said nothing; he made no effort to look round. 
 His thoughts as well as his words were suspended. 
 
 The man in front of him let his eye-glass fall from 
 his eye, then screwed it in again. 
 
 " Jove ! " he exclaimed. " Here comes our sorceress. 
 It's like the progress of a fairy princess. I believe this 
 is the meaning of our getting penned in here." He 
 chuckled delightedly. 
 
 Loder said nothing. He stared straight on over the 
 other's head. 
 
 Along the corridor, agreeably conscious of the hum 
 of admiration she aroused, came Lillian Astrupp, sur- 
 rounded by a little court. Her delicate face was lit 
 up, her eyes shone under the faint gleam of her hair; 
 her gown of gold embroidery swept round her gracefully.
 
 122 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 She was radiant and triumphant, but she was also excited. 
 The excitement was evident in her laugh, in her gestures, 
 in her eyes, as they turned quickly in one direction and 
 then another. 
 
 Loder. gazing in stupefaction over the other man's head, 
 saw it felt and understood it with a mind that leaped 
 back over a space of years. As in a shifting panorama, 
 he saw a night of disturbance and confusion in a far-off 
 Italian valley a confusion from which one face shone 
 out with something of the pale alluring radiance that 
 filtered over the hillside from the crescent moon. It 
 passed across his consciousness slowly, but with a slow 
 completeness; and in its light the incidents of the past 
 half-hour stood out in a new aspect. The echo of recol- 
 lection stirred by Lady Bramfell's voice the re-echo 
 of it in her sister's tones; his own blindness, his own 
 egregious assurance, all struck across his mind. 
 
 Meanwhile the party about Lillian drew nearer. He 
 felt with instinctive certainty that the supper-room was 
 its destination, but he remained motionless, held by a 
 species of fatalism. He watched her draw near with an 
 unmoved face, but in the brief space that passed while 
 she traversed the corridor, he gauged to the full the hold 
 that the new atmosphere, the new existence, had gained 
 over his mind. With an unlooked-for rush of feeling, 
 he realized how dearly he would part with it. 
 
 As Lillian came closer, the meaning of her manner 
 became clearer to him. She talked incessantly, laughing 
 now and then, but her eyes were never quiet. These 
 skimmed the length of the corridor, then glanced over 
 the heads crowded in the doorway. 
 
 " I'll have something quite sweet, Geoffrey," she was 
 saving to the man beside her, as she came within hearing, 
 " You know what I like a sort of snowflake wrapped 
 up in sugar." As she said the words her glance wandered 
 Loder saw it rest uninterestedly on a boy a yard or twc 
 in front of him, then move to the man over whose head 
 he gazed, then lift itself inevitably to his face. 
 
 The glance was quick and direct. He saw the look 
 cf recognition spring across it ; he saw her move forwarc
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 123 
 
 suddenly, as the crowd in the corridor parted to let her 
 pass. Then he saw what seemed to him a miracle. 
 
 Her whole expression altered, her lips parted, and she 
 colored with annoyance. She looked like a spoiled child 
 who seeing a bon-bon box, opens it to find it empty. 
 
 As the press about the doorway suddenly melted to 
 give her passage, the red-haired man in front of him was 
 the first to take advantage of the space. " Jove ! Lillian," 
 he said, moving forward, " you look as if you expected 
 Chilcote to be somebody else, and are disappointed to find 
 he's only himself ! " He laughed delightedly at his own 
 joke. 
 
 The words were exactly the stimulus Lillian needed. 
 She smiled her usual sweet smile as she turned her eyes 
 upon him. 
 
 " My dear Leonard, you're using your eye-glass ; and 
 when that happens you're never responsible for what 
 you see." Her words came more slowly and with a 
 touch of languid amusement. Her composure was sud- 
 denly restored. 
 
 Then for the first time Loder changed his position. 
 Moved by an impulse he made no effort to dissect, he 
 stepped closer to Eve's side and slipped his arm through 
 hers successfully concealing his left hand. 
 
 The warmth of her skin through her long glove thrilled 
 him unexpectedly. His impulse had been one of self- 
 defense, but the result was of a different character. At 
 the quick contact the wish to fight for to hold and defend 
 the position that had grown so dear, woke in renewed 
 force. With a sudden determination he turned again 
 towards Lillian. 
 
 " I caught the same impression without an eye-glass," 
 he said. " Why did you look like that? " He asked the 
 question steadily and with apparent carelessness, though 
 beneath his audacity his reason stood aghast his common 
 sense cried aloud that it was impossible for the eyes that 
 had seen his face in admiration, in love, in contempt, to 
 fail now in recognition. The air seemed breathless while 
 he spoke and waited. His impression of Lillian was 
 a shimmering of gold dress and gold hair ; all that he was
 
 124 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 physically conscious of was the pressure of his hand on 
 Eve's arm and the warmth of her skin through the soft 
 glove. Then abruptly the mist lifted. He saw Lillian's 
 eyes indifferent, amused, slightly contemptuous; and 
 a second later he heard her voice. 
 
 " My dear Jack," she said sweetly, " how absurd of 
 you! It was simply the contrast of your eyes peering 
 over Leonard's hair. It was like a gorgeous sunset with 
 a black cloud overhead." She laughed. " Do you see 
 what I mean, Eve ? " 
 
 Eve had been looking calmly ahead. She turned now 
 and smiled serenely. Loder felt no vibration of the arm 
 he held, yet by an instant intuition he knew that the two 
 women were antagonistic. He experienced it with the 
 divination that follows upon a moment of acute suspense. 
 He understood it, as he understood Lillian's look of 
 recognition when his forehead, eyes, and nose had shown 
 him to be himself, as she had known him; her blank 
 incredulity when his close shaven lips and chin had pro- 
 claimed him Chilcote. 
 
 He felt like a man who has looked into an abyss and 
 stepped back from the edge, outwardly calm but mental- 
 ly shaken. The commonplaces of life seemed for the 
 moment to hold deeper meanings. He did not hear Eve's 
 answer; he paid no heed to Lillian's next remark. He 
 saw her smile and turn again to the red-haired man ; he 
 saw her move on into the supper-room, followed by her 
 little court. Then he pressed the arm he was still holding. 
 He felt an urgent need of companionship of a human 
 expression to the crisis he had passed. 
 
 " Shall we get out of this ? " he asked again. 
 
 Eve looked up. 
 
 " Out of the room ? " she said. 
 
 He looked at her as he had looked before compelling 
 her regard. 
 
 " Out of the room and the house," he answered. 
 " Let us go home,"
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The necessary formalities of departure were speedily 
 got through. The passage of the corridors, the gaining 
 of the carriage, seemed to Loder to be marvelously simple 
 proceedings. Then, as he sat by Eve's side and again 
 felt the forward movement of the horses, he had leisure 
 for the first time to wonder whether the time that had 
 passed since last he occupied that position had actually 
 been lived through. 
 
 Only that night he had unconsciously compared one 
 incident in his life to a sketch in which the lights and 
 shadows have been obliterated and lost. Now that 
 picture rose before him, startlingly and incredibly intact. 
 He saw the sunlit houses of Santasalare, backgrounded 
 by the sunlit hills ; saw them as plainly as when he him- 
 self had sketched them on his memory. Every detail of 
 the scene remained the same, even to the central figure 
 only the eye and the hand of the artist had changed. 
 
 At this point Eve broke in upon his thoughts. Her 
 first words were curiously coincidental. 
 
 "What did you think of Lillian Astrupp to-night?" 
 she asked. "Wasn't her gown perfect?" 
 
 He lifted his head with a start of guilt. Then he 
 answered straight from his thoughts. 
 
 "I I didn't notice it," he said. "But her eyes re- 
 minded me of a cat's eyes and she walks like a cat. I 
 never seemed to see it until to-night." 
 
 Eve changed her position. 
 
 " She was very artistic," she said tentatively. " Don't 
 you think the gold gown was beautiful with her hair?" 
 
 Loder felt surprised. He was convinced that Eve dis- 
 liked the other, and he was not sufficiently versed in 
 women to understand her praise. 
 
 " I thought," he began. Then he wisely stopped, " I 
 didn't see the gown," he substituted. 
 
 Eve looked out at the window. " How unappreciative 
 men are ! " she said. But her tone was strangely free from 
 censure. 
 
 After that there was silence until Grosvenor Square
 
 126 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 was reached. Having left the carriage and passed into 
 the house, Eve paused for a moment at the foot of the 
 stairs to give an order to Crapham, who was still in 
 attendance in the hall ; and again Loder had an oppor- 
 tunity of studying her. As he looked, a sharp comparison 
 rose to his mind. 
 
 " A fairy princess ! " some one had said as Lillian 
 Astrupp came into view along the Bramfell's corridor; 
 and at the moment the simile had seemed particularly apt. 
 With her grace, her delicacy, her subtle attraction, she 
 might well be the outcome of imagination. But with 
 Eve it was different. She also was graceful and attractive 
 but it was grace and attraction of a different order. 
 One was beautiful with the beauty of the white rose that 
 springs from the hothouse and withers at the first touch 
 of harsh air; the other was beautiful with the beauty of 
 the wild rose on the cliffs above the sea, that keeps its 
 petals fine and transparent in face of salt spray and wet 
 mist. Eve too had her realm, but it was the realm of real 
 things. A great confidence, a feeling that here one might 
 rely, even if all other faiths were shaken, touched him 
 suddenly. For a moment he stood irresolute, watching 
 her mount the stairs with her easy assured step. Then 
 decision came to him. Fate favored him to-night! He 
 was in luck to-night! He would put his fortune to one 
 more test. He swung across the hall and ran up the 
 stairs. 
 
 His face was keen with interest as he reached her side. 
 The hard outline of his features and the hard grayness of 
 his eyes were softened as when he had paused that night 
 to talk with Lakeley. Action was the breath of his 
 nostrils, and his face changed under it as another man's 
 might change under the influence of stirring music or 
 good wine. 
 
 Eve saw the look, and again the uneasy expression of 
 surprise crossed her eyes. She paused, her hand resting 
 on the banister. 
 
 Loder looked at her directly. " Will you come into 
 the study, as you came that other night ? There's some-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 127 
 
 thing I want to say." He spoke quietly. He felt master 
 of himself and of her. 
 
 She hesitated, glanced at him, then glanced away. 
 
 "Will you come?" he said again. And as he said it 
 his eyes rested on the sweep of her thick eyelashes, the 
 curve of the black hair. 
 
 At last her lashes lifted, and the perplexity and doubt 
 in her eyes stirred him. Without waiting for her answer, 
 he leant forward. 
 
 " Say yes 1 " he urged. " I don't often ask for favors." 
 
 Still she hesitated ; then her decision was made for her. 
 With a new boldness he touched her arm, drawing her 
 forward gently but decisively towards Chilcote's rooms. 
 
 In the study a fire burned brightly ; the desk was laden 
 with papers; the lights were nicely adjusted; even the 
 chairs were in their accustomed places. Loder's senses 
 responded to each suggestion. It seemed but a day since 
 he had seen it last. It was precisely as he had left it 
 the niche needing but the man. 
 
 To hide his emotion he crossed the floor quickly and 
 drew a chair forward. In less than six hours he had run 
 up and down the scale of emotions. He had looked 
 despair in the face, until the sudden sight of Chilcote had 
 lifted him to the skies ; since then, surprise had assailed 
 him in its strongest form, and he had known the full 
 meaning of the word risk. From every contingency he 
 had come out conqueror. He bent over the chair as he 
 pulled it forward, to hide the expression in his eyes. 
 
 " Sit down ! " he said gently. 
 
 Eve moved towards him. She moved slowly, as if 
 half afraid. Many emotions stirred her distrust, un- 
 certainty, and a curious half-dominant, half-suppressed 
 questioning that it was difficult to define. Loder remem- 
 bered her shrinking coldness, her reluctant tolerance on 
 the night of his first coming, and his individuality, his 
 certainty of power kindled afresh. Never had he been 
 so vehemently himself; never had Chilcote seemed so 
 complete a shadow. 
 
 As Eve seated herself, he moved forward and leant 
 over the back of her chair. The impulse that had filled
 
 128 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 him in his interview with Renwick that had goaded 
 him as he drove to the reception was dominant again. 
 
 " I tried to say something as we drove to the Bram- 
 fell's to-night," he began. Like many men who possess 
 eloquence for an impersonal cause, he was brusque, even 
 blunt, in the stating of his own case. " May I hark 
 back and go on from where I broke off? " 
 
 Eve half turned. Her face was still puzzled and ques- 
 tioning. 
 
 " Of course." She sat forward again, clasping her 
 hands. 
 
 He looked thoughtfully at the back of her head, at 
 the slim outline of her shoulders, the glitter of the dia- 
 monds about her neck. 
 
 " Do you remember the day three weeks ago that we 
 talked together in this room? The day a great many 
 things seemed possible ? " 
 
 This time she did not look round. She kept her gaze 
 upon the fire. 
 
 "Do you remember?" he persisted quietly. In his 
 college days, men who heard that tone of quiet persis- 
 tence had been wont to lose heart. Eve heard it now for 
 the first time, and unconsciously answered to it. 
 
 " Yes, I remember," she said. 
 
 " On that day you believed in me " In his earnest- 
 ness he no longer simulated Chilcote, he spoke with his 
 own steady reliance. He saw Eve stir, he saw her un- 
 clasp and clasp her hands, but he went steadily on. 
 
 " On that day you saw me in a new light you 
 acknowledged me." He emphasized the slightly peculiar 
 word. " But since that day your feelings have changed 
 your faith in me has fallen away." He watched her 
 closely, but she made no sign, save to lean still nearer to 
 the fife. 
 
 He crossed his arms over the back of her chair. 
 
 " You were justified," he said suddenly. " I've not 
 been myself since that day." As he said the word his 
 coolness forsook him slightly. He loathed the necessary 
 lie, yet his egotism clamored for vindication. " All men 
 have their misfortunes," he went on; "there are times
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 129 
 
 there are days and weeks when I when my " 
 
 The word " nerves " touched his tongue, hung upon it, 
 then died away unspoken. 
 
 Very quietly, almost without a sound, Eve had risen 
 and was looking at him. She was standing very straight, 
 her face a little pale, the hand that rested on the arm of 
 her chair trembling slightly. 
 
 " John," she said quickly, " don't say that word 
 don't say that hideous word ' nerves ! ' I don't feel that 
 I can bear it to-night not just to-night. Can you un- 
 derstand ? " 
 
 Loder stepped back. Without comprehending, he felt 
 suddenly and strangely at a loss. Something in her face 
 struck him silent and perplexed. It seemed that with- 
 out preparation he had stepped upon dangerous ground. 
 With an undefined apprehension he waited, looking at 
 her. 
 
 " I can't explain it," she went on with nervous haste. 
 " I can't give any reasons ; but quite suddenly the the 
 farce has grown unbearable. I used not to think used 
 not even to care but suddenly things have changed, or 
 I have changed." She paused, confused and distressed. 
 " Why should it be ? Why should things change ? " She 
 asked the question sharply, as if in appeal against her 
 own incredulity. 
 
 Loder turned aside. He was afraid of the triumph 
 volcanic and irrepressible that her admission roused. 
 
 " Why ? why ? " she said again. 
 
 He turned back slowly. " You forget that I'm not a 
 magician," he said gently. " I hardly know what you 
 are speaking of." 
 
 For a moment she was silent ; but in that moment her 
 eyes spoke. Pain, distress, pride all strove for expres- 
 sion. At last her lips parted. 
 
 " Do you say that in seriousness ? " she asked. 
 
 It was no moment for fencing, and Loder knew it. 
 " In seriousness," he replied shortly. 
 
 " Then I shall speak seriously too." Her voice shook 
 slightly and the color came back into her face, but the 
 hand on the arm of the chair ceased to tremble.
 
 130 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " For more than four years I have known that you 
 take drugs for more than four years I have acquiesced 
 in your deceptions, in your meannesses " In the in- 
 tensity of her feeling, her voice suddenly broke off. 
 
 There was an instant's silence. Then Loder stepped 
 forward. 
 
 " You knew for four years ? " he said very slowly. 
 For the first time that night he remembered Chilcote and 
 forgot himself. 
 
 Eve lifted her head with a quick gesture. It seemed 
 as if, in flinging off discretion and silence, she breathed 
 in the new relief of speech. 
 
 " Yes, I knew. Perhaps I should have spoken when 
 I first surprised the secret; but it's all so past that it's 
 useless to speculate now. It was Fate, I suppose. I 
 was very young, you were very unapproachable, and 
 and we had no love to make the way easy." For a sec- 
 ond her glance faltered, and she looked away. " A wom- 
 an's a girl's disillusionment is a very sad comedy : it 
 should never have an audience." She laughed a little 
 bitterly. " I saw all the deceits, all the subterfuges, all 
 the lies." She said the word deliberately, meeting his 
 eyes. 
 
 Again he thought of Chilcote, but his face paled. 
 
 " I saw it all," she went on. " I lived with it all till I 
 grew hard and indifferent till I acquiesced in your 
 ' nerves ' as readily as all the rest of the world who 
 hadn't suspected and didn't know." Again she laughed 
 nervously. " I thought the indifference would last for- 
 ever. If one lives in a groove for years one gets frozen 
 up. I never felt more petrified than on the night Mr. 
 Fraide spoke to me of you asked me to use my influ- 
 ence. Then on that night " 
 
 " Yes. On that night ? " Loder's voice was tense. 
 
 But her excitement had suddenly fallen. Whether his 
 glance had quelled it or whether the force of her feel- 
 ing had worked itself out it was hard to say; but her 
 eyes had lost their resolution. She stood hesitating for 
 a moment, then she turned and moved to the mantel 
 piece.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 131 
 
 " That night you found me changed ? " Loder was 
 insistent. 
 
 " Changed and yet not changed." She spoke reluc- 
 tantly, with averted head. 
 
 "And what did you think?" 
 
 Again she was silent; then again a faint excitement 
 tinged her cheeks. 
 
 " I thought," she began. " It seemed " Once more 
 
 she paused hampered by her own uncertainty, her own 
 sense of puzzling incongruity. 
 
 " I don't know why I speak like this," she went on 
 at last, as if in justification of herself " why I want to 
 speak. But a feeling an extraordinary, incomprehen- 
 sible feeling seems to urge me on. The same feeling 
 that came to me on the day we had tea together; the 
 feeling that made me that almost made me believe " 
 
 " Believe what ? " The words escaped him without 
 volition. 
 
 At sound of his voice she turned. " Believe that a 
 miracle had happened; that you had found strength 
 had freed yourself." 
 
 "From drugs?" 
 
 " From drugs." 
 
 In the silence that followed Loder lived through a 
 century of suggestion and indecision. His first feeling 
 was for himself, but his first clear thought was for Chil- 
 cote and their compact. He stood, metaphorically, on a 
 stone in the middle of a stream balancing on one foot, 
 then on the other ; looking to the right bank, then to the 
 left. At last, responding to the call of necessity, in- 
 spiration came. By one plunge he might save both Chil- 
 cote and himself! 
 
 He crossed quickly to the fireplace and stood by Eve. 
 
 " You were right in your belief," he said. " For all 
 that time from the night you spoke to me of Fraide 
 to the day you had tea in this room I never touched a 
 drug." 
 
 She moved suddenly, and he saw her face. " John," 
 she said unsteadily. " You I I have known you to He 
 to me about other things."
 
 1S2 JOHN GHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 With a hasty movement he averted his head. The 
 doubt, the appeal in her words shocked him. The whole 
 isolation of her life seemed summed up in the one 
 short sentence. For the instant he forgot Chilcote. 
 With a reaction of feeling he turned to her agaia 
 
 " Look at me ! " he said brusquely. 
 
 She raised her eyes. 
 
 " Do you believe now that I'm speaking the truth ? " 
 
 She searched his eyes intently the doubt and hesi- 
 tancy still struggling in her face. 
 
 " But the last three weeks ? " she said reluctantly. 
 " How can you ask me to believe ? " 
 
 Loder had expected this and he met it steadily ; never- 
 theless his courage faltered. To deceive this woman, 
 even to justify himself, had in the last half-hour become 
 something sacrilegious. 
 
 " The last three weeks must be buried," he said hur- 
 riedly. " No man could free himself suddenly from 
 from a vice." He broke off abruptly. He hated Chil- 
 cote; he hated himself. Then Eve's face, raised in dis- 
 tressed appeal, overshadowed all scruples. 
 
 " You have been silent and patient for years," he said 
 suddenly. " Can you be patient and silent a little 
 longer ? " He spoke without consideration. He was 
 aware of no selfishness beneath his words. In the first 
 exercise of conscious strength, the primitive desire to 
 reduce all elements to his own sovereignty submerged 
 every other emotion. 
 
 " I can't enter into the thing. Like you, I give no 
 explanations. I can only tell you that on the day we 
 talked together in this room I was myself in the full 
 possession of my reason, the full knowledge of my own 
 capacities. The man you have known in the last three 
 weeks, the man you have imagined in the last four years 
 is a shadow, an unreality a weakness in human form. 
 There is a new Chilcote if you will only see him." 
 
 Eve was trembling as he ceased ; her face was flushed, 
 there was a strange brightness in her eyes. She was 
 moved beyond herself. 
 
 " But the other you the old you ? "
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 133 
 
 " You must be patient." He looked down into the fire. 
 " Times like the last three weeks will come again must 
 come again they are inevitable. When they do come, 
 you must shut your eyes you must blind yourself. You 
 must ignore them and me. Is it a compact ? " He still 
 avoided her eyes. 
 
 She turned to him. " Yes if you wish it," she said 
 below her breath. 
 
 He was conscious of her glance, but he dared not meet 
 it. He felt sick at the part he was playing, yet he held 
 to it tenaciously. 
 
 " I wonder if you could do what few men and fewer 
 women are capable of ? " he asked at last. " I wonder 
 if you could learn to live in the present ? " He lifted his 
 head slowly and met her eyes. 
 
 " This is an an experiment ; and, like all experiments, 
 it has good phases and bad. When the bad phases come 
 around I I want you to tell yourself that you are not 
 altogether alone in your unhappiness; that I am suffer- 
 ing too in another way." 
 
 There was silence when he had spoken, and for a 
 space it seemed that Eve would make no response. Then 
 the last surprise in a day of surprises came to him. With 
 a slight stir, a slight quick rustle of skirts, she stepped 
 forward and laid her hand in his. 
 
 The gesture was simple and very sweet ; her eyes were 
 soft and full of light as she raised her face to his her 
 lips parted in unconscious appeal. 
 
 There is no surrender so seductive as the surrender of 
 a proud woman. Loder's blood stirred; the undeniable 
 suggestion of the moment thrilled and disconcerted him 
 in a tumult of thought. Honor, duty, principle rose in 
 a triple barrier; but honor, duty, and principle are but 
 words to a headstrong man. The full significance of his 
 position came to him as it had never come before. His 
 hand closed on hers, he bent towards her, his pulses beat- 
 ing unevenly. 
 
 " Eve ! " he said. Then at sound of his voice he sud- 
 denly hesitated. It was the voice of a man who has for- 
 gotten everything but his own desire.
 
 134 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 For a second he stayed motionless; then very quietly 
 he drew away from her, releasing her hand. 
 " No," he said ; " no I haven't got the right." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 That night, for almost the first time since he had 
 adopted his dual role, Loder slept ill. He was not a 
 man over whom imagination held any powerful sway 
 his doubts and misgivings seldom ran to speculation 
 upon future possibilities; nevertheless the fact that, con- 
 sciously or unconsciously, he had adopted a new attitude 
 toward's Eve came home to him with unpleasant force 
 during the hours of darkness ; and long before the first 
 hint of daylight had slipped through the heavy window- 
 curtains, he had arranged a plan of action a plan where- 
 in, by the simple method of altogether avoiding her, he 
 might soothe his own conscience and safeguard Chil- 
 cote's domestic interests. 
 
 It was a satisfactory if a somewhat negative arrange- 
 ment, and he rose next morning with a feeling that things 
 would inevitably shape themselves. But sometimes 
 chance has a disconcerting knack of forestalling our 
 best-planned schemes. He dressed slowly and descended 
 to his solitary breakfast with the soothing sensation of 
 having put last night out of consideration by the turning 
 over of a new leaf; but scarcely had he opened Chilcote's 
 letters, scarcely had he taken a cursory glance at the 
 morning's newspaper, than it was borne in upon him 
 that not only a new leaf but a whole sheaf of new leaves 
 had been turned in his prospects by a hand infinitely 
 more powerful and arbitrary than his own. He realized 
 within the space of a few moments that the leisure Eve 
 might have claimed, the leisure he might have been 
 tempted to devote to her, was no longer his to dispose 
 of being already demanded^ of him from a quarter that 
 allowed of no refusal. 
 
 For the first rumbling of the political earthquake that
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 135 
 
 was to shake the country made itself audible beyond de- 
 nial on that morning of March the 27th, when the news 
 spread through England that, in view of the disorganized 
 state of the Persian army and the Shah's inability to 
 suppress the open insurrection of the border tribes in the 
 northeastern districts of Meshed, Russia, with a great 
 show of magnanimity, had come to the rescue by dis- 
 patching a large armed force from her military station 
 at Merv across the Persian frontier to the seat of the 
 disturbance. 
 
 To many hundreds of Englishmen who read their 
 papers on that morning, this announcement conveyed but 
 little. That there is such a country as Persia we all 
 know; that English interests predominate in the south 
 and Russian interests in the north we have all super- 
 ficially understood from childhood; but in this knowl- 
 edge, coupled with the fact that Persia is comfortably 
 far away, we are apt to rest content. It is only to the 
 eyes that see through long-distance glasses, the minds 
 that regard the present as nothing more nor less than an 
 inevitable link joining the future with the past, that this 
 distant debatable land stands out in its true political sig- 
 nificance. 
 
 To the average reader of news, the statement of Rus- 
 sia's move seemed scarcely more important than had the 
 first report of the border risings in January; but to the 
 men who had watched the growth of the disturbance, it 
 came charged with meaning. Through the entire ranks 
 of the Opposition, from Fraide himself downwards, it 
 caused a thrill of expectation that peculiar prophetic 
 sensation that every politician has experienced at some 
 moment of his career. 
 
 And in no member of his party did this feeling strike 
 deeper root than in Loder. Imbued with a lifelong in- 
 terest in the Eastern question, specially equipped by per- 
 sonal knowledge to hold and proclaim an opinion upon 
 Persian affairs, he read the portents with clear insight. 
 Seated at Chilcote's table, surrounded by Gtilcote's let- 
 ters and papers, he forgot the breakfast that was slowly 
 growing cold forgot the interests and dangers, personal
 
 136 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 or pleasurable, of the night before, while his mental eyes 
 persistently conjured up the map of Persia traveling 
 with steady deliberation from Merv to Meshed, from 
 Meshed to Herat, from Herat to the Empire of India! 
 For it was not the fact that the Hazaras had risen against 
 the Shah that occupied the thinking mind, nor was it the 
 fact that Russian and not Persian troops were destined 
 to subdue them, but the deeply important consideration 
 that an armed Russian force had crossed the frontier 
 and was encamped within twenty miles of Meshed 
 Meshed, upon which covetous Russian eyes have rested 
 since the days of Peter the Great. 
 
 So Loder's thoughts ran as he read and re-read the 
 news from the varying political standpoints, and so they 
 continued to run when some hours later an urgent tele- 
 phone message from " The St. George's Gazette " asked 
 him to call at Lakeley's office. 
 
 The message was interesting as well as imperative, 
 and he made an instant response. The thought of Lake- 
 ley's keen eyes and shrewd enthusiasms always pos- 
 sessed a strong attraction for his own slower tempera- 
 ment ; but even had this impetus been lacking, the knowl- 
 edge that at " The St. George's " offices, if anywhere, 
 the true feelings of the party were invariably voiced 
 would have drawn him without hesitation. 
 
 It was scarcely twelve o'clock when he turned the 
 corner of the tall building, but already the keen spirit 
 that Lakeley everywhere diffused, was making itself felt 
 Loder smiled to himself as his eyes fell on the day's pla- 
 cards with their uncompromising headings, and passed 
 onward from the string of gaily painted carts drawn up 
 to receive their first consignment of the paper to the 
 troop of eager newsboys passing in and out of the big 
 swing-doors with their piled-up bundles of the early 
 edition ; and with a renewed thrill of anticipation and 
 energy, he passed through the doorway and ran up- 
 stairs. 
 
 Passing unchallenged through the long corridor that 
 led to Lakeley's office, he caught a fresh impression of 
 action and vitality from the click of the tape-machines in
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 
 
 the sub-editors' room and a glimpse through the open 
 door of the sub-editors themselves, each employed upon 
 some special task ; then, deprived of time for further 
 observation, he found himself at Lakeley's door. With- 
 out waiting to knock, as he had felt compelled to do on 
 the one or two previous occasions that business had 
 brought him there, he immediately turned the handle 
 and entered the room. 
 
 Editors' offices differ but little in general effect. Lake- 
 ley's surroundings were rather more elaborate than is 
 usual, as became the dignity of the oldest Tory evening 
 paper, but the atmosphere was unmistakable. As Loder 
 entered, he glanced up from the desk at which he was 
 sitting, but instantly returned to his task of looking 
 through and marking the pile of early evening editions 
 that were spread around him. His coat was off and 
 hung on the chair behind him, and he pulled vigorously 
 on a long cigar. 
 
 " Hallo ! That's right ! " he said laconically. " Make 
 yourself comfortable half a second, while I skim ' The 
 St. Stephen's.' * 
 
 His salutation pleased Loder. With a nod of acqui- 
 escense he crossed the office to the brisk fire that burned 
 in the grate. 
 
 For a moment or two Lakeley worked steadily, occa- 
 sionally breaking the quiet by an unintelligible remark 
 or a vigorous stroke of his pencil. At last he dropped 
 the paper with a gesture of satisfaction and leant back in 
 his chair. 
 
 "Well," he said, "what d'you think of this? How's 
 this for a complication ? " 
 
 Loder turned around. " I think," he said quietly, 
 " that we can't overestimate it." 
 
 Lakeley laughed and took a long pull at his cigar. 
 " And we mustn't be afraid to let the Sefborough crowd 
 know it, eh ? " He waved his hand to the poster of the 
 first edition that hung before his desk. 
 
 Loder, following his glance, smiled. 
 
 Lakeley laughed again. " They might have seen it 
 all along, if they'd cared to deduce," he said. " Did they
 
 138 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 really believe that Russia was going to sit calmly look- 
 ing across the Heri Rud while the Shah played at mo- 
 bilizing? But what became of you last night? We had 
 a regular prophesying of the whole business at Bram- 
 fell's; Fraide looked in for five minutes. I went on with 
 him to the club afterwards and was there when the news 
 came in. 'Twas a great night ! " 
 
 Loder's face lighted up. " I can imagine it," he said 
 with an unusual touch of warmth. 
 
 Lakeley watched him intently for a moment. Then 
 with a quick action he leant forward and rested his el- 
 bows on the desk. 
 
 " It's going to be something more than imagination 
 for you, Chilcote," he said impressively. " It's going to 
 be solid reality ! " He spoke rapidly, and with rather 
 more than his usual shrewd decisiveness ; then he paused 
 to see the effect of his announcement. 
 
 Loder was still studying the flaring poster. At the 
 other's words he turned sharply. Something in Lake- 
 ley's voice, something in his manner, arrested him. A 
 tinge of color crossed his face. 
 
 "Reality?" he said. "What do you mean?" 
 
 For a further space his companion watched him ; then 
 with a rapid movement he tilted back his chair. 
 
 " Yes," he said, half to himself. " Yes : old Fraide's 
 instincts are never far out. He's quite right. You're 
 the man ! " 
 
 Still quietly, but with a strange under-glow of excite- 
 ment, Loder left the fire, and, coming forward, took a 
 chair at Lakeley's desk. 
 
 " Do you mind telling me what you're driving at ? " 
 he asked in his old laconic voice. 
 
 Lakeley still scrutinized him with an air of brisk satis- 
 faction; then with a gesture of finality he tossed his 
 cigar away. 
 
 " My dear chap," he said, " there's going to be a breach 
 somewhere, and Fraide says you're the man to step in 
 and fill it ! Five years ago, when things looked lively on 
 the Gulf, and the Bundar Abbas business came to light, 
 you did some promising work, and a reputation like
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 139 
 
 that sticks to a man, even when he turns slacker! I 
 won't deny that you've slacked abominably," he added as 
 Loder made an uneasy movement, " but slacking has dif- 
 ferent effects. Some men run to seed; others mature. 
 I had almost put you down on the black-list, but I've 
 altered my mind in the last couple of months." 
 
 Again Loder stirred in his seat. A host of emotions 
 were stirring in his mind. Every word wrung from 
 Lakeley was another stimulus to pride another subtle 
 tribute to the curious force of personality. 
 
 "Well?" he said. "Well?" 
 
 Lakeley smiled. " We all know that Sefborough's 
 Ministry is well, top-heavy " he said. " Sefborough 
 is building his card-house just a story too high. It's a 
 toss-up what'll upset the balance. It might be the Army, 
 of course or it might be Education. But it might 
 quite as well be a matter of foreign policy ! " 
 
 They looked at each other in comprehensive silence. 
 
 " You know as well as I do that it's not the question 
 of whether Russia comes into Persia but the question 
 of whether Russia goes out of Persia, when these Haza- 
 ras are subdued. I'll lay you what you like, Chilcote, 
 that within one week we hear that the risings are sup- 
 pressed, but that Russia, instead of retiring, has cud- 
 vanccd those tempting twenty miles and comfortably en- 
 sconced herself at Meshed much as she dropped down 
 upon Ashurada sixty years ago." 
 
 Lakeley's nervous energetic figure was braced, his 
 light-blue eyes brightened by the intensity of his interest. 
 
 " If this news comes before the Easter recess," he went 
 on, " the first nail can be hammered in on the motion 
 for adjournment. And if the right man does it in the 
 right way, I'll lay my life 'twill be a nail in Sefborough's 
 coffin." 
 
 Loder sat very still. Overwhelming possibilities had 
 suddenly opened before him. In a moment the unreality 
 of the past months had become real ; a tangible justifica- 
 tion of himself and his imposture was suddenly made 
 possible. In the stress of understanding, he too leant
 
 140 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 forward and, resting his elbows on the desk, took his 
 face between his hands. 
 
 For a space Lakeley made no remark. To him, man 
 and man's moods came second in interest to his paper 
 and his party politics. That Chilcote should be conscious 
 of the glories he had opened up seemed only natural 
 that he should show that consciousness in a becoming 
 gravity only right. For some seconds he made no at- 
 tempt to disturb Loder ; but at last his own irrepressible 
 activity made a longer silence unendurable. He caught 
 up his pencil and tapped on the desk. 
 
 " Chilcote," he said quickly, and with a gleam of sud- 
 den anxiety, " you're not by any chance doubtful of 
 yourself ? " 
 
 At sound of his voice, Loder lifted his face; it was 
 pale again, but the energy and the resolution that had 
 come into it when Lakeley first spoke were still to be 
 seen. 
 
 " No, Lakeley," he said very slowly, " it's not the sort 
 of moment in which a man doubts himself." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 And so it came about that Loder was freed from one 
 responsibility to undertake another. From the morning 
 of March the 27th, when Lakeley had expounded his 
 political programme in the offices of " The St. George's 
 Gazette," to the afternoon of April the ist he found 
 himself a central figure in the whirlpool of activity that 
 formed itself in Conservative circles. 
 
 With the acumen for which he was noted, Lakeley had 
 touched the keystone of the situation on that morning; 
 and succeeding events each fraught with its own im- 
 portance had but established the precision of his fore- 
 cast. 
 
 Minutely watchful of Russia's attitude, Fraide quietly 
 organized his forces and strengthened his position with 
 a statesman-like grasp of opportunity; and to Loder the
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 141 
 
 attributes displayed by his leader during those trying 
 days, formed an endless and absorbing study. Setting 
 the thought of Chilcote aside, ignoring his own position 
 and the risks he daily ran, he fully yielded to the glamour 
 of the moment ; and in the first freedom of a loose rein 
 gave unreservedly all that he possessed of activity, ca- 
 pacity and determination to the cause that claimed him. 
 
 Singularly privileged in a constant personal contact 
 with Fraide, he learned many valuable lessons of con- 
 trol and organization in those five vital days during 
 which the tactics of a whole party hung upon one item 
 of news from a country thousands of miles away. For 
 should Russia subdue the insurgent Hazaras and, laden 
 with the honors of the peacemaker, retire across the 
 frontier, then the political arena would remain undis- 
 turbed ; but should the all-important movement predicted 
 by Lakeley become an accepted fact before Parliament 
 rose for the Easter recess, then the first blow in the fight 
 that would rage during the succeeding session must in- 
 evitably be struck. In the meantime it was the difficult 
 position of the leader of the Opposition to wait and 
 watch and yet preserve his dignity. 
 
 It was early in the afternoon of March the 3ist that 
 Loder, in response to a long-standing invitation, lunched 
 quietly with the Fraides. Being delayed by some com- 
 munications from Wark, he was a few minutes late in 
 keeping his appointment ; and, on being shown into the 
 drawing-room, he found the little group of three that 
 was to make up the party already assembled Fraide, 
 Lady Sarah, and Eve. As he entered the room they 
 ceased to speak, and all three turned in his direction. 
 
 In the first moment he had a vague impression of re- 
 sponding suitably to Lady Sarah's cordial greeting; but 
 he knew that immediately and unconsciously his eyes 
 turned to Eve and that a quick sense of surprise and sat- 
 isfaction passed through him at sight of her. For an in- 
 stant he wondered how she would mark his avoidance 
 of her since their last eventful interview, then instantly 
 he blamed himself for the passing doubt. For before 
 all things, he knew her to be a woman of the world.
 
 142 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 He took Fraide's outstretched hand, and again he 
 looked towards Eve, waiting for her first words. 
 
 She met his glance, but said nothing. Instead of 
 speaking, she smiled at him a smile that was far more 
 reassuring than any speech a smile that in a single 
 second conveyed forgiveness, approbation, and a warm, 
 almost tender, sense of sympathy and comprehension. 
 The remembrance of that smile stayed with him long 
 after they were seated at table; and far into the future 
 the remembrance of the lunch itself, with its pleasant 
 private sense of satisfaction, was destined to return to 
 him in retrospective moments. The delightful atmos- 
 phere of the Fraides' home-life had always been a won- 
 der and an enigma to him; but on this day he seemed 
 to grasp its meaning by a new light, as he watched Eve 
 soften under its influence and felt himself drawn imper- 
 ceptibly from the position of a speculative outsider to 
 that of an intimate. It was a fresh side to the complex 
 fascinating life of which his chief was the master spirit. 
 
 These reflections had grown agreeably familiar to his 
 mind; the talk, momentarily diverted into social chan- 
 nels, was quietly drifting back to the inevitable question 
 of the " situation " that, in private moments, was never 
 far from their lips, when the event that was to mark 
 and separate that day from those that had preceded it 
 was unceremoniously thrust upon them. 
 
 Without announcement or apology, the door was sud- 
 denly flung open and Lakeley entered the room. 
 
 His face was brimming with excitement and his eyes 
 flashed. In the first haste of the entry he failed to see 
 that there were ladies in the room, and crossing instantly 
 to Fraide, laid an open telegram before him. " This is 
 official, sir ! " he said. Then he glanced around the 
 table. 
 
 " Lady Sarah ! " he exclaimed. " Can you forgive 
 me? But I'd have given a hundred pounds to be the 
 first with this ! " He looked back at Fraide. 
 
 Lady Sarah rose and held out her hands. " Mr. Lake- 
 ley," she said, " I more than understand ! " There was
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 143 
 
 a thrill in her warm cordial voice, and her eyes also 
 turned towards her husband. 
 
 Of the whole party Fraide alone was perfectly calm. 
 He sat very still, his small thin figure erect and dignified, 
 as his eyes scanned the message that meant so much. 
 
 Eve, who had sprung from her seat and passed around 
 the table at sound of Lakeley's news, was leaning over 
 his shoulder, reading the telegram with him. At the last 
 word she lifted her head, her face flushed with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " How splendid it must be to be a man ! " she ex- 
 claimed. And without premeditation her eyes and Loder's 
 met. 
 
 In this manner came the news from Persia, and with 
 it Loder's definite call. In the momentary stress of ac- 
 tion it was impossible that any thought of Chilcote could 
 obtrude itself. Events had followed each other too rap- 
 idly, decisive action had been too much thrust upon him 
 to allow hesitation; and it was in this spirit, under this 
 vigorous pressure, that he made his attack upon the 
 Government on the day that followed Fraide's luncheon 
 party. 
 
 That indefinable attentiveness, that alert sensation of 
 impending storm, that is so strong an index of the par- 
 liamentary atmosphere, was very keen on that mem- 
 orable 1st of April. It was obvious in the crowded 
 benches on both sides of the House ; in the oneness of 
 purpose that insensibly made itself felt through the 
 ranks of the Opposition and found definite expression in 
 Fraide's stiff figure and tightly shut lips ; in the unmis- 
 takable uneasiness that lay upon the Ministerial benches. 
 
 But notwithstanding these indications of battle, the 
 early portion of the proceedings was unmarked by ex- 
 citement, being tinged with the purposeless lack of vi- 
 tality that had of late marked all affairs of the Sef- 
 borough Ministry; and it was not until the adjournment 
 of the House for the Easter recess had at last been 
 moved, that the spirit of activity hovering in the air de-
 
 144 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 scended and galvanized the assembly into life. It was 
 then, amid a stir of interest, that Loder slowly rose. 
 
 Many curious incidents have marked the speech-mak- 
 ing annals of the House of Commons, but it is doubtful 
 whether it has ever been the lot of a member to hear 
 his own voice raised for the first time on a subject of 
 vital interest to his party having been denied all initial 
 assistance of minor questions asked or unimportant 
 amendments proposed. Of all those gathered together 
 in the great building on that day only one man appre- 
 ciated the difficulty of Loder's position and that man 
 was Loder himself. 
 
 He rose slowly and stood silent for a couple of sec- 
 onds his body braced, his fingers touching the sheaf 
 of notes that lay in front of him. To the waiting house 
 the silence was effective. It might mean over-assurance 
 or it might mean a failure of nerve at a critical moment. 
 Either possibility had a tinge of piquancy. Moved by 
 the same impulse, fifty pairs of eyes turned upon him 
 with new interest; but up in the Ladies' Gallery Eve 
 clasped her hands in sudden apprehension ; and Fraide, 
 sitting stiffly in his seat, turned and shot one swift 
 glance at the man on whom, against prudence and prece- 
 dent, he had pinned his faith. The glance was swift 
 but very searching, and, with a characteristic movement 
 of his wiry shoulders, he resumed his position and with 
 it his usual grave attentive attitude. At the same mo- 
 ment Loder lifted his head and began to speak. 
 
 Here at the outset his inexperience met him. His 
 voice, pitched too low, only reached those directly near 
 him. It was a moment of great strain. Eve, listening 
 intently, drew a long breath of suspense and let her 
 fingers drop apart. The skeptical watchful eyes that 
 faced him line upon line seemed to flash and brighten 
 with critical interest. Only Fraide made no change of 
 expression : he sat placid, serious, attentive with the 
 shadow of a smile behind his eyes. 
 
 Again Loder paused, but this time the pause was 
 shorter. The ordeal he had dreaded and waited for was 
 past, and he saw his way clearly. With the old move-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. H5 
 
 ment of the shoulders, he straightened himself and once 
 more began to speak. This time his voice rang quietly 
 true and commanding across the floor of the House. 
 
 No first step can be really great, it must of necessity 
 possess more of prophecy than of achievement never- 
 theless it is by the first step that a man marks the value, 
 not only of his cause, but of himself. Following broadly 
 on the lines that tradition has laid down for the Con- 
 servative orator, Loder disguised rather than displayed 
 the vein of strong persuasive eloquence that was his 
 natural gift. The occasion that might possibly justify 
 such a display of individuality might lie with the future, 
 but it had no application to the present. For the mo- 
 ment, his duty was to voice his party sentiments with 
 as much lucidity, as much logic, and as much calm con- 
 viction as lay within his capacity. 
 
 Standing quietly in Chilcote's place, he was conscious 
 with a deep sense of gravity of the peculiarity of his posi- 
 tion; and perhaps it was this unconscious and unstudied 
 seriousness that lent him the tone of weight and judg- 
 ment so essential to the cause he had in hand. It has 
 always been difficult to arouse the interest of the House 
 on matters of British policy in Persia. Once aroused, 
 it may, it is true, reach fever-heat with remarkable ra- 
 pidity ; but the initial stages offer that worst danger to 
 the man who would introduce the subject the dread of 
 an apathetic audience. But from this consideration 
 Loder, by his sharp consciousness of personal difficulties, 
 was given immunity. 
 
 Pitching his voice in that calmly masterful tone that 
 beyond all others compels attention, he took up his sub- 
 ject, treating it with dispassionate force. With great 
 skill he touched on the steady southward advance of 
 Russia into Persian territory from the early days when, 
 by a curious irony of fate, Russian and British enter- 
 prise combined to make entry into the country under 
 the sanction of the Grand Duke of Moscovy, up to the 
 present hour when this great power of Russia long 
 since alienated by interests and desires from her former 
 co-operator had taken a step which, in the eyes of every
 
 146 JOHN CH1LCOTE; OR, 
 
 thinking man, must possess a deep significance. With 
 quiet persistence he pointed out the peculiar position of 
 Meshed, in the distant province of Khorasan ; its vast 
 distance from the Persian Gulf, round which British 
 power and influence center, and the consequently alarm- 
 ing position of hundreds of traders who, in the security 
 of British sovereignty, are fighting their way upward 
 from India, from Afghanistan, even from England her- 
 self. 
 
 Following up" his point, he dilated on those subjects 
 of the British Crown who, cut off from adequate assis- 
 tance, can only turn in personal or commercial peril to 
 the protective power of the nearest consulate. Then, 
 quietly demanding the attention of his hearers, he mar- 
 shalled -fact upon fact to demonstrate the isolation and 
 inadequacy of a consulate so situated; the all but arbi- 
 trary power of Russia, who in her new occupation of 
 Meshed had only two considerations to withhold her 
 from open aggression. The knowledge of England as a 
 very considerable but a very distant power; the knowl- 
 edge of Persia as an imminent but wholly impotent fac- 
 tor in the case! 
 
 Having stated his opinions, he reverted to the motive 
 of his speech his desire to put forward a strong pro- 
 test against the adjournment of the House without an 
 assurance from the Government that immediate meas- 
 ures would be taken to safeguard British interest in 
 Meshed and throughout the province of Khorasan. 
 
 The immediate outcome of Loder's speech was all that 
 his party had desired. The effect on the House had 
 been marked; and when no satisfactory response com- 
 ing to his demand he had in still more resolute and in- 
 sistent terms called for a division on the motion for ad- 
 journment, the result had been an appreciable fall in 
 the Government majority. 
 
 To Loder himself the realization that he had at last 
 even in part vindicated and justified himself by indi- 
 vidual action had a peculiar effect. His position had
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 147 
 
 been altered in one remarkable particular. Before this 
 day he alone had known himself to be strong; now the 
 knowledge was shared by others, and he was human 
 enough to be susceptible to the change. 
 
 The first poignant appreciation of it came immediately 
 after the excitement of the division, when Fraide, sing- 
 ling him out, took his arm and pressed it affectionately. 
 
 " My dear Chilcote," he said, " we are all proud of 
 you ! " Then, looking up into his face, he added in a 
 graver tone, " But always keep your mind upon the fu- 
 ture; never be blinded by the present however bright 
 it seems." 
 
 At the touch of his hand, at the spontaneous approval 
 of his first words, Loder's pride thrilled, and in a vehe- 
 ment rush of ambition his senses answered to the praise. 
 Then, as Fraide in all unconsciousness added his second 
 sentence, the hot glow of feeling suddenly chilled. In 
 a sweep of intuitive reaction the meaning and the danger 
 of his falsely real position extinguished his excitement 
 and turned his triumph cold. With an involuntary gest- 
 ure he withdrew his arm. 
 
 " You're very good, sir ! " he said. " And you're 
 very right. We never should forget that there is a fu- 
 ture." 
 
 The old man glanced up, surprised by the tone. 
 
 " Quite so, Chilcote ! " he said kindly. " But we only 
 advise those in whom we really believe to look towards 
 it. Shall we find my wife? I know she will want to 
 bear you home with us." 
 
 But Loder's joy in himself and his achievement had 
 dropped from him. He shrank suddenly from Lady 
 Sarah's congratulations, from Eve's warm silent appro- 
 bation. 
 
 " Thanks, sir ! " he said, " but I don't feel fit for so- 
 ciety. A touch of my nerves, I suppose." He laughed 
 shortly. " But do you mind saying to Eve that I hope 
 I have satisfied her?" He added this as if in half- 
 reluctant afterthought. Then, with a short pressure of 
 Fraide's hand, he turned, evading the many groups that 
 waited to claim him, and passed out of the House alone.
 
 Hi JOHN CHILGOTE; OR, 
 
 Hailing a cab, he drove to Grosvenor Square. All 
 the exaltation of an hour ago had turned to ashes. His 
 excitement had found its culmination in a sense of futil- 
 ity and premonition. 
 
 He met no one in the hall or on the stairs of Chilcote's 
 house, and on entering the study he found that also de- 
 serted. Greening had been amongst the most absorbed 
 of those who had listened to his speech. Passing at once 
 into the room, he crossed as if by instinct to the desk 
 and there halted. On the top of some unopened letters 
 lay the significant yellow envelope of a telegram the 
 telegram that in an unformed, subconscious way had 
 sprung to his expectation on the moment of Fraide's 
 congratulation. 
 
 Very quietly he picked it up, opened, read it and, with 
 the automatic caution that had become habitual to him, 
 carried it across the room and dropped it into the fire. 
 This done, he returned to the desk, glanced through the 
 letters that awaited Chilcote and, scribbling the neces- 
 sary notes upon their margins, left them in readiness for 
 Greening. Then, moving with the same quiet suppres- 
 sion, he passed from the room, down the stairs and out 
 into the street by the way he had come. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 On the fifth day after the momentous first of April 
 on which he had recalled Loder and resumed his own 
 life, Chilcote left his house and walked towards Bond 
 Street. Though the morning was clear and the air 
 almost warm for the time of year, he was wearing a 
 heavy overcoat, a muffler, and a pair of doeskin gloves. 
 As he moved forward, he kept close to the house-fronts 
 to avoid the sun that was everywhere stirring the win- 
 terbound town, like a suffusion of young blood in old 
 veins. He avoided the warmth because, in this instance, 
 warmth meant light; but as he walked he shivered
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 149 
 
 slightly from time to time with the haunting, permeat- 
 ing cold that of late had become his persistent shadow. 
 
 He was ill at ease as he hurried forward. With each 
 succeeding day of the old life the new annoyances, the 
 new obligations, became more hampering. Before his 
 compact with Loder, this old life had been a net about 
 his feet ; now the meshes seemed to have narrowed the 
 net itself to have spread until it smothered his whole 
 being. His own household, his own rooms even, offered 
 no sanctuary. The presence of another personality 
 tinged the atmosphere. It was preposterous, but it was 
 undeniable. The lay figure that he had set in his place 
 had proved to be flesh and blood, had usurped his life, 
 his position, his very personality, by sheer right of 
 strength. As he walked along Bond Street in the first 
 sunshine of the year, jostled by the well-dressed crowd, 
 he felt a pariah. 
 
 He revolted at the new order of things, but the revolt 
 was a silent one. The iron of expediency had entered 
 into his soul; he dared not jeopardize Loder's position 
 because he dared not dispense with Loder. The door 
 that guarded his vice drew him more resistlessly with 
 every indulgence; and Loder's was the voice that called 
 the " Open Sesame ! " 
 
 He walked on aimlessly. He had been but five days 
 at home, and already the quiet, grass-grown court of 
 Clifford's Inn, the bare staircase, the comfortless privacy 
 of Loder's rooms seemed a haven of refuge. The 
 speed with which this hunger had returned frightened 
 him. And now, as he moved onward, the irrepressible 
 consciousness of it came back, causing him inconse- 
 quently to hasten his steps. 
 
 He walked forward rapidly and without encountering 
 a check. Then suddenly the spell was broken. From 
 the slowly-moving, brilliantly-dressed throng of people 
 some one called him by name, and turning, he saw Lil- 
 lian Astrupp. 
 
 She was stepping from the door of a jeweler's ; and as 
 he turned she paused, holding out her hand. 
 
 " The very person I would have wished to see ! " she
 
 150 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 exclaimed. " Where have you been hiding yourself these 
 hundred years? I've heard of nobody but you, since 
 you've turned politician and ceased to be a mere Mem- 
 ber of Parliament ! " She laughed softly. The laugh 
 suited the light spring air, as she herself suited the pleas- 
 ant, superficial scene. 
 
 He took her hand and held it, while his eyes traveled 
 from her delicate face to her pale cloth gown, from her 
 soft furs to the bunch of roses fastened in her muff. 
 The sight of her was a curious relief. Her cool slim 
 ringers were so casual, yet so clinging in their pressure, 
 her voice and her presence were so redolent of easy, arti- 
 ficial things. 
 
 " How well you look ! " he said involuntarily. 
 
 Again she laughed. " That's my prerogative ! But I 
 was serious in being glad to see you. Sarcastic people 
 are always so intuitive. I'm looking for some one with 
 intuition." 
 
 Chilcote glanced up. " Extravagant again ? " he said 
 drily. 
 
 She smiled sweetly. " Jack ! " she murmured with 
 slow reproach. 
 
 He laughed. " I understand. You've changed your 
 Minister of Finance. I'm wanted in some other direc- 
 tion." 
 
 She evaded his insinuation with ready ease. 
 
 " You are always wanted," she said softly. 
 
 The words seemed to rouse him again to the shadowy 
 self-distrust that her presence had lifted. 
 
 " It's it's delightful to meet you like this," he be- 
 gan, " and I wish the meeting wasn't momentary. But 
 I'm I'm rather pressed for time. You must let me 
 come round one afternoon or evening, when you're 
 alone." He fumbled for a moment with the collar of 
 his coat, and glanced furtively upwards towards Ox- 
 ford Street. 
 
 But again Lillian smiled this time to herself. If 
 she understood anything on earth, it was Chilcote and 
 his moods. 
 
 " If one may be careless of anything, Jack," she said
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 151 
 
 lightly, " surely it's of time. I can imagine being 
 pressed for anything else in the world. If it's an ap- 
 pointment you're worrying about, a motor goes ever so 
 much faster than a cab." She looked at him tentatively 
 her head slightly on one side, her muff raised till the 
 roses and the soft fur touched her cheek. 
 
 She looked very charming and very persuasive as he 
 glanced back at her. Again she seemed to suggest a res- 
 pite something graceful and subtle in a world of op- 
 pressive obligations. His eyes strayed from her figure 
 to the smart open motor drawn up beside the curb. 
 
 She saw the glance. " Ever so much quicker," she 
 insinuated. And smiling again, she stepped forward 
 from the door of the shop. After a second's indecision, 
 Chilcote followed her. 
 
 The waiting motor-car had three seats, one in front 
 for the chauffeur, two vis-d-vis, at the back, offering 
 pleasant possibilities of a tete-a-tete. 
 
 " The Park and drive slowly ! " Lillian ordered as 
 she stepped into the car, motioning Chilcote to the seat 
 opposite her own. 
 
 They moved up Bond Street smoothly and rapidly. 
 Lillian was absorbed in the passing traffic until the 
 Marble Arch was reached ; then, as they glided through 
 the big gates, she looked across at her companion. He 
 had turned up the collar of his coat, though the wind 
 was scarcely perceptible, and had buried himself in it to 
 the ears. 
 
 " It is extraordinary ! " she exclaimed suddenly, as 
 her eyes rested on his face. It was seldom that she felt 
 drawn to exclamation. She was usually too indolent 
 to show surprise. But now the feeling was called forth 
 before she was aware. 
 
 Chilcote looked up. "What's extraordinary?" he 
 said sensitively. 
 
 She leant forward for an instant and touched his 
 hand. 
 
 " Bear ! " she said teasingly. " Did I rub your fur 
 the wrong way?" Then, seeing his expression, she 
 altered her tone
 
 152 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " I'll explain. It was the same thing that struck me 
 the night of Blanche's party when you looked at me 
 over Leonard Kaine's head. You remember ? " She 
 looked away from him across the Park to where the 
 grass was already showing greener. 
 
 Chilcote felt ill at ease. Again he put his hand to his 
 coat-collar. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he said hastily, " yes." He wished now 
 that he had questioned Loder more closely on the pro- 
 ceedings of that party. It seemed to him, on looking 
 back, that Loder had mentioned nothing on the day of 
 their last exchange save the political complications that 
 absorbed his mind. 
 
 " I couldn't explain then," Lillian went on ; "I 
 couldn't explain before a crowd of people that it wasn't 
 your dark head showing over Leonard's red one that 
 surprised me, but the most wonderful, the most extraor- 
 dinary likeness " She paused. 
 
 The car was moving faster ; there was a delight in the 
 easy motion through the fresh early air. But Chilcote's 
 uneasiness had been aroused ; he no longer felt soothed. 
 
 " What likeness ? " he asked sharply. 
 
 She turned to him easily. " Oh, a likeness I have 
 noticed before," she said. " A likeness that always 
 seemed strange, but that suddenly became incredible at 
 Blanche's party." 
 
 He moved quickly. 
 
 " Likenesses are an illusion," he said, " a mere fiction 
 of the brain ! " His manner was short ; his annoyance 
 seemingly out of all proportion to its cause. Lillian 
 looked at him afresh in slightly interested surprise. 
 
 " Yet, not so very long ago, you yourself " she 
 began. 
 
 " Nonsense ! I've always denied likenesses. Such 
 things don't really exist. Likeness-seeing is purely an 
 individual matter a preconception." He spoke fast; 
 he was uneasy under the cool scrutiny of her green 
 eyes. Then, with a sharp attempt at self-control and re- 
 assurance, he altered his voice.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 153 
 
 " After all, we're being very stupid ! " he exclaimed. 
 " We're worrying over something that doesn't exist." 
 
 Lillian was still lazily interested. To her own belief, 
 she had seen Chilcote last on the night of her sister's 
 reception. Then, she had been too preoccupied to notice 
 either his manner or his health, though superficially it 
 had lingered in her mind that he had seemed unusually 
 reliant, unusually well on that night. A remembrance 
 of the impression came to her now as she studied his 
 face, upon which imperceptibly and yet relentlessly his 
 vice was setting its mark in a dull restlessness of eye, 
 an unhealthy sallowness of skin. 
 
 Some shred of her thought, some suggestion of the 
 comparison running through her mind, must have 
 shown in her face, for Chilcote altered his position with 
 a touch of uneasiness. He glanced away across the long 
 sweep of tan-covered drive stretching between the trees ; 
 then he glanced furtively back. 
 
 " By the way," he said quickly, " you wanted me for 
 something? " The memory of her earlier suggestion 
 came back as a sudden boon. 
 
 She lifted her muff again, and smelt her roses thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " Oh, it was nothing, really," she said. " You sarcas- 
 tic people give very shrewd suggestions sometimes, and 
 I've been rather wanting a suggestion on an an adven- 
 ture that I've had." She looked down at her flowers 
 with a charmingly attentive air. 
 
 But Chilcote's restlessness had increased. Looking 
 up, she suddenly caught his expression, and her own 
 face changed. 
 
 " Dear Jack ! " she said softly, " what a bore I am ! 
 Let's forget tedious things and enjoy ourselves." She 
 leant towards him caressingly, with an air of concern 
 and reproach. 
 
 It was not without effect. Her soothing voice, her 
 smile, her almost affectionate gesture, each carried 
 weight. With a swift return of assurance he responded 
 to her tone. 
 
 "Right!" he said. "Right! We will enjoy our-
 
 154 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 selves ! " He laughed quickly, and again with a con- 
 scious movement he lifted his hand to his muffler. 
 
 " And we'll postpone the advice ? " Lillian laughed 
 too. 
 
 " Yes. Right ! We'll postpone it." The words pleased 
 him and he caught at it. " We won't bother about it 
 now, but we won't shelve it altogether. We'll postpone 
 it." 
 
 " Exactly." She settled herself more comfortably. 
 " You'll dine with me one night and we can talk it out 
 then. I see so little of you nowadays," she added in a 
 lower voice. 
 
 " My dear girl, you're unfair ! " Chilcote's spirits had 
 risen ; he spoke rapidly, almost pleasantly. " It isn't I 
 who keep away it's the stupid affairs of the world that 
 keep me. I'd be with you every hour of the twelve if 
 I had my way." 
 
 She looked up at the tall bare trees. Her expression 
 was a delightful mixture of amusement, satisfaction, and 
 skepticism. 
 
 " Then you will dine ? " she said at last. 
 
 " Certainly." His reaction to high spirits still carried 
 him forward. 
 
 " How nice ! Shall we fix a day? " 
 
 " A day ? Yes. Yes, by all means, if you like." He 
 hesitated for an instant ; then again the impulse of the 
 previous moment dominated his other feeling. 
 
 "Yes," he said quickly. "Yes. After all, why 
 shouldn't we fix it now ? " With a sudden inclination 
 towards amiability he opened his overcoat, thrust his 
 hand into an inner pocket and drew out his engagement- 
 book the same long narrow book fitted with two pencils 
 that Loder had scanned so interestedly on his first morn- 
 ing at Grosvenor Square. He opened it, turning the 
 pages rapidly. 
 
 "What day shall it be? Thursday's full and Fri- 
 day and Saturday. What a bore ! " He still talked 
 fast. 
 
 Lillian leant across. " What a sweet book ! " she said.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 155 
 
 " But why the blue crosses ? " She touched one of the 
 pages with her gloved finger. 
 
 Chilcote jerked the book quickly, then laughed with a 
 touch of embarrassment. 
 
 " Oh, the crosses ? Merely to remind me that certain 
 appointments must be kept. You know my beastly mem- 
 ory ! But what about the day ? Shall we fix it ? " His 
 voice was in control, but mentally her trivial question 
 had disturbed and jarred him. 
 
 " Which shall we say ? Monday in next week ? " 
 
 She glanced up with a faint exclamation of disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " How horribly far away ! " she said with engaging 
 petulance; and leaning forward afresh, she* drew the 
 book from his hand. 
 
 " What about to-morrow ? " she turned back a page. 
 " Why not to-morrow ? I knew I saw a blank space." 
 
 " To-morrow ! Oh, I I " he stopped. 
 
 " Jack ! " Her voice dropped. It was true that she 
 desired Chilcote's opinion on her adventure for Chil- 
 cote's opinion on men and manners had a certain bitter 
 shrewdness but the exercise of her own power added a 
 point to the desire. If the matter had ended with the 
 gain or loss of a tete-a-tete with him, it is probable that, 
 whatever its interest, she would not have pressed it; 
 but the underlying motive was the stronger. Chilcote 
 had been a satellite for years, and it was disagreeable 
 that any satellite should drop away into space. 
 
 " Jack ! " she said again in a lower and still more ef- 
 fective tone; then, lifting her muff, she buried her face 
 in her flowers. " I suppose I shall have to dine and go 
 to a music-hall with Leonard or stay at home by my- 
 self," she murmured, looking out across the trees. 
 
 Again Chilcote glanced over the long tan-strewn 
 drive. They had made the full circuit of the Park. 
 
 "It's tiresome being by oneself," she murmured 
 again. 
 
 For a while he was irresponsive, but slowly his eyes 
 returned to her face. He watched her for a second, then
 
 156 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 leaning quickly towards her, he took his book and 
 scribbled something in the vacant space. 
 
 She watched him interestedly, her face lighting up. 
 
 " Dear Jack ! " she said. " How very sweet of you ! " 
 Then, as he held the book towards her, her expression 
 fell. 
 
 " Dine 33 Cadogan Gardens, 8 o'c. Talk with L.," she 
 read. " Why, you've forgotten the essential thing ! " 
 
 He looked up. " The essential thing? " 
 
 She smiled. " The blue cross," she said. " Isn't it 
 worth even a little one ? " 
 
 The tone was very winning and soft. Chilcote yielded. 
 
 " You have the blue pencil," he said in sudden re- 
 sponse to her mood. 
 
 She glanced up in quiet pleasure at her success, and, 
 with a charming affectation of seriousness, marked the 
 engagement with a big cross. At the same moment the 
 car slackened speed and stopped, as the chauffeur waited 
 for further orders. 
 
 Lillian shut the engagement-book and handed it back. 
 
 " Where can I drop you ? " she asked. " At your 
 club?" 
 
 The question recalled him to a sense of present things. 
 He thrust the book into his pocket and glanced about 
 him. 
 
 They had paused by Hyde Park Corner. The crowd 
 of horses and carriages had thinned as the hour of lunch 
 drew near, and the wide roadway of the Park had an 
 air of added space. The suggested loneliness affected 
 him. The tall trees, still bereft of leaves, and the colos- 
 sal gateway incomprehensibly stirred the sense of men- 
 tal panic that sometimes seized him in face of vastness 
 either of place or architecture. In one moment Lillian 
 the appointment he had just made and the manner of 
 its making all left his mind. The world was filled with 
 his own personality, his own immediate inclinations. 
 
 " Don't bother about me ! " he said quickly. " I can 
 get out here. You've been very good. It's been a de- 
 lightful morning." With a hurried pressure of her 
 fingers he rose and stepped from the car.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 157 
 
 Reaching the ground, he paused for a moment and 
 raised his hat; then, without a second glance, he turned 
 and walked rapidly away. 
 
 Lillian sat watching him meditatively. She saw him 
 pass through the gateway ; saw him hail a hansom ; then 
 she remembered the waiting chauffeur. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 On the same day that Chilcote had parted with Lillian 
 but at three o'clock in the afternoon Loder, dressed 
 in Chilcote's clothes and with Chilcote's heavy overcoat 
 slung over his arm, walked from Fleet Street to Gros- 
 venor Square. He walked steadily, neither slowly nor 
 yet fast. The elation of his last journey over the same 
 ground was tempered by feelings he could not satis- 
 factorily bracket even to himself. There was less of 
 vehement elation and more of matured determination 
 in his gait and bearing than there had been on that night, 
 though the incidents of which they were the outcome 
 were curiously complex. 
 
 On reaching Chilcote's house he passed upstairs, but, 
 still following the routine of his previous return, he 
 did not halt at Chilcote's door, but moved onward to- 
 wards Eve's sitting-room and there paused. 
 
 In that pause his numberless irregular thoughts fused 
 into one. He had the same undefined sense of standing 
 upon sacred ground that had touched him on the pre- 
 vious occasion ; but the outcome of the sensation was 
 different. This time, he raised his hand almost imme- 
 diately and tapped on the door. 
 
 He waited, but no voice responded to his knock. 
 With a sense of disappointment he knocked again ; then, 
 pressing his determination further, he turned the handle 
 and entered the room. 
 
 No private room is without interest whether trivial 
 or the reverse. In a room, perhaps more even than in 
 speech, in look or in work does the impress of the indi-
 
 158 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 vidual make itself felt. There, on the wax of outer 
 things, the inner self imprints its seal enforces its fleet- 
 ing claim to separate individuality. This thought, with 
 its arresting interest, made him walk slowly, almost se- 
 riously, half-way across the floor, and then pause to 
 study his surroundings. 
 
 The room was of medium size not too large for com- 
 fort and not too small for ample space. At a first glance 
 it struck him as singularly unlike any anticipation of a 
 woman's sanctum. The walls, panelled in dark wood; 
 the richly bound books; the beautifully designed bronze 
 ornaments; even the flowers, deep crimson and violet 
 blue in tone, had an air of sombre harmony that was 
 scarcely feminine. With a strangely pleasant impres- 
 sion he realized this, and following his habitual impulse, 
 he moved slowly forward towards the fireplace and 
 there paused, his elbow resting on the mantelpiece. 
 
 He had scarcely settled comfortably into his position 
 scarcely entered on his second and more comprehen- 
 sive study of the place than the arrangement of his 
 mind was altered by the turning of the handle and the 
 rapid opening of the door. 
 
 The new-comer was Eve herself. She was dressed in 
 outdoor clothes, and walked into the room quickly ; then, 
 as Loder had done, she too paused. 
 
 Her movement, so natural and spontaneous, had a pe- 
 culiar attraction : as she glanced up at him, her face 
 alight with inquiry, she seemed extraordinarily much 
 the owner and designer of her surroundings. She was 
 framed by them as naturally and effectively as her eyes 
 were framed by their black lashes. For one moment he 
 forgot that his presence demanded explanation ; the next, 
 she had made explanation needless. She had been look- 
 ing at him intently ; now she came forward slowly. 
 
 " John ? " she said, half in appeal, half in question. 
 
 He took a step towards her. " Look at me ! " he said 
 quietly and involuntarily. In trie sharp desire to estab- 
 lish himself in her regard, he forgot that her eyes had 
 never left his face. 
 
 But the incongruity of the words did not strike her.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 159 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed, " I I believe I knew, directly 
 I saw you here." The quick ring of life vibrating in 
 her tone surprised him. But he had other emotions 
 more urgent than surprise. 
 
 In the five days of banishment just lived through, the 
 need for a readjustment of his position with regard to 
 her had come to him forcibly. The memory of the night 
 when weakness and he had been at perilously close quar- 
 ters had returned to him persistently and uncomfortably, 
 spoiling the remembrance of his triumph. It had been 
 well enough to smother the thought of that night in days 
 of work. But had ignoring it blotted out the weakness ? 
 Had it not rather thrown it into bolder relief? A man, 
 strong in his own strength, does not turn his back upon 
 temptation he faces and quells it. In the solitary days 
 at Clifford's Inn; in the solitary nights, often spent in 
 pacing the city streets, this had been the conviction that 
 had recurred again and again this the problem to which, 
 after much consideration, he had found a solution, satis- 
 factory at least to himself. When next Chilcote called 
 him, he would make a new departure, he had decided. 
 He would no longer avoid Eve ; he would successfully 
 prove to himself that one interest and one alone filled 
 his mind the pursuance of Chilcote's political career. 
 So does man satisfactorily convince himself against him- 
 self. 
 
 " Well," he said slowly, " has it been very hard to 
 have faith these last five days ? " It was not precisely 
 the tone he had meant to adopt ; but one must begin. 
 
 Eve turned at his words. Her eyes were brimming 
 with life, her cheeks were touched to a deep soft color 
 by the keenness of the spring air. 
 
 " No," she answered, with a shy responsive touch of 
 confidence that was new. " I seemed to keep on be- 
 lieving. You know converts make the best devotees." 
 She laughed with slight embarrassment and glanced up 
 at him. Something in the blue of her eyes reminded 
 him unexpectedly of April skies full of youth and 
 promise.
 
 160 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 He moved abruptly, and crossed the room towards the 
 window. 
 
 " Eve," he said, without looking round, " I want your 
 help." 
 
 He heard the faint rustling of her dress, as once more 
 she turned towards him, and he knew that he had struck 
 the right chord. All true women respond to an appeal 
 for aid as steel answers to the magnet. He could feel 
 her expectancy in the silence. 
 
 " You know we all know that the present moment 
 is very vital : that it's impossible to deny the crisis in 
 the air " He still looked out of the window. " No- 
 body feels it more than I do nobody is more exorbi- 
 tantly keen to have a part, when the real fight comes " 
 He stopped, then turned slowly, and their eyes met. 
 
 " If a man is to succeed in such a desire," he went on 
 deliberately, " he must exclude all others he must have 
 one purpose, one interest, one thought. He must for- 
 get " 
 
 "That he has a wife," Eve finished gently. "I 
 think I understand." 
 
 There was no annoyance in her face or voice, no sug- 
 gestion of selfishness or of hurt vanity. She had read 
 his meaning with disconcerting clearness and responded 
 with disconcerting generosity. A sudden and very hu- 
 man dissatisfaction with his readjustment scheme fell 
 upon Loder. Opposition is the whip to action; a too 
 ready acquiescence the slackened rein. 
 
 " Did I say that ? " he asked quickly. The tone was 
 almost Chilcote's. 
 
 She glanced up at him ; then a sudden incomprehensi- 
 ble smile lighted up her face. 
 
 " You didn't say, but you thought," she answered 
 gravely. " Thoughts are the same as words to a wom- 
 an. That's why we are so unreasonable." Again she 
 smiled. Some idea, baffling and incomprehensible to 
 Loder, was stirring in her mind. 
 
 Conscious of the impression, he moved still nearer. 
 " You jump to conclusions," he said abruptly. " What I 
 meant to imply "
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 161 
 
 " Was precisely what I've understood." Again she 
 finished his sentence. Then she laughed softly. " How 
 very wise, but how very, very foolish men are! You 
 come to the conclusion that because a woman is is inter- 
 ested in you, she is going to hamper you in some direc- 
 tion, and after infinite pains you summon all your tact 
 and set about saving the situation." There was interest, 
 even a touch of amusement in her tone; her eyes were 
 still fixed steadily upon his. 
 
 " You think you are very diplomatic," she went on 
 quietly, " but in reality you are very transparent. The 
 woman reads the whole of your meaning in your very 
 first sentence if she hasn't known it before you began 
 to speak." 
 
 Again Loder made an interruption, but again she 
 checked him. 
 
 " No," she said, still smiling. " You should never at- 
 tempt such a task. Shall I tell you why ? " 
 
 He stood silent puzzled and interested. 
 
 " Because," she said quickly, " when a woman really 
 is interested, the man's career ranks infinitely higher 
 in her eyes than any personal desire for power." 
 
 For a moment their eyes met, then abruptly Loder 
 looked away. She had gauged his intentions incorrectly 
 yet with confusing insight. Again the suggestion of 
 an unusual personality below the serenity of her manner 
 recurred to his imagination. 
 
 With an impulse altogether foreign he lifted his head 
 and again met her glance. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " he said with simple, direct sincerity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 After his interview with Eve, Loder retired to the 
 study and spent the remaining hours of the day and the 
 whole span of the evening in work. At one o'clock 
 still feeling fresh in mind and body he dismissed Green- 
 ing and passed into Chilcote's bedroom. The interview
 
 162 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 with Eve, though widely different from the one he had 
 anticipated, had left him stimulated and alert. In the 
 hours that followed it there had been an added anxiety 
 to put his mind into harness, an added gratification in 
 finding it answer to the rein. 
 
 A pleasant sense of retrospection settled upon him as 
 he began slowly to undress, and a pleasant sense of inter- 
 est touched him as, crossing to the dressing-table, he 
 caught sight of Chilcote's engagement-book taken with 
 other things from the suit he had changed at dinner- 
 time, and carefully laid aside by Renwick. 
 
 He picked it up and methodically turned the pages. 
 It always held the suggestion of a lottery this dipping 
 into another man's engagements and drawing a prize 
 or a blank. It was a sensation that even custom had not. 
 dulled. 
 
 At first he turned the pages slowly, then by degrees 
 his fingers quickened. Beyond the fact that this present 
 evening was free, he knew nothing of his promised 
 movements. The abruptness of Chilcote's arrival at 
 Clifford's Inn in the afternoon had left no time for su- 
 perfluous questions. He skimmed the writing with a 
 touch of interested haste, then all at once he paused and 
 smiled. 
 
 " Big enough for a tombstone ! " he said below his 
 breath, as his eyes rested on a large blue cross. Then 
 he smiled again, and held the book to the light. 
 
 " Dine 33 Cadogan Gardens, 8 o'c. Talk with L.," he 
 read. 
 
 He stood for a moment pondering on the entry, then 
 once more his glance reverted to the cross. 
 
 " Evidently meant it to be seen ! But why the deuce 
 isn't he more explicit ! " Then suddenly a look of com- 
 prehension crossed his face, and the puzzled frown be- 
 tween his eyebrows cleared away. 
 
 With a feeling of satisfaction he remembered Lake- 
 ley's frequent and pressing suggestions that he should 
 dine with him at Cadogan Gardens and discuss the politi- 
 cal outlook. 
 
 Lakeley must have written during his absence, and
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 163 
 
 Chilcote having marked the engagement felt no fur- 
 ther responsibility! The invitation could scarcely have 
 been verbal, as Chilcote, he knew, had lain very low 
 in the five days of his return to home. So he argued, as 
 he stood with the book still open in his hands the blue 
 cross staring imperatively from the white paper. And 
 from the argument rose thoughts and suggestions that 
 seethed in his mind long after the lights had been 
 switched off; long after the fire had died down, and he 
 had been left wrapped in darkness in the great canopied 
 bed. 
 
 And so it came about that he took his second false 
 step. Once during the press of the next morning's 
 work, it crossed his mind to verify his convictions by a 
 glance at the directory. But for once the strong wish 
 that evolves a thought conquered his caution. His work 
 was absorbing; the need of verification seemed very 
 small. He let the suggestion pass. 
 
 At seven o'clock he dressed carefully. His mind was 
 full of Lakeley and of the possibilities the night might 
 hold. More than once before, the weight of the " St. 
 George's Gazette " with Lakeley at its back had turned 
 the political scales. To be marked by him as a coming 
 man was at any time a favorable portent; to be singled 
 out by him at the present juncture was momentous. A 
 thrill of expectancy, almost of excitement, passed 
 through Loder as he surveyed his appearance, prepara- 
 tory to leaving Chilcote's room. 
 
 Having descended the stairs, he moved straight to 
 the hall-door; but almost as his hand touched it, he 
 halted, attracted by a movement on the landing at the 
 head of the stairs. Glancing upward, he saw Eve. 
 
 She was standing quite still, looking down upon him 
 as she had looked once before. As their eyes met, she 
 changed her position hastily. 
 
 " You are going out ? " she asked. And it struck 
 Loder quickly that there was a suggestion, a shadow of 
 disappointment in the tone of her voice. Moved by the 
 impression, he responded with unusual promptness.
 
 1U4 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I'm dining out dining with Lake- 
 ley." 
 
 While he spoke, she watched him intently; then, as 
 the meaning of his words reached her, her whole face 
 brightened. 
 
 "With Mr. Lakeley?" she said. "Oh, I'm glad- 
 very glad. It is quite quite another step." She smiled 
 with a warm impulsive touch of sympathy. 
 
 Loder, still watching her attentively, felt his senses 
 stir. At sound of her words, his secret ambitions quick- 
 ened to stronger life. The man whose sole incentive 
 lies within may go forward coldly and successfully; but 
 the man who grasps a double inspiration who, even 
 unconsciously, is impelled by a force other than his own 
 has a stronger impetus for attack, a surer, more vital 
 hewing power. 
 
 " Yes," he said at last, slowly " Yes. A long step." 
 And with a smile of farewell he turned, opened the hall- 
 door, and passed into the road. 
 
 The thrill of that one moment was still warm within 
 him as fie reached Cadogan Gardens and mounted the 
 steps of the house he sought, so warm that involuntarily 
 he waited for an instant before pressing the electric bell. 
 Then, however, his anticipation dominated him.; he 
 turned and raised his hand. 
 
 The action was abrupt ; and it was only as his fingers 
 pressed the bell that a certain unexpectedness, a certain 
 want of suitability in the aspect of the house, struck 
 him. The door was white, the handle and knocker were 
 of massive silver. The first seemed a disappointing in- 
 dex of Lakeley's private taste, the second a ridiculous 
 temptation to needy humanity. He looked again at the 
 number of the house, but it stared back at him convinc- 
 ingly. Then the door opened. 
 
 So keen was his sense of unfitness that, still trying to 
 fuse his impression of Lakeley with the idea of silver 
 door-fittings, he stepped into the hall without the usual 
 preliminary question. Suddenly realizing the necessity, 
 he turned to the servant; but the man forestalled him
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 165 
 
 " Will you come into the white drawing-room, sir ? 
 And may I take your coat ? " 
 
 The smooth certainty of the man's manner surprised 
 him. It held another unreasonable savor of disappoint- 
 ment seeming as little in keeping with the keen busi- 
 nesslike Lakeley as did the house. Still struggling- with 
 his impression, he allowed himself to be relieved of his 
 hat and coat, and in silence followed the servant up the 
 shallow staircase. 
 
 As the last step was reached, it came to him again to 
 mention his host's name, but simultaneously with the 
 suggestion the man stepped forward with a quick, silent 
 movement and threw open a door. 
 
 " Mr. Chilcote ! " he announced, in a subdued discreet 
 voice. 
 
 Loders first impression was of a room that seemed 
 unusually luxurious, soft and shadowed. Then all im- 
 pression of outward things left him suddenly. 
 
 For the fraction of a second he stood in the doorway, 
 while the room seemed emptied of everything but a figure, 
 that rose slowly from a couch before the fire at sound of 
 Chilcote's name; then, with a calmness that to himself 
 seemed incredible, he moved forward into the room. 
 
 He might of course have beaten a retreat and obviated 
 many things. But life is full of might-have-beens, and 
 retreat never presents itself agreeably to a strong man. 
 His impulse was to face the difficulty, and he acted on 
 the impulse. 
 
 Lillian had risen slowly, and, as he neared her, she 
 held out her hand. 
 
 " Jack ! " she exclaimed softly. " How sweet of you 
 to remember ! " 
 
 The voice and words came to him with great distinct- 
 ness, and as they came one uncertainty passed forever 
 from his mind the question as to what relation she and 
 Chilcote held to each other. With the realization, came 
 the thought of Eve ; and in the midst of his own difficulty 
 his face hardened. 
 
 Lillian ignored the expression. Taking his hand, she 
 smiled very sweetly.
 
 166 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " You're very punctual," she said. " But your hands 
 are cold. Come closer to the fire." 
 
 Loder was not sensible that his hands were cold, but 
 he suffered himself to be drawn forward. 
 
 One end of the couch was in firelight, the other in 
 shadow. By a fortunate arrangement of chance, Lillian 
 selected the brighter end for herself and offered the other 
 to her guest. With a quick sense of respite, he accepted 
 it. Here at least he could sit secure from detection while 
 he temporized with Fate. 
 
 For a moment they sat silent, then she turned towards 
 him. 
 
 " Won't you smoke ? " she asked. 
 
 Everything in the room seemed soft and enervating 
 the subdued glow of the fire, the smell of roses, Lillian's 
 slow soothing voice. With a sense of oppression he 
 stiffened his shoulders and sat straighter in his place. 
 
 " No," he said, " I don't think I shall smoke." 
 
 She moved nearer to him. 
 
 " Dear Jack ! " she said softly, " don't say you're in a 
 bad mood. Don't say you want to postpone again." She 
 looked up at him and laughed a little. 
 
 Loder was at a loss. 
 
 Another silence followed, while Lillian waited; then 
 she frowned suddenly and rose from the couch. Like 
 many indolent people, she possessed a touch of obstinacy ; 
 and now that her triumph over Chilcote was obtained 
 now that she had vindicated her right to command him 
 her original purpose came uppermost again. Cold or 
 interested, indifferent or attentive, she intended to make 
 use of him. 
 
 She moved to the fire and stood looking down into it; 
 then slowly but decisively she turned back to the couch 
 and took up her former place. 
 
 " Jack ! " she began gently, " a really amazing thing 
 has happened to me. I do so want you to throw some 
 light." 
 
 There was a fresh pause while she softly smoothed 
 the silk embroidery that edged her gown. Then once 
 more she looked up at him.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 167 
 
 " Did I ever tell you," she began incontinently, " that 
 I was once in a railway accident on a funny little Italian 
 railway, centuries before I met you ? " 
 
 Loder said nothing, but she ignored his silence. 
 
 " Astrupp had caught a fever in Florence," she went 
 on, " and I was rushing away for fear of the infection, 
 when our stupid little train ran off the rails near Pistoria 
 and smashed itself up. Fortunately we were within half 
 a mile of a village, so we weren't quite bereft. The vil- 
 lage was impossibly like a toy village, and the accommo- 
 dation what one would expect in a Noah's Ark. But it 
 was all absolutely picturesque. I put up at the little inn 
 with my maid and Ko Ko Ko Ko was such a sweet dog, 
 a white poodle. I was tremendously keen on poodles 
 that year." She stopped and looked thoughtfully to- 
 wards the fire, then slowly back at Loder. 
 
 " But to come to the point of the story, Jack ; the toy 
 village had a boy doll ! " she laughed very softly. " He 
 was an Englishman, and the first person to come to my 
 rescue after the upset. He was staying at the Noah's 
 
 Ark inn, and after that first night I he we " She 
 
 hesitated. " Oh, Jack, haven't you anything in the world 
 to say ? " Her voice dropped disappointedly. The man 
 who is indifferent to the recital of an old love-affair im- 
 plies the worst kind of listener. 
 
 " I believe you aren't interested," she said in a re- 
 proachful tone. 
 
 For the first time Loder altered his position; with a 
 sudden movement he sat forward in his chair. " You're 
 wrong there," he said slowly. " I'm deeply interested." 
 
 She glanced at him again. His tone reassured her, 
 but his words left her uncertain. Chilcote was rarely 
 emphatic. With a touch of hesitation she went on with 
 her tale. 
 
 " As I told you, he was the first to find us to find me, 
 I should say for my maid was having hysterics farther 
 up the line and Ko Ko was lost. I remember the first 
 thing I did was to send him in search of the dog." 
 
 Notwithstanding his position, Loder found occasion to 
 smile.
 
 168 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Did he succeed?" he asked drily. 
 
 " Succeed ? Oh yes, he succeeded," she also smiled 
 involuntarily. " Poor Ko Ko was stowed away under 
 the luggage-van, and after quite a lot of trouble he 
 pulled him out. When it was all done Ko Ko was quite 
 unhurt and livelier than ever, but the Englishman had 
 his finger almost bitten through. Ko Ko was a dear; 
 but his teeth and his temper were both very sharp ! " 
 She laughed once more in soft amusement. 
 
 Loder was silent for a second, then he too laughed 
 Chilcote's short sarcastic laugh. 
 
 "And you tied up the wound, I suppose ? " 
 
 She glanced up, half displeased. " We were both stay- 
 ing at the little inn," she said, as though no further ex- 
 planation could be needed. Then again her manner 
 changed. She moved imperceptibly nearer and touched 
 his right hand. His left, which was further away from 
 her, was well in the shadow of the cushions. 
 
 " Jack," she said caressingly, " it isn't to tell you this 
 stupid old story that I've brought you here ; it's really 
 to tell you a sort of sequel." She stroked his hand gently 
 once or twice. " As I say, I met this man, and we we 
 had an affair. You understand? Then we quarreled 
 quarreled quite badly and I came away. I've remem- 
 bered him rather longer than I remember most people 
 he was one of those dogged individuals who stick in one's 
 mind ; and he has stayed in mine for a double reason." 
 
 Again she looked up. " He has stayed because you 
 helped to keep him there. You know how I have some- 
 times put my hands over your mouth, and told you that 
 your eyes reminded me of some one else's? Well, that 
 some one was my Englishman. But you mustn't be jeal- 
 ous; he was a horrid, obstinate person, and you well, 
 
 you know what I think of you " She pressed his 
 
 hand. "But to come to the end of the story, I never 
 saw this man since that long ago time until until the 
 night of Blanche's party ! " She spoke slowly, to give 
 full effect to her words ; then she waited for his surprise. 
 
 The result was not quite what she expected. Loder
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 169 
 
 said nothing, but with an abrupt movement he drew his 
 hand from between hers. 
 
 " Aren't you surprised ? " she asked, with a delicate 
 note of reproof. 
 
 He started slightly, as if recalled to the necessity of 
 the moment. 
 
 " Surprised ? " he said. " Why should I be surprised ? 
 One person more or less at a big party isn't astonishing. 
 Beside, you expect a man to turn up sooner or later in 
 his own country. Why should I be surprised ? " 
 
 She lay back luxuriously. " Because, my dear boy," 
 she said softly, " it's more than a surprise it's a mys- 
 tery ! It's one of those fascinating mysteries that come 
 once in a lifetime." 
 
 Loder made no movement. " You must explain," he 
 said very quietly. 
 
 Lillian smiled. " That's just what I want to do. When 
 I was in my tent on the night of Blanche's party, a man 
 came to be gazed for. He came just like anybody else 
 and laid his hands upon the table. He had strong thin 
 hands, like well, rather like yours, and he wore two 
 rings on the third ringer of his left hand a heavy signet 
 ring and a plain gold one." 
 
 Loder moved his hand imperceptibly till the cushion 
 completely covered it. Lillian's words caused him no 
 surprise, scarcely even any trepidation. He felt now 
 that he had expected them, had unconsciously waited for 
 them all along. 
 
 " I asked him to take off his rings," she went on, 
 " and just for a second he hesitated I could feel him 
 hesitate then he seemed to make up his mind, and drew 
 them off. He drew them off, Jack, and guess what I 
 saw ! Do guess ! " 
 
 For the first time Loder involuntarily drew back into 
 his corner of the couch. " I never guess," he said 
 brusquely. 
 
 " Then I'll tell you. His hands were the hands of my 
 Englishman ! The rings covered the scar made by Ko 
 Ko's teeth. I knew it instantly the second my eyes 
 rested on it. It was the same scar that I had bound up
 
 170 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 dozens of times, that I had seen healed before I left 
 Santasalare." 
 
 " And you? What did you do? " Loder felt it singu- 
 larly difficult and unpleasant to speak. 
 
 " Ah, that's the point. That's where I was stupid and 
 made my mistake. I should have spoken to him on the 
 moment, but I didn't. You know how one sometimes 
 hesitates. Afterwards, it was too late." 
 
 " Why ? Wasn't he visible later ? " Loder spoke un- 
 willingly. 
 
 " No. No ; that's the other point. I didn't see him in 
 the rooms, and I haven't seen him since. Directly he 
 was gone, I left the tent; I pretended to be hungry and 
 bored; but though I went through every room he was 
 nowhere to be found. Once " she hesitated and laughed 
 again " once I thought I had found him, but it was 
 only you you, as you stood in that doorway with your 
 mouth and chin hidden by Leonard Kaine's head. Wasn't 
 it a quaint mistake? " 
 
 There was an uncertain pause. Then Loder, feeling 
 the need of speech, broke the silence suddenly. 
 
 " Where do I come in ? " he asked abruptly. " What 
 am I wanted for ? " 
 
 " To help to throw light on the mystery ! I've seen 
 Blanche's list of people, and there wasn't a man I couldn't 
 place no outsider ever squeezes through Blanche's door. 
 I have questioned Bobby Blessington, but he can't re- 
 member who came to the tent last. And Bobby was 
 supposed to have kept count ! " She spoke in deep scorn ; 
 then the scorn faded and she smiled again. 
 
 " Well, now that I've explained, Jack, what do you 
 suggest ? " 
 
 Then for the first time Loder realized what his pres- 
 ence in the room really meant; and at best, the knowl- 
 edge was disconcerting. It is not every day that a man 
 is called upon to unearth himself. 
 
 " Suggest ? " he repeated blankly. 
 
 "Yes. I'd rather have your idea of the affair than 
 anybody else's. You are so dear and sarcastic and keen
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 171 
 
 that you can't help getting straight at the middle of a 
 fact." 
 
 When Lillian wanted anything she could be very sweet. 
 She suddenly dropped her half-petulant tone, she sud- 
 denly ceased to be a spoilt child. With a perfectly 
 graceful movement she drew quite close to Loder, and 
 slid gently to her knees. 
 
 This is an attitude that few women can safely assume ; 
 it requires all the attributes of youth, suppleness and a 
 certain buoyant ease. But Lillian never acted without 
 justification; and as she leant towards Loder, her face 
 lifted, her slight figure and pale hair softened by the 
 firelight, she made a picture that it would have been 
 difficult to criticise. 
 
 But the person who should have appreciated it stared 
 steadily beyond it to the fire. His mind was absorbed by 
 one question the question of how he might reasonably 
 leave the house before discovery became assured. 
 
 Lillian, attentively watchful of him, saw the uneasy 
 look, and her own face fell. Then an inspiration came to 
 her a remembrance of many interviews with Chilcote 
 smoothed and facilitated by the timely use of tobacco. 
 
 " Jack," she said softly, " before you say another word, 
 I insist on your lighting a cigarette." She leant for- 
 ward, resting against his knee. 
 
 At her words, Loder's eyes left the fire. His attention 
 was suddenly needed for a new and more imminent dif- 
 ficulty. 
 
 " Thanks ! " he said quickly. " But I I have no wish 
 to smoke." 
 
 "It isn't a matter of what you wish, but of what I 
 say." She smiled. She knew that Chilcote with a cigar- 
 ette between his lips was infinitely more tractable than 
 Chilcote sitting idle, anl she had no intention of ignoring 
 the knowledge. 
 
 But Loder caught at her words. " Before you ordered 
 me to smoke," he said, " you told me to give you some 
 advice. Your first command must have prior claim." 
 He grasped unhesitatingly at the less risky theme. 
 
 She looked up at him. " You're always nicer when
 
 172 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 you smoke/' she persisted caressingly. " Light a cigar- 
 ette and give me one." 
 
 Loder's mouth hardened. " No," he said, " we'll stick 
 to this advice business. It interests me." 
 
 " Yes afterwards." 
 
 " No, now. You want to find out why this English- 
 man from Italy was at your sister's party, and why he 
 disappeared ? " 
 
 There are times when a malignant obstinacy seems to 
 affect certain people. The only answer Lillian made was 
 to pass her hand over Loder's waistcoat and, feeling his 
 cigarette-case, to draw it from the pocket. 
 
 He affected not to see it. " Do you think he recog- 
 nized you in that tent ? " he insisted desperately. 
 
 Lillian held out the case. " Here are your cigarettes. 
 You know we're always more social when we smoke." 
 
 In the short interval while she looked up into his face, 
 several ideas passed through Loder's mind. He thought 
 of standing up suddenly and so regaining his advantage ; 
 he wondered quickly whether one hand could possibly 
 suffice for the taking out and lighting of two cigarettes. 
 Then all need for speculation was pushed suddenly aside. 
 
 Lillian, studying his face, saw his fresh look of dis- 
 turbance, and from long experience again changed her 
 tactics. Laying the cigarette-case on the conch, she put 
 one hand on his shoulder, the other on his left arm. 
 Hundreds of times this caressing touch had quieted Chil- 
 cote. 
 
 " Dear old Jack ! " she said soothingly, her hand mov- 
 ing slowly down his arm. 
 
 In a flash of understanding, the consequences of this 
 position came to Loder. Action was imperative, at what- 
 ever risk. With an abrupt gesture he rose. 
 
 The movement was awkward. He got to his feet pre- 
 cipitately; Lillian drew back, surprised and startled, 
 catching involuntarily at his left hand to steady her po- 
 sition. 
 
 Her fingers grasped at, then held his. He made no 
 effort to release them. With a dogged acknowledgment, 
 he admitted himself worsted by Fate.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 1?3 
 
 How long she stayed immovable, holding his hand, 
 neither of them knew. The action of a woman's instinct 
 is so subtle, so obscure that it is futile to apply to it 
 the commonplace test of time. She kept her hold tena- 
 ciously, as though his ringers possessed some peculiar 
 virtue ; then at last she spoke. 
 
 " Rings, Jack ? " she said slowly. And under the two 
 short words a whole world of incredulity and surmise 
 made itself felt. 
 
 Loder laughed. 
 
 At the sound she dropped his hand and rose from her 
 knees. What her suspicions what her instincts were 
 she could not have clearly defined, but her action was 
 unhesitating. Without a moment's uncertainty she turned 
 to the fireplace, pressed the electric switch, and flooded 
 the room with light. 
 
 There is no force so demoralizing as unexpected light. 
 Loder took a step backward, his hand hanging unguarded 
 by his side ; and Lillian, stepping forward, caught it 
 again before he could protest. Lifting it quickly, she 
 looked scrutinizingly at his two rings. 
 
 All women jump to conclusions, and it is extraordi- 
 nary how seldom they jump short. Seeing only what 
 Lillian saw, knowing only what she knew, no man would 
 have staked a definite opinion; but the other sex takes 
 a different view. As she stood gazing at the rings, her 
 thoughts and her conclusions sped through her mind like 
 arrows all aimed and all tending towards one point. 
 She remembered the day when she and Chilcote had 
 talked of doubles, her skepticism and his vehement de- 
 fense of the idea ; his sudden interest in the book " Other 
 Men's Shoes," and his anathema against life and its irk- 
 some round of duties. She remembered her own first 
 convinced recognition of the eyes that had looked at her 
 in the doorway of her sister's house; and, last of all, 
 she remembered Chilcote's unaccountable avoidance of 
 the same subject of likenesses when she had mentioned 
 it yesterday driving through the park ; and with it, his 
 unnecessary curt repudiation of his former opinions.
 
 174 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 She reviewed each item ; then she raised her head slowly 
 and looked at Loder. 
 
 He was prepared for the glance, and met it steadily. 
 In the long moment that her eyes searched his face it 
 was she and not he who changed color. Nevertheless 
 she was the first to speak. 
 
 " You were the man whose hands I saw in the tent," 
 she said. She made the statement in her usual soft tones, 
 but a slight tremor of excitement underran her voice. 
 Poodles Persian kittens even crystal gazing-balls 
 seemed very far away in face of this tangible, fabulous, 
 present interest. 
 
 " You are not Jack Chilcote," she said very slowly. 
 " You are wearing his clothes, and speaking in his voice, 
 but you are not Jack Chilcote." Then her tone quick- 
 ened with a touch of excitement 
 
 " You needn't keep silent and look at me. I know 
 quite well what I am saying though I don't understand 
 it though I have no real proof " She paused, mo- 
 mentarily disconcerted by her companion's steady gaze, 
 and in the pause a curious and unexpected thing oc- 
 curred. 
 
 Loder laughed suddenly a full, confident, reassured 
 laugh. All the web that the past half-hour had spun 
 about him, all the intolerable sense of an impending 
 crash, lifted suddenly. He saw his way clearly, and it 
 was Lillian who had opened his eyes. 
 
 Still looking at her, he smiled a smile of reliant de- 
 termination, such as Chilcote had never worn in his life. 
 And quite calmly he released his hand. 
 
 " The greatest charm of woman is her imagination," 
 he said quietly. " Without it, there would be no color 
 in life ; we would come into it and drop out of it with 
 the same uninteresting tone of drab reality." He paused 
 and smiled again. 
 
 At his smile Lillian involuntarily drew back, the color 
 deepening in her cheeks. 
 
 " Why do you say that ? " she asked. 
 
 He lifted his head. With each moment he felt more 
 certain of himself.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 175 
 
 " Because that is my attitude," he said. " As a man, I 
 admire your imagination; but, as a man, I fail to follow 
 your reasoning." 
 
 The words and the tone both stung her. " Do you un- 
 derstand the position ? " she asked sharply. " Do you 
 realize that whatever your plans are I can upset them ? " 
 
 Loder still met her eyes. " I realize nothing of the 
 sort," he said. 
 
 " Then you admit that you are not Jack Chilcote? " 
 
 " I neither deny nor admit. My identity is obvious. 
 I can get twenty men to swear to it at any moment that 
 you like. The fact that I haven't worn rings till now 
 will scarcely interest them." 
 
 " But you admit to me that you are not Jack ? " 
 
 " I deny nothing and admit nothing. But I still offer 
 my congratulations." 
 
 "Upon what?" 
 
 " The same possession your imagination." 
 
 Lillian stamped her foot. Then, by a quick effort, she 
 conquered her temper. 
 
 " Prove me to be wrong ! " she said, with a fresh touch 
 of excitement. " Take off your rings and let me see 
 your hand." 
 
 With a deliberate gesture Loder put his hand behind 
 his back. 
 
 " I never gratify childish curiosity," he said, with an- 
 other smile. 
 
 Again a flash of temper crossed her eyes. 
 
 " Are you sure," she said, " that it's quite wise to talk 
 like that?" 
 
 He laughed again. " Is that a threat ? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Then it's an empty one." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Before replying, he waited a moment, looking down at 
 her. 
 
 " I conclude," he said at last quietly, " that your idea 
 is to spread this wild improbable story to ask people 
 to believe that John Chilcote, whom they see before them, 
 is not John Chilcote but somebody else. Now, you'll
 
 176 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 find that a harder task than you imagine. This is a skep- 
 tical world, and people are absurdly fond of their own 
 eyesight. We are all journalists nowadays we all want 
 facts. The first thing you will be asked for is your 
 proof. And what does your proof consist of? The cir- 
 cumstance that John Chilcote, who has always despised 
 jewelry, has lately taken to wearing rings! Your own 
 statement, unattested by any witnesses, that with those 
 rings off, his finger bears a scar belonging to another 
 man ! No ; on closer examination, I scarcely think your 
 case would hold I scarcely imagine that your case would 
 hold." He stopped, fired by his own logic. The future 
 might be Chilcote's, but the present was his. And this 
 present, with its immeasurable possibilities, had been 
 rescued from catastrophe. 
 
 " No," he said again. " When you get your proof, 
 perhaps we'll have another talk ; but till then " 
 
 " Till then ? " She looked up quickly ; then she 
 stopped. 
 
 The door opened, and the servant who had admitted 
 Loder stepped deferentially into the room. 
 
 " Dinner is served," he announced, in his discreet and 
 well-trained voice. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 And Loder dined with Lillian Astrupp. We live in an 
 age when society expects even exacts much. He dined, 
 not through bravado and not through cowardice, but 
 because it seemed the obvious the only thing to do. 
 To him, a scene of any description was distasteful ; to 
 Lillian, it was unknown. In her world, people loved or 
 hated, were spiteful or foolish, were even quixotic or dis- 
 honorable, but they seldom made scenes. Loder tacitly 
 saw and tacitly accepted this. 
 
 Possibly they ate extremely little during the course of 
 the dinner, and talked extraordinarily much on subjects 
 that interested neither; but the main point at least was 
 gained. They dined. The conventionalities were ap-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 177 
 
 peased the silent, watchful servants who waited on them 
 were given no food for comment. The fact that Loder 
 left immediately after dinner; the fact that he paused 
 on the doorstep after the hall-door had closed behind him, 
 and drew a long, deep breath of relief, held only an in- 
 dividual significance, and therefore did not count. 
 
 On reaching Chilcote's house, he passed at once to 
 the study and dismissed Greening for the night. But 
 scarcely had he taken advantage of his solitude by set- 
 tling into an arm-chair and lighting a cigar than Ren- 
 wick displaying an unusual amount of haste and im- 
 portance entered the room, carrying a letter. 
 
 Seeing Loder, he came forward at once. 
 
 " Mr. Fraide's man brought this, sir," he explained. 
 " He was most particular to give it into my hands 
 making sure 'twould reach you. He's waiting for an 
 answer." 
 
 Loder rose and took the letter, a quick thrill of specu- 
 lation and interest springing across his mind. During 
 his time of banishment, he had followed the political 
 situation with feverish attention insupportably chafed 
 by the desire to share in it, apprehensively chilled at the 
 thought of Chilcote's possible behavior. He knew that 
 in the comparatively short interval since Parliament had 
 risen no act of aggression had marked the Russian occu- 
 pation of Meshed, but he also knew that Fraide and his 
 followers looked askance at that great Power's amiable 
 attitude, and at sight of his leader's message his intuition 
 stirred. 
 
 Turning to the nearest lamp, he tore the envelope apart 
 and scanned the letter anxiously. It was written in 
 Fraide's own clear, somewhat old-fashioned handwrit- 
 ing, and opened with a kindly rebuke for his desertion 
 of him since the day of his speech; then immediately, 
 and with characteristic clearness, it opened up the sub- 
 ject nearest the writer's mind. 
 
 Very slowly and attentively Loder read the letter ; and 
 in the extremely quiet manner that, with him, invariably 
 covered emotion, he rnoyetj to the desk, wrote a note,
 
 178 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 and handed it to the waiting servant. But as the man 
 turned towards the door, he called him back. 
 
 " Renwick ! " he said sharply, " when you've given that 
 letter to Mr. Fraide's servant, ask Mrs. Chilcote if she 
 can spare me five minutes." 
 
 When Renwick had gone and closed the door behind 
 him, Loder began to pace the room, with suddenly 
 aroused activity. In one moment the aspect of life had 
 been changed. Ten minutes since, he had been glorying 
 in the risk of a barely saved situation ; now that situation, 
 with its merely social complications, had become a mat- 
 ter of small importance. 
 
 His long striding steps had carried him to the fire- 
 place, and his back was towards the door when at last 
 the handle turned. He wheeled around to receive Eve's 
 message ; then a look of pleased surprise crossed his face. 
 It was Eve herself who stood in the doorway. 
 
 Without hesitation, his lips parted. 
 
 " Eve ! " he said abruptly, " I have great news ! Rus- 
 sia has shown her teeth at last. Two caravans belonging 
 to a British trader were yesterday interfered with by a 
 band of Cossacks. The affair occurred a couple of miles 
 outside Meshed. The traders remonstrated ; but the Rus- 
 sians made summary use of their advantage. Two Eng- 
 lishmen were wounded, and one of them has since died. 
 Fraide has only now received the news which cannot 
 be overrated. It gives the precise lever necessary for 
 the big move at the reassembling." He spoke with great 
 earnestness and unusual haste; and as he finished, he 
 took a step forward. 
 
 " But that isn't all ! " he added. " Fraide wants the 
 great move set in motion by a great speech and he has 
 asked me to make it." 
 
 For a moment Eve waited. She looked at him in si- 
 lence, and in that silence he read in her eyes the reflec- 
 tion of his own thoughts. 
 
 " And you ? " she asked in a suppressed voice. " What 
 answer did you give ? " 
 
 He watched her for an instant, taking a strange pleas- 
 ure in her flushed face and brilliantly eager eyes; then
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 179 
 
 the joy of conscious strength, the sense of opportunity 
 regained, swept all other considerations out of sight. 
 
 " I accepted," he said quickly. " Could any man who 
 was merely human have done otherwise? " 
 
 That was Loder's attitude and action on the night of 
 his jeopardy and his success, and the following day 
 found his mood unchanged. He was one of those rare 
 individuals who never give a promise overnight to regret 
 it in the morning. He was slow to move; but when he 
 did, the movement brushed all obstacles aside. In the 
 first days of his usurpation he had gone cautiously half 
 fascinated, half distrustful ; then the reality, the ex- 
 traordinary tangibility of the position had gripped him, 
 when, matching himself for the first time with men of his 
 own caliber, he had learned his real weight on the day 
 of his protest against the Easter adjournment. With 
 that knowledge had been born the dominant factor in 
 his whole scheme the overwhelming, insistent desire to 
 manifest his power, that desire that is the salvation or 
 the ruin of every strong man who has once realized his 
 strength. Supremacy was the note to which his ambition 
 reached. To trample out Chilcote's footmarks with his 
 own had been his tacit instinct from the first; now that 
 instinct rose paramount. It was the whole theory of cre- 
 ation this survival of the fittest this deep egotistical 
 certainly that he was the better man. 
 
 It was with this conviction that he entered on the vital 
 period of his dual career. The imminent political crisis, 
 and his personal share in it, absorbed him absolutely. 
 In the weeks that followed his answer to Fraide's pro- 
 posal, he gave himself ungrudgingly to his work. He 
 wrote, read, and planned with tireless energy; he fre- 
 quently forgot to eat; and he slept only through sheer 
 exhaustion. In the fullest sense of the word he lived for 
 the culminating hour that was to bring him failure or 
 success. 
 
 He seldom left Grosvenor Square in the days that fol- 
 lowed, except to confer with his party. All his interest
 
 180 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 all his relaxation lay in his work and what per- 
 tained to it. His strength was like a solid wall, his in- 
 telligence was as sharp and keen as steel. The moment 
 was his, and by sheer mastery of will he put other con- 
 siderations out of sight. He forgot Chilcote and for- 
 got Lillian not because they escaped his memory, but 
 because he chose to shut them from it. 
 
 Of Eve, he saw but little in this time of high pres- 
 sure. When a man touches the core of his capacities 
 puts his best into the work that in his eyes stands para- 
 mount there is little place for, and no need of woman. 
 She comes before and after. She inspires, compensates 
 or completes ; but the achievement, the creation, is man's 
 alone. And all true women understand and yield to this 
 unspoken precept. 
 
 Eve watched the progress of his labor; and in the 
 depth of her own heart the watching came nearer to 
 actual living than any activity she had known. She was 
 an onlooker but an onlooker who stood, as it were, on 
 the steps of the arena ; one who, by a single forward 
 movement, could feel the sand under her feet, the breath 
 of the battle on her face. 
 
 There were hours when Loder seemed scarcely con- 
 scious of her existence ; but this never troubled her. She 
 knew that before the afternoon of each day had passed 
 he would come into her sitting-room his face thought- 
 ful, his hands full of books or papers and dropping 
 into one of the comfortable, studious chairs, would ask 
 laconically for tea. This was her moment of triumph 
 and recompense, for the very unconsciousness of his com- 
 ing doubled its value. He would sit for half an hour 
 with a preoccupied glance, or possibly with keen alert 
 eyes fixed upon the fire, while his ideas sorted them- 
 selves and fell into line. Sometimes he was silent for 
 the whole half hour, and sometimes he commented to 
 himself as he scanned his notes ; but on other and rarer 
 occasions he talked speaking his thoughts and his the- 
 ories aloud with the enjoyment of a man who knows 
 himself fully in his depth while Eve sipped her tea, or 
 stitched peacefully at a strip of embroidery.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 181 
 
 On these occasions she made a perfect listener. Here 
 and there she encouraged him with an intelligent remark, 
 but she never interrupted. She knew when to be silent 
 and when to speak ; when to merge her own individual- 
 ity and when to make it felt. In these days of stress and 
 preparation he came to her unconsciously for rest; he 
 treated her as he might have treated a younger brother, 
 relying on her discretion, turning to her as if by right 
 for sympathy, comprehension and friendship. Some- 
 times, as they sat silent in the richly colored, homelike 
 room, Eve would pause over her stitching, and let her 
 thoughts spin momentarily forward towards the point 
 where the brunt of his ordeal passed he must of ne- 
 cessity seek something beyond mere rest. But there 
 her thoughts would inevitably break off, and the blood 
 flame quickly into her cheeks. 
 
 Meanwhile Loder worked persistently. With each 
 day that brought the crisis of Fraide's scheme nearer, 
 his activity increased, and, with it, the nervous strain of 
 the situation. For if he had his hours of exaltation, 
 he also had his hours of black apprehension. It is all 
 very well to exorcise a ghost by sheer strength of will, 
 but one has also to eliminate the idea that gave it exis- 
 tence. Lillian Astrupp with her unattested evidence 
 and her ephemeral interest gave him no real uneasiness ; 
 but Chilcote, and Chilcote's possible summons, were 
 matters of graver consideration ; and there were times 
 when they loomed very dark and sinister. What, he 
 would sometimes ask himself, if at the moment of ful- 
 filment ? But there he invariably snapped the thread 
 
 of his supposition, and turned with fiercer ardor to his 
 work of preparation. 
 
 And so the last morning of his probation dawned, 
 and for the first time he breathed freely. 
 
 He rose early on the day that was to witness his great 
 effort and dressed slowly. It was a splendid morning; 
 the spirit of the spring seemed embodied in the air, in 
 the pale blue sky, in the shafts of cool sunshine that 
 danced from the mirror to the dressing-table and from 
 the dressing-table to the pictures in Chilcote's vast room.
 
 182 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Inconsequently, with its dancing, there rose to Loder's 
 mind a memory of the distant past a memory of long- 
 forgotten days when, as a child, he had been bidden to 
 watch the same sun perform the same fantastic evolu- 
 tions. The sight and the thought stirred him with a 
 sense of youth. He drew himself together with an 
 added touch of decision, as he passed out into the corri- 
 dor, and as he walked downstairs he whistled a bar or two 
 of an inspiriting tune. 
 
 In the morning-room Eve was already waiting. She 
 looked up, colored and smiled as he entered. Her face 
 looked very fresh and young, and she wore a gown of 
 the same pale blue that she had worn on his first com- 
 ing. 
 
 She had glanced up from an open letter as he came 
 into the room, and the sun that fell through the win- 
 dow had caught her in a shaft of light intensifying her 
 blue eyes, her blue gown, and the bunch of violets fast- 
 ened in her belt. To Loder still under the influence 
 of early memories she seemed the embodiment of some 
 youthful ideal ; something lost, sought for, and found 
 again. Realization of his true feeling for her almost 
 came to him as he stood there. It hovered about him ; 
 it tipped him, as it were, with its wings; then it rose 
 again and soared away. Men like him men keen to 
 grasp an opening where their careers are concerned, and 
 tenacious to hold it when once grasped are frequently 
 the last to see into their own hearts. He looked at her 
 admiringly ; he acknowledged the stir of his feeling ; but 
 he made no attempt to define its cause. He could no 
 more have given reason for his sensation than he could 
 have told the precise date upon which, coming down- 
 stairs at eight o'clock, he had first found her waiting 
 breakfast for him. The time when all such incidents 
 were to stand out each to a nicety in its appointed place 
 had not yet arrived. For the moment, his youth had 
 returned to him; he possessed the knowledge of work 
 done, the sense of present companionship in a world of 
 agreeable things above all, the steady, quiet conviction 
 of his own capacity. All these things came to him in
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 183 
 
 the moment of his entering the room and passing to 
 the breakfast-table. Then, while his eyes still rested 
 contentedly on the pleasant array of china and silver, 
 while his senses were still alive to the fresh, earthy 
 scent of Eve's violets, the blow so long dreaded, so slow 
 in coming, fell with accumulated force. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The blow fell in the form of a letter that lay awaiting 
 him on his plate. It was written on cheap paper in a 
 disguised hand, and the contents covered only half a 
 page. Loder read it slowly, mentally articulating every 
 word ; then he laid it down, and as he did so he caught 
 Eve's eyes raised in concern. Once again he saw some- 
 thing of his own feelings reflected in her face, and the 
 shock braced him. He picked up the letter, tearing it 
 into strips. 
 
 " I must go out," he said slowly. " I must go now 
 at once." His voice sounded cold and hard. 
 
 Eve's surprised, concerned eyes searched his. " Now 
 at once? " she repeated. " Now without breakfast? " 
 
 " Oh ! I'm not hungry." He rose from his seat, and 
 carrying the slips of paper across the room dropped 
 them into the fire. He did it, not so much from cau- 
 tion, as from an imperative wish to do something 
 to move, if only across the room. 
 
 Eve's glance followed him. " Is it bad news ? " she 
 asked anxiously. It was unlike her to be insistent; but 
 she was stirred to the impulse by the peculiarity of the 
 moment. 
 
 " No," he said shortly. " It's business. This was 
 written yesterday; I should have got it last night." 
 
 Her eyes widened. " But nobody does business at 
 
 eight in the morning " she began in astonishment; 
 
 then she suddenly broke off. 
 
 Without apology or farewell, Loder had left the fire- 
 place and passed through the door into the hall.
 
 184 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 He stepped hurriedly to the outer door, picking up a 
 hat as he went; and reaching the pavement, he walked 
 briskly forward until Grosvenor Square was left behind ; 
 then he ran. At the risk of reputation at the loss of 
 dignity he ran until he saw a cab. Hailing it, he sprang 
 inside; and then as the cabman whipped up and the 
 horse responded to the call he realized for the first time 
 the full significance of what had occurred. 
 
 Realization like the need for action came to him 
 slowly; but when it came it was with terrible lucidity. 
 He did not swear as he leant back in his seat, mechanic- 
 ally watching the stream of men on their way to busi- 
 ness, the belated cars of green produce blocking the way 
 between the Strand and Covent Garden. He had no use 
 for oaths his feelings lay deeper than mere words. 
 But his mouth was sternly set and his eyes looked cold. 
 
 Outside the Law Courts he dismissed his cab, and 
 walked forward to Clifford's Inn. As he passed through 
 the familiar entrance a chill fell upon him. In the clear 
 early light it seemed more than ever a place of dead 
 hopes, dead enterprises, dead ambitions. In the on- 
 ward march of life it had been forgotten. The very air 
 had a breath of unfulfilment. 
 
 He crossed the court rapidly ; but his mouth set itself 
 afresh as he passed through the doorway of his own 
 house and crossed the bare hall. 
 
 As he mounted the well-known stairs he received his 
 first indication of life in the appearance of a cat from 
 the second-floor rooms. At sight of him the animal 
 came forward, rubbed demonstratively against his legs, 
 and with affectionate persistence, followed him upstairs. 
 
 Outside his own door he paused. On the ground stood 
 the usual morning can of milk evidence that Chilcote 
 was not yet awake ; or that, like himself, he had no appe- 
 tite for breakfast. He smiled ironically as the idea 
 struck him, but it was a smile that stiffened rather than 
 relaxed his lips. Then he drew out the duplicate key 
 that he always carried, and inserting it quietly, opened 
 the door. 
 
 A close unpleasant smell greeted him as he entere4
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 185 
 
 the small passage that divided the bed and sitting-rooms 
 a smell of whisky mingling with the odor of stale 
 smoke. With a quick gesture he pushed open the bed- 
 room door; but on the threshold he paused a look of 
 contempt and repulsion passing over his face. 
 
 At a first glance he scarcely grasped the details of 
 the room, for the half-drawn curtains kept the light dim ; 
 but as his eyes grew accustomed to the obscurity, he 
 gathered their significance. 
 
 The room had a sleepless, jaded air the room that 
 under his own occupation had shown a rigid, almost a 
 monastic severity. The plain dressing-table was littered 
 with cigarette ends, and marked with black and tawny 
 patches where the tobacco had been left to burn itself 
 out. On one corner of the table a carafe of water and 
 a whisky decanter rested one against the other, as if for 
 support ; and at the other end an overturned tumbler lay 
 in a pool of liquid. The whole effect was sickly and 
 nauseating. His glance turned involuntarily to the bed, 
 and there halted. 
 
 On the hard narrow mattress, from which the sheets 
 and blankets had fallen in a disordered heap, lay Chil- 
 cote. He was fully dressed in a shabby tweed suit of 
 Loder's ; his collar was open, his lip and chin unshaven ; 
 one hand was limply grasping the pillow, while the other 
 hung out over the side of the bed. His face pale and 
 almost earthy in hue might have been a mask, save 
 for the slight convulsive spasms that crossed it from 
 time to time, and corresponded with the faint shivering 
 starts that passed at intervals over his whole body. To 
 complete his repellant appearance, a lock of hair had 
 fallen loose, and lay black and damp across his forehead. 
 
 Loder stood for a space, shocked and fascinated by 
 the sight. Even in the ghastly disarray, the likeness 
 the extraordinary sinister likeness, that had become the 
 pivot upon which he himself revolved struck him like 
 a blow. The man who lay there was himself bound to 
 him by some subtle, inexplicable tie of similarity. As 
 the idea touched him, he turned aside and stepped 
 quickly to the dressing-table : there, with an unneces-
 
 186 JOHN CHILCOTE; OK, 
 
 sary energy, he flung back the curtains and threw the 
 window wide; then again he turned towards the bed. 
 He had one dominant impulse, to waken Chilcote to 
 be free of the repulsive inert presence that chilled him 
 with so personal a horror. Leaning over the bed, he 
 caught the shoulder nearest to him and shook it. It 
 was not the moment for niceties, and his gesture was 
 rough. 
 
 At his first touch Chilcote made no response; his 
 brain dulled by indulgence in his vice had become a 
 laggard in conveying sensations ; but at last, as the pres- 
 sure on his shoulder increased, his nervous system 
 seemed suddenly to jar into consciousness. A long shud- 
 der shook him ; he half lifted himself, and then dropped 
 back upon the pillow. 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed in a trembling breath. " Oh ! " 
 The sound seemed drawn from him by compulsion. 
 
 Its uncanny tone chilled Loder anew. 
 
 " Wake up, man ! " he said suddenly. " Wake up ! 
 It's I Loder." 
 
 Again the other shuddered ; and turning, stared at his 
 visitor. 
 
 "Loder?" he said doubtfully. "Loder?" Then 
 his face changed. " Good God ! " he exclaimed. " What 
 a relief!" 
 
 The words were so intense, so spontaneous and unex- 
 pected, that Loder took a step back. 
 
 Chilcote laughed discordantly, and lifted a shaky hand 
 to protect his eyes from the light. 
 
 " It's it's all right, Loder ! It's all right ! It's only 
 that I that I had a beastly dream. But for Heaven's 
 sake, man, shut that window ! " He shivered involun- 
 tarily, and pushed the lock of damp hair from his fore- 
 head with a weak touch of his old irritability. 
 
 In silence Loder moved back to the window and shut it. 
 He was affected more than he would own even to him- 
 self by the obvious change in Chilcote. He had seen him 
 moody, restless, nervbusly excited, but never before had 
 he seen him entirely demoralized. With a dull feeling of
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 187 
 
 impotence and disgust he stood by the closed window, 
 looking unseeingly at the roofs of the opposite houses. 
 
 But Chilcote had followed his movements restlessly; 
 and now, as he watched him pause, a flicker of excite- 
 ment crossed his face. 
 
 " God ! Loder," he said again, " 'twas a relief to see 
 you ! I dreamt I was in hell a horrible hell, worse than 
 the one they preach about " He laughed to reas- 
 sure himself, but his voice shook pitiably. 
 
 Loder, who had come to fight, stood silent and inert. 
 
 " It was horrible beastly," Chilcote went on. " There 
 was no fire and brimstone, but there was something worse. 
 It was a great ironic scheme of punishment, by which 
 every man. was chained to his own vice by which the 
 thing he had gone to pieces over, instead of being de- 
 nied him, was made compulsory ! You can't imagine it." 
 He shivered nervously, and his voice rose. " Fancy being 
 satiated beyond the limit of satiety! Being driven and 
 dogged by the thing you had run after all your life ! " 
 
 He paused excitedly, and in the pause Loder found 
 resolution. He shut his eyes to the panic in Chilcote's 
 voice; he closed his consciousness to the sight of his 
 shaken face. With a surge of determination he rallied 
 his theories. After all, he had himself and his own in- 
 terests to claim his thought. At the moment, Chilcote 
 was a wreck with no desire towards rehabilitation, but 
 there was no guarantee that in an hour he might not 
 have regained control over himself, and with it the inclina- 
 tion that had prompted his letter of the day before. No ; 
 he had himself to look to. The survival of the fittest 
 was the true, the only principle. Chilcote had had intel- 
 lect, education, opportunity, and Chilcote had deliberately 
 cast them all aside. Fortifying himself in the knowledge, 
 he turned from the window and moved slowly back to the 
 bed. 
 
 " Look here ! " he began. " You wrote for me last 
 night " His voice was hard. He had come to fight. 
 
 Chilcote glanced up quickly. His mouth was drawn, 
 and there was a new anxiety in his eyes,
 
 188 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Loder ! " he exclaimed quickly. " Loder, come here ! 
 Come nearer ! " 
 
 Reluctantly Loder obeyed. Stepping closer to the bed, 
 he bent down. 
 
 The other put up his hand and caught his arm. His 
 fingers trembled and jerked. 
 
 " I say, Loder," he said suddenly, " I I've had such 
 a beastly night my nerves you know " 
 
 With a quick involuntary disgust Loder drew back. 
 
 " Don't you think we might shove that aside ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 But Chilcote's gaze had wandered from his face and 
 strayed to the dressing-table; there it moved feverishly 
 from one object to another. 
 
 " Loder ! " he exclaimed, " do you see can you see if 
 there's a tube of tabloids on the mantel-shelf or on the 
 dressing-table ? " He lifted himself nervously on his 
 elbow, and his eyes wandered uneasily about the room. 
 " I I had a beastly night ; my nerves are horribly jarred, 
 and I thought I think " He stopped. 
 
 With his increasing consciousness, his nervous collapse 
 became more marked. At the first moment of waking, 
 the relief of an unexpected presence had surmounted 
 everything else; but now, as one by one his faculties 
 stirred, his wretched condition became patent. With a 
 new sense of perturbation, Loder made his next attack. 
 
 " Chilcote " he began sternly. 
 
 But again Chilcote caught his arm, plucking at the 
 coat-sleeve. 
 
 " Where is it ? " he said. " Where is the tube of tab- 
 loids the sedative? I'm I'm obliged to take some- 
 thing when my nerves go wrong." In his weakness and 
 nervous tremor, he forgot that Loder was the sharer of 
 his secret. Even in his extremity, his fear of detection 
 clung to him limply; the lies that had become second 
 nature slipped from him without effort. Then suddenly 
 a fresh panic seized him his fingers tightened spasmod- 
 ically, his eyes ceased to rove about the room, and set- 
 tjed on his companion's face. 
 
 -" Can you see it, Loder ? " he cried. " I can't the
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 189 
 
 light's in my eyes. Can you see it? Can you see the 
 tube ? " He lifted himself higher, an agony of appre- 
 hension in his face. 
 
 Loder pushed him back upon the pillow. He was 
 striving hard to keep his own mind cool to steer his 
 own course through the chaos that confronted him. 
 
 " Chilcote," he began once more, " you sent for me 
 last night, and I have come the first thing this morning 
 to tell you " 
 
 With an excitement that lent him strength, Chilcote 
 pushed aside his hands. 
 
 " God ! " he said suddenly, " suppose 'twas lost sup- 
 pose 'twas gone ! " The imaginary possibility gripped 
 him. He sat up, his face livid, drops of perspiration 
 showing on his forehead, his whole shattered system trem- 
 bling before his thought. 
 
 At the sight Loder set his lips. " The tube is on the 
 mantel-shelf," he said in a cold, abrupt voice. 
 
 A groan of relief fell from Chilcote, and the mus- 
 cles of his face relaxed. For a moment he lay back with 
 closed eyes ; then the desire that tortured him stirred 
 afresh. He lifted his eyelids and looked at his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Hand it to me," he said quickly. " Give it to me. 
 Give it to me, Loder. Quick as you can ! There's a glass 
 on the table and some whisky-and-water. The tabloids 
 
 dissolve, you know " In his new excitement he held 
 
 out his hand. 
 
 But Loder stayed motionless. He had come to fight 
 to demand to plead, if need be, for his one hour; .the 
 hour that was to justify all labor, all endeavor, all ambi- 
 tion. With dogged persistence he made one more essay. 
 
 " Chilcote, you wrote last night to recall me " But 
 
 once again he paused, checked by a new interruption. Sit- 
 ting up again, Chilcote struck out suddenly with his left 
 hand in a rush of his old irritability. 
 
 " Damn you ! " he cried suddenly, " what are you 
 talking about ? Look at me ! Get me the stuff ; I tell 
 you it's imperative ! " In his excitement his breath failed
 
 190 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 and he coughed. At the effort his whole frame was 
 shaken. 
 
 Loder walked to the dressing-table, then back to the 
 bed. A deep agitation was at work within his mind. 
 
 Again Chilcote's lips parted. " Loder," he said faintly 
 but excitedly. " Loder, I must I must have it. It's 
 imperative." Once more he attempted to lift himself, 
 but the effort was futile. 
 
 Again Loder turned away. 
 
 " Loder for God's sake " 
 
 With a fierce gesture the other turned on him. 
 
 " Good heavens, man " he began. Then unaccount- 
 ably his voice changed. The suggestion that had been 
 hovering in his own mind took sudden and definite shape. 
 
 " All right ! " he said in a lower voice. " All right ! 
 Stay as you are." 
 
 He crossed to where the empty tumbler stood, and 
 hastily mixed the whisky-and-water ; then crossing to the 
 mantelpiece where lay the small glass tube containing the 
 tabloids, he paused and glanced once more towards the 
 bed. 
 
 " How many?" he said laconically. 
 
 Chilcote lifted his head. His face was pitiably drawn, 
 but the feverish brightness in his eves had increased. 
 
 " Five," he said sharply. " Five/' 
 
 " Five ? " Involuntarily Loder lowered the hand that 
 held the tube. From previous confidences of Chilcote's, 
 he knew the amount of morphia contained in each tab- 
 loid ; and he realized that five tabloids, if not an abso- 
 lutely dangerous, was at least an excessive dose, even for 
 one accustomed to the drug. For a moment his resolu- 
 tion failed ; then the dominant note of his nature the 
 unconscious, fundamental egotism on which his character 
 was based asserted itself beyond denial. It might be 
 reprehensible, it might even be criminal, to accede to such 
 a request, made by a man in such a condition of body 
 and mind. Yet the laws of the universe demand self- 
 assertion prompt every human mind to desire, to grasp 
 and to hold. With a perception swifter than any he had 
 experienced, he realized the certain respite to be gained
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. l9l 
 
 by yielding to his impulse. He looked at Chilcote, with 
 his haggard, anxious expression, his eager, restless eyes ; 
 and a vision of himself followed sharp upon the glance, 
 a vision of the untiring labor of the past ten days 
 of the slowly kindling ambition of the supremacy all but 
 gained. As the picture completed itself, he lifted his 
 hand with an abrupt movement and dropped the five tab- 
 loids one after another into the glass. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Having taken a definite step in any direction, it was 
 not in Loder's nature to wish it retraced. His face was 
 set, but set with determination, when he closed the outer 
 door of his own rooms and passed quietly down the stairs 
 and out into the silent court. The thought of Chilcote, 
 his pitiable condition, his sordid environments, were 
 things that required a firm will to drive into the back- 
 ground of the imagination ; but a whole inferno of such 
 visions would not have daunted him on that morning as, 
 unobserved by any eyes, he left the little courtyard with 
 its grass, its trees, its pavement all so distastefully 
 familiar and passed down the Strand towards life and 
 action. 
 
 As he walked, his steps increased in speed and vigor. 
 Now, for the first time, he fully appreciated the great 
 mental strain that he had undergone in the past ten 
 days, the unnatural tension, the suppressed, but perpet- 
 ual sense of impending recall, the consequently high pres- 
 sure at which work, and even existence, had been carried 
 on. And as he hurried forward, the natural reaction to 
 this state of things came upon him in a flood of security 
 and confidence a strong realization of the temporary re- 
 spite and freedom for which no price would have seemed 
 too high. The moment for which he had unconsciously 
 lived ever since Chilcote's first memorable proposition, 
 was within reach at last safeguarded by his own action. 
 
 The walk from Clifford's Inn to Grosvenor Square was
 
 192 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 long enough to dispel any excitement that his interview 
 had aroused ; and long before the well-known house came 
 into view, he felt sufficiently braced mentally and physi- 
 cally to seek Eve in the morning-room where he instinc- 
 tively felt she would still be waiting for him. 
 
 Thus he encountered and overpassed the obstacle that 
 had so nearly threatened ruin ; and with the singleness of 
 purpose that always distinguished him, he was able, once 
 having passed it, to dismiss it altogether from his mind. 
 From the moment of his return to Chilcote's house no 
 misgiving as to his own action, no shadow of doubt, rose 
 to trouble his mind. His feelings on the matter were 
 quite simple. He had inordinately desired a certain op- 
 portunity; one factor had arisen to debar that opportun- 
 ity; and he, claiming the right of strength, had set the 
 barrier aside. In the simplicity of the reasoning lay its 
 power to convince ; and were a tonic needed to brace him 
 for his task, he was provided with one in the masterful 
 sense of a difficulty set at naught. For the man who 
 has fought and conquered one obstacle feels strong to 
 vanquish a score. 
 
 It was on this day at the reassembling of Parliament 
 that Fraide's great blow was to be struck. In the ten 
 days since the affair of the caravans had been reported 
 from Persia public feeling had run high, and it was upon 
 the pivot of this incident that Loder's attack was to turn ; 
 for, as Lakeley was fond of remarking, " In the scales 
 of public opinion, one dead Englishman has more weight 
 than the whole Eastern Question ! " It had been ar- 
 ranged that, following the customary procedure, Loder 
 was to rise after questions at the morning sitting, and 
 ask leave to move the adjournment of the House " on a 
 definite matter of urgent public importance " namely, 
 the perilous position of English subjects in the district of 
 Meshed ; and by this means leave having been granted 
 in the rising of forty supporters the way was to lie 
 clear for his moving of the motion at the evening sitting. 
 With his mind attuned to this programme, he retired to 
 the study immediately he had breakfasted, and settled 
 to a final revision of his speech before an early party
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 193 
 
 conference should compel him to leave the house. But 
 here again circumstances were destined to change his 
 programme. Scarcely had he sorted his notes and drawn 
 his chair to Chilcote's desk than Renwick entered the 
 room with the same air of important haste that he had 
 shown on a previous occasion. 
 
 " A letter from Mr. Fraide, sir. But there's no an- 
 swer," he said with unusual brevity. 
 
 Loder waited until he had left the room, then he tore 
 the letter open. 
 
 " MY DEAR CHILCOTE," he read, " Lakeley is the recip- 
 ient of special and very vital news from Meshed unof- 
 ficial, but none the less alarming. Acts of Russian ag- 
 gression towards British traders are reported to be rap- 
 idly increasing, and it is stated that the authority of the 
 Consulate is treated with contempt. Pending a possible 
 confirmation of this, I would suggest that you keep an 
 open mind on the subject of to-night's, speech. By main- 
 taining an expectant even a partially unprepared atti- 
 tude, you may find your hand materially strengthened. 
 I shall put my opinions before you more explicitly when 
 we meet. Yours faithfully, 
 
 " HERBERT FRAIDE." 
 
 The letter, worded with Fraide's usual restraint, made 
 a strong impression on its recipient. The thought that 
 his speech might not only express opinions already tac- 
 itly held, but voice a situation of intense and national 
 importance, struck him with full force. For many min- 
 utes after he had grasped the meaning of Fraide's mes- 
 sage he sat neglectful of his notes, his elbows resting on 
 the desk, his face between his hands, stirred by the 
 suggestion that here might lie a greater opportunity 
 than any he had anticipated. 
 
 Still moved by this new suggestion, he attended the 
 party conclave that Fraide had convened, and afterwards 
 lunched with and accompanied his leader to the House. 
 They spoke very little as they drove to Westminster, 
 for each was engrossed by his own thoughts, Qnly
 
 194 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 once did Fraide allude to the incident that was para- 
 mount in both their minds. Then, turning to Loder with 
 a smile of encouragement, he laid his fingers for an 
 instant en his arm. 
 
 " Chilcote," he said, " when the time comes, remem- 
 ber you have all my confidence." 
 
 Looking back upon that day, Loder often wondered 
 at the calmness with which he bore the suspense of his 
 position. To sit apparently unmoved, and wait without 
 emotion for news that might change the whole tenor of 
 his action, would have tried the stoicism of the most 
 experienced; to the novice it was wellnigh unendurable. 
 And it was under these conditions, and fighting against 
 these odds, that he sat through the long afternoon in 
 Chilcote's place, obeying the dictates of his chief. But 
 if the day was fraught with difficulties for him, it was 
 fraught with dullness and disappointment for others ; for 
 the undercurrent of interest that had stirred at the Eas- 
 ter adjournment, and had risen with added force on this 
 first day of the new session, was gradually but surely 
 threatened with extinction, as hour after hour passed, 
 bringing no suggestion of the battle that had on every 
 side been tacitly expected. Slowly and unmistakably 
 speculation and dissatisfaction crept into the atmosphere 
 of the House, as moment succeeded moment, and the 
 Opposition made no sign. Was Fraide shirking the at- 
 tack? Or was he playing a waiting game? Again and 
 again the question arose, filling the air with a passing 
 flicker of interest ; but each time it sprang up only to die 
 down again, as the ordinary business of the day dragged 
 itself out. 
 
 Gradually, as the afternoon wore on, daylight began 
 to fade. Loder, sitting rigidly in Chilcote's place, watched 
 with suppressed inquiry the faces of the men who en- 
 tered through the constantly swinging doors ; but not one 
 face, so eagerly scanned, carried the message for which 
 he waited. Monotonously and mechanically time passed. 
 The Government, adopting a neutral attitude, carefully 
 skirted all dangerous subjects ; while the Opposition, act- 
 ing under Frame's suggestion, assisted rather than bin-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 195 
 
 dered the programme of postponement. For the moment, 
 the eagerly anticipated reassembling threatened dismal 
 failure ; and it was with a universal movement of weari- 
 ness and relief that at last the House rose to dine. 
 
 But there are no possibilities so elastic as those of 
 politics. At half-past seven the House rose in a spirit 
 of boredom and disappointment ; and at eight o'clock the 
 Lobbies, the dining-room, the entire space of the vast 
 building, was stirred into activity by the arrival of a 
 single telegraphic message. 
 
 The new development for which Fraide had waited 
 came indeed ; but it came with a force he had little antici- 
 pated. With a thrill of awe and consternation men 
 heard and repeated the astounding news that while 
 personally exercising his authority on behalf of British 
 traders Sir William Brice-Field, Consul-General at 
 Meshed, had been fired at by a Russian officer and in- 
 stantly killed. 
 
 The interval immediately following the receipt of this 
 news was too confused for detailed remembrance. Two 
 impressions made themselves slowly felt, a deep horror 
 that such an event could obtrude itself upon our high 
 civilization, and a strong personal dismay that so hon- 
 ored, distinguished and esteemed a representative as Sir 
 William Brice-Field could have been allowed to meet 
 death in so terrible a manner. 
 
 And it was in the consciousness of this feeling the 
 consciousness that, in his own person, he might voice, 
 not only the feelings of his party, but those of the 
 whole country that Loder rose an hour later to make 
 his long anticipated attack. 
 
 He stood silent for a moment, as he had done on an 
 earlier occasion ; but this time his motive was a different 
 one. Roused beyond any feeling of self-consciousness, 
 he waited as by right for the full attention of the House ; 
 then quietly but with marked self-confidence, he moved 
 the motion for adjournment. 
 
 Like a match to a train of powder, the words set 
 flame to the excitement that had smouldered for weeks; 
 and in an atmosphere of stirring activity, a scene of
 
 196 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 such tense and vital concentration as the House has 
 rarely witnessed, he found inspiration for his great 
 achievement. 
 
 To give Loder's speech in mere words would be little 
 short of futile. The gift of oratory is too illusive, too 
 much a matter of eye and voice and individuality, to 
 allow of cold reproduction. To those who heard him 
 speak on that night of April the eighteenth, the speech 
 will require no recalling; and to those who did not hear 
 him, there would be no substitute in bare reproduction. 
 
 In the moment of action it mattered nothing to him 
 that his previous preparations were to a great extent 
 rendered useless by this news that had come with such 
 paralyzing effect. In the sweeping consciousness of his 
 own ability, he found added joy in the freedom it opened 
 up. He ceased to consider that by Fate he was a Con- 
 servative, bound by traditional conventionalities : in that 
 great moment he knew himself sufficiently a man to 
 exercise whatever individuality instinct prompted. He 
 forgot the didactic methods by which he had proposed 
 to show knowledge of his subject both as a past and a 
 future factor in European politics. With his own strong 
 appreciation of present things, he saw and grasped the 
 vast present interest lying beneath his hand. 
 
 For fifty minutes he held the interest of the House, 
 speaking insistently, fearlessly, commandingly on the 
 immediate need of action. He unhesitatingly pointed out 
 that the news which had just reached England was not 
 so much an appalling fact as a sinister warning to those 
 in whose keeping lay the safety of the country's inter- 
 ests. Lastly, with a fine touch of eloquence, he paid 
 tribute to the steadfast fidelity of such men as Sir Will- 
 iam Brice-Field who, whatever political complications 
 arise at home, pursue their duty unswervingly on the 
 outposts of the Empire. 
 
 At his last words there was silence the silence that 
 marks a genuine effect then all at once, with vehement, 
 impressive force, the storm of enthusiasm broke its 
 bounds. 
 
 It was one of those stupendous bursts of feeling that
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 197 
 
 no etiquette, no decorum, is powerful enough to quell. 
 As he resumed his seat, very pale but exalted as men 
 are exalted only once or twice in a lifetime, it rose about 
 him clamorous, spontaneous, undeniable. Near at hand, 
 were the faces of his party, excited and triumphant; 
 across the House, were the faces of Sefborough and his 
 Ministry, uncomfortable and disturbed. 
 
 The tumult swelled, then fell away ; and in the partial 
 lull that followed, Fraide leant over the back of his seat. 
 His quiet dignified expression was unaltered, but his eyes 
 were intensely bright. 
 
 " Chilcote," he whispered, " I don't congratulate you 
 or myself. I congratulate the country on possessing a 
 great man ! " 
 
 The remaining features of the debate followed quickly 
 one upon the other ; the electric atmosphere of the House 
 possessed a strong incentive power. Immediately Lod- 
 er's ovation had subsided, the Under-Secretary for For- 
 eign Affairs rose, and in a careful and non-incriminating 
 reply defended the attitude of the Government. 
 
 Next came Fraide, who, in one of his rare and pol- 
 ished speeches, touched with much feeling upon his per- 
 sonal grief at the news reported from Persia, and made 
 emphatic indorsement of Loder's words. 
 
 Following Fraide, came one or two dissentient Lib- 
 erals, and then Sefborough himself closed the debate. 
 His speech was masterly and fluent ; but though any dis- 
 quietude he may have felt was well disguised under a 
 tone of reassuring ease, the attempt to rehabilitate his 
 position already weakened in more than one direction 
 was a task beyond his strength. 
 
 Amid extraordinary excitement the division followed 
 and with it a Government defeat. 
 
 It was not until half an hour after the votes had been 
 taken that Loder, freed at last from persistent con- 
 gratulations, found opportunity to look for Eve. In 
 accordance with a promise made that morning, he was to
 
 198 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 find her waiting outside the Ladies' Gallery at the close 
 of the debate. 
 
 Disengaging himself from the group of men who had 
 surrounded and followed him down the Lobby, he dis- 
 carded the lift and ran up the narrow staircase. Reach- 
 ing the landing, he went forward hurriedly ; then, with 
 a certain abrupt movement, he paused. In the door- 
 way leading to the Gallery Eve was waiting for him. The 
 place was not brightly lighted, and she was standing in 
 the shadow ; but it needed only a glance to assure his 
 recognition of her. He could almost have seen in the 
 the dark that night, so vivid were his perceptions. He 
 took a step towards her, then again he stopped. At a 
 second glance he realized that her eyes were bright with 
 tears ; and it was with the strangest sensation he had ever 
 experienced that the knowledge flashed upon him. Here 
 also he had struck the same note the long-coveted note 
 of supremacy. It had rung out full and clear as he stood 
 in Chilcote's place, dominating the House; it had be- 
 sieged him clamorously as he passed along the Lobbies 
 amid a sea of friendly hands and voices; now, in the 
 quiet of the deserted Gallery, it came home to him with 
 deeper meaning from the eyes of Chilcote's wife. 
 
 Without a thought, he put out his hands and caught 
 hers. 
 
 " I couldn't get away," he said. " I'm afraid I'm very 
 late." 
 
 With a smile that scattered her tears, Eve looked up. 
 " Are you ? " she said, laughing a little. " I don't know 
 what the time is. I scarcely know whether it's night 
 or day." 
 
 Still holding her hands, he drew her down the stairs ; 
 but as they reached the last step, she released her fin- 
 gers. 
 
 " In the carriage ! " she said with another little laugh 
 of nervous happiness. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs he was besieged afresh. Men 
 whose faces he barely knew crowded about him. The 
 intoxication of excitement was in the air the instinct
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 199 
 
 that a new force had made itself felt, a new epoch been 
 entered upon, stirred prophetically in every mind. 
 
 Passing through the enthusiastic concourse of men, 
 they came unexpectedly upon Fraide and Lady Sarah 
 surrounded by a group of friends. The old statesman 
 came forward instantly, and taking Loder's arm, walked 
 with him to Chilcote's waiting brougham. He said little 
 as they slowly made their way to the carriage, but the 
 pressure of his fingers was tense, and an unwonted color 
 showed in his face. When Eve and Loder had taken 
 their seats, he stepped to the edge of the curb. They 
 were alone for the moment, and leaning close to the 
 carriage, he put his hand through the open window. 
 In silence he took Eve's fingers and held them in a 
 long, affectionate pressure; then he released them and 
 took Loder's hand. 
 
 " Good night, Chilcote ! " he said. " You have proved 
 yourself worthy of her ! Good night ! " He turned 
 quickly and rejoined his waiting friends. In another 
 second the horses had wheeled round, and Eve and Loder 
 were carried swiftly forward into the darkness. 
 
 In the great moments of man's life, woman comes be- 
 fore and after. Some shadow of this truth was in Eve's 
 mind as she lay back in the corner of her seat with closed 
 eyes and parted lips. It seemed that life came to her 
 now for the first time came in the glad, proud, satis- 
 fying tide of things accomplished. This was her hour: 
 and the recognition of it brought the blood to her face 
 in a sudden happy rush. There had been no need to 
 precipitate its coming; it had been ordained from the 
 first. Whether she desired it or no, whether she strove 
 to draw it nearer or strove to ward it off, its coming 
 had been inevitable. She opened her eyes suddenly and 
 looked out into the darkness the darkness throbbing 
 with multitudes of lives, all awaiting, all desiring ful- 
 filment. She was no longer lonely, no longer aloof; 
 she was kin with all this pitiful, admirable, sinning, lov- 
 ing humanity. Again tears of pride and happiness -filled 
 her eyes. Then suddenly the things she had waited for 
 came to pass,
 
 200 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Loder leant close to her. She was intensely conscious 
 of his nearer presence, of his strong, masterful person- 
 ality. With a thrill that caught her breath, she felt 
 his arm about her shoulder and heard the sound of his 
 voice. 
 
 "Eve," he said, "I love you. Do you understand? 
 I love you." And drawing her close to him, he bent and 
 kissed her. 
 
 With Loder, to do was to do fully. When he gave, 
 he gave generously ; when he swept aside a barrier, he 
 left no stone standing. He had been slow to recognize 
 his capacities slower still to recognize his feelings. But 
 now that the knowledge came, he received it openly. In 
 this matter of newly comprehended love he gave no 
 thought to either past or future. That they loved and 
 were alone, was all he knew or questioned. She was as 
 much Eve the one woman as though they were to- 
 gether in the primeval garden; and in this spirit he 
 claimed her. 
 
 He neither spoke nor behaved extravagantly in that 
 great moment of comprehension. He acted quietly, with 
 the completeness of purpose that he gave to everything. 
 He had found a new capacity within himself, and he 
 was strong enough to dread no weakness in displaying 
 it. 
 
 Holding her close to him, he repeated his declaration 
 again and again, as though repetition ratified it. He 
 found no need to question her feeling for him he had 
 divined it in a flash of inspiration as she stood waiting 
 in the doorway of the Gallery but his own surrender 
 was a different matter. 
 
 As the carriage passed round the corner of Whitehall 
 and dipped into the traffic of Piccadilly he bent down 
 again till her soft hair brushed his face; and the warm 
 personal contact, the slight fresh smell of violets so 
 suggestive of her presence, stirred him afresh. 
 
 " Eve," he said vehemently, " do you understand ? Do 
 you know that I have loved you always from the very 
 first ? " As he said it, he bent still nearer, kissing her 
 lips, her forehead, her hair.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 201 
 
 At the same moment the horses slackened speed and 
 then stopped, arrested by one of the temporary blocks 
 that so often occur in the traffic of Piccadilly Circus. 
 
 Loder, preoccupied with his own feelings, scarcely 
 notied the halt, but Eve drew away from him laughing. 
 
 " You mustn't ! " she said softly. " Look ! " 
 
 The carriage had stopped beside one of the small islands 
 that intersect the place; a group of pedestrians were 
 crowded upon it, under the light of the electric lamp 
 wayfarers who, like themselves, were awaiting a pass- 
 age. Loder took a cursory glance at them, then turned 
 back to Eve. 
 
 " What are they, after all, but men and women ! " 
 he said. " They'd understand every one of them." He 
 laughed in his turn; nevertheless he withdrew his arm. 
 Her feminine thought for conventionalities appealed to 
 him. It was an acknowledgment of dependency. 
 
 For a while they sat silent, the light of the street lamp 
 flickering through the glass of the window, the hum of 
 voices and traffic coming to them in a continuous rise 
 and fall of sound. At first the position was interesting; 
 then, as the seconds followed each other, it gradually be- 
 came irksome. Loder, watching the varying expressions 
 of Eve's face, grew impatient of the delay; grew sud- 
 denly eager to be alone again in the fragrant dark- 
 ness. 
 
 Impelled by the desire, he bent forward and opened 
 the carriage window. 
 
 " Let's find the meaning of this," he said. " Is there 
 nobody to regulate the traffic?" As he spoke he half 
 rose and leant out of the window. There was a touch 
 of imperious annoyance in his manner. Fresh from 
 the realization of power, there was something irksome 
 in this commonplace check to his desires. 
 
 " Isn't it possible to get out of this ? " Eve heard him 
 call to the coachman. Then she heard no more. 
 
 H had leaned out of the carriage with the intention 
 of looking onward towards the cause of the delay; in- 
 stead, by that magnetic attraction that undoubtedly exists, 
 he looked directly in front of him at the group of peo-
 
 202 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 pie waiting on the little island at one man who leant 
 against the lamp-post in an attitude of apathy, a man 
 with a pallid unshaven face and lusterless eyes, who 
 wore a cap drawn low over his forehead. 
 
 He looked at this man, and the man saw and returned 
 his glance. For a space that seemed interminable they 
 held each other's eyes; then very slowly Loder drew 
 back into the carriage. 
 
 As he dropped into his seat, Eve glanced at him anxi- 
 ously. 
 
 " John," she said, " has anything happened ? You look 
 ill."* 
 
 He turned to her and tried to smile. 
 
 " It's nothing ! " he said. " Nothing to worry about." 
 He spoke quickly, but his voice had suddenly become flat. 
 All the command, all the domination had dropped away 
 from it. 
 
 She bent close to him, her face lighting up with anx- 
 ious tenderness. " It was the excitement," she said, 
 "the strain of to-night." 
 
 He looked back at her; but he made no attempt to 
 press the fingers that clasped his own. 
 
 " Yes," he said slowly. " It was the excitement of 
 to-night and the reaction." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The next morning at eight o'clock and again with- 
 out his breakfast Loder covered the distance between 
 Grosvenor Square and Clifford's Inn. He left Chilcote's 
 house hastily, with a haste that only an urgent motive 
 could have driven him to adopt; his steps were quick 
 and uneven as he traversed the intervening streets, his 
 shoulders lacked their decisive pose, and his pale face 
 was marked with shadows beneath the eyes shadows 
 that bore witness to the sleepless night spent in pacing 
 Chilcote's vast and lonely room. By the curious effect 
 of circumstances, the likeness between the two men had
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 203 
 
 never been more significantly marked than on that morn- 
 ing of April the nineteenth, when Loder walked along 
 the pavements crowded with early workers and brisk 
 with persistent news-vendors already alive to the value 
 of last night's political crisis. 
 
 The irony of this last element in the day's concerns 
 came to him fully when one newsboy, more insistent 
 than his fellows, thrust a paper in front of him. 
 
 " Sensation in the 'Ouse, sir ! Government defeat ! 
 Great speech by Mr. Chilcote ! " 
 
 For a moment Loder stopped, and his face reddened. 
 The tide of emotions still ran strong. His hand went 
 instinctively to his pocket; then his lips set. He shook 
 his head and walked on. 
 
 With the same hard expression about his mouth, he 
 turned into Clifford's Inn, passed through his own door- 
 way, and mounted the stairs. 
 
 This time there was no milk-can on the threshold of 
 his rooms, and the door yielded to his pressure without 
 the need of a key. With a strange sensation of reluc- 
 tance he walked into the narrow passage and paused, 
 uncertain which room to enter first. As he stood hesi- 
 tating, a voice from the sitting-room settled the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "Who's there?" it called irritably. "What do you 
 want?" 
 
 Without further ceremony Loder pushed the door open 
 and entered the room. As he did so, he drew a quick 
 breath. Whether he had hoped for or dreaded it, Chilcote 
 was in possession of his faculties. 
 
 As he entered, he was sitting by the cheerless grate, 
 the ashes of yesterday's fire showing charred and dreary 
 where the sun touched them. His back was to the 
 light, and about his shoulders was an old plaid rug of 
 Loder's. Behind him on the table stood a cup, a tea- 
 pot, and the can of milk; farther off, a kettle was set 
 to boil upon a tiny spirit-stove. 
 
 In all strong situations we are more or less common- 
 place. Loder's first remark as he glanced round the
 
 204 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 disordered room seemed strangely immaterial to the mo- 
 ment. 
 
 " Where's Robins? " he asked in a brusque voice. His 
 mind teemed with big considerations, yet this was his 
 first involuntary question. 
 
 Chilcote had started at the entrance of his visitor; 
 now he sat staring at him, his hands holding the arms 
 of his chair. 
 
 " Where's Robins ? " Loder asked again. 
 
 "I don't know. She I We didn't hit it off. 
 
 She's gone went yesterday." He shivered, and drew 
 the rug about him. 
 
 " Chilcote ! " Loder began sternly ; then he paused. 
 There was something in the other's look and attitude 
 that arrested him. A change of expression passed over 
 his face. He turned with an abrupt gesture, pulled off 
 his coat and threw it on a chair; then, crossing deliber- 
 ately to the fireplace, he began to rake the ashes from 
 the grate. 
 
 Within a few minutes he had a fire crackling where 
 the bed of dead cinders had been; and having finished 
 the task, he rose slowly from his knees, wiped his hands, 
 and crossed to the table. On the small spirit-stove the 
 kettle had boiled, and the cover was lifting and falling 
 with a tinkling sound. Blowing out the flame, he picked 
 up the teapot, and with hands that were evidently ac- 
 customed to the task, set about making tea. 
 
 During the whole operation he never spoke, though 
 all the while he was fully conscious of Chilcote's puzzled 
 gaze. The tea ready, he poured it into the cup and 
 carried it across the room. 
 
 " Drink this ! " he said laconically. " The fire will be 
 up presently." 
 
 Chilcote extended a cold and shaky hand. " You see 
 " he began. 
 
 But Loder checked him almost savagely. " I do 
 as well as though I had followed you from Piccadilly 
 last night. You've been hanging about, God knows where, 
 till th small hours of the morning; then you've come 
 back- slunk back starving for your damned poison ancj
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 205 
 
 shivering with cold. You've settled the first part of the 
 business but the cold has still to be reckoned with. 
 Drink the tea. I've something to say to you." He mas- 
 tered his vehemence, and walking to the window, stood 
 looking down into the court. His eyes were blank, his 
 face hard, his ears heard nothing but the faint sound of 
 Chilcote's swallowing, and the click of the cup against 
 his teeth. 
 
 For a time that seemed interminable he stood motion- 
 less; then, when he judged the tea finished, he turned 
 slowly. Chilcote had drawn closer to the fire. He was 
 obviously braced by the warmth ; and the apathy that 
 hung about him was to some extent dispelled. Still 
 moving slowly, Loder went towards him, and relieving 
 him of the empty cup, stood looking down at him. 
 
 " Chilcote," he said very quietly, " I've come to tell 
 you that the thing must end." 
 
 After he spoke there was a prolonged pause ; then, as 
 if shaken into sudden consciousness, Chilcote rose. The 
 rug dropped from one shoulder and hung down ludi- 
 crously; his hand caught the back of his chair for sup- 
 port ; his unshaven face looked absurd and repulsive in 
 its sudden expression of scared inquiry. Loder involun- 
 tarily turned away. 
 
 " I mean it," he said slowly. " It's over. We've come 
 to the end." 
 
 "But why?" Chilcote articulated blankly. "Why? 
 Why ? " In his confusion he could think of no better 
 word. 
 
 " Because I throw it up. My side of the bargain's 
 off!" 
 
 Again Chilcote's lips parted stammeringly. The apathy 
 caused by physical exhaustion and his recently adminis- 
 tered drug was passing from him; the hopelessly shat- 
 tered condition of mind and body was showing through 
 it, like a skeleton through a thin covering of flesh. 
 
 "But why?" he stammered again. "Why?" 
 
 Still Loder avoided the frightened surprise of his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Because I withdraw," he answered doggedly.
 
 SJU6 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Then suddenly Chilcote's tongue was loosened. " Lod- 
 er ! " he cried excitedly, " you can't do it ! God ! man 
 you can't do it ! " Then, to reassure himself, he laughed 
 a painfully thin echo of his old sarcastic laugh. " If 
 
 it's a matter of greater opportunity " he began, " of 
 
 more money " 
 
 But Loder turned upon him. 
 
 " Be quiet ! " he said, so menacingly that the other 
 stopped. 
 
 " It's not a matter of money, Chilcote," he went on 
 more quietly ; " it's a matter of necessity." He brought 
 the word out with difficulty. 
 
 Chilcote glanced up. " Necessity?" he said. "How? 
 Why?" 
 
 The reiteration roused Loder. 
 
 " Because there was a scene in the House last night," 
 he began hurriedly ; " because when you go back you'll 
 find that Sefborough has smashed up over the assassina- 
 tion of Sir William Brice-Field at Meshed, and that you 
 
 have made your mark in a big speech ; and because " 
 
 Abruptly he stopped. The thing he had meant to say 
 would not be said. Either his tongue or his resolution 
 failed him, and for the instant he stood as silent and 
 almost as ill at ease as his companion. 
 
 " Because, Chilcote " he began again lamely. Then 
 
 all at once inspiration came to him in the suggestion of 
 a wellnigh forgotten argument by which he might in- 
 fluence the other and save his own self-respect. 
 
 " It's all over, Chilcote," he said more quietly ; " it 
 has run itself out." And in a dozen sentences he sketched 
 the story of Lillian Astrupp, her past relations with 
 himself her present suspicions. It was not what he 
 had meant to say; it was not what he had come to say; 
 but it served the purpose it saved him humiliation. 
 
 Chilcote listened to the last word; and, as Loder fin- 
 ished, he dropped nervously back into his chair. 
 
 " Good heavens, man ! " he cried. " Why didn't you 
 tell me? Why didn't you warn me, instead of filling 
 my mind with your political position? Your political
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 20? 
 
 position ! " He laughed unsteadily. The long spells of 
 indulgence that had weakened his already maimed fac- 
 ulties showed in the laugh, in the sudden breaking of 
 his voice. 
 
 " You must do something, Loder ! " he added, nervous- 
 ly checking his amusement, " you must do something ! " 
 
 But Loder looked down at him. " No," he said de- 
 cisively ; " it's your turn now. It's you who've got to do 
 something." 
 
 Chilcote's face turned a shade grayer. " I can't," he 
 said below his breath. 
 
 " Can't ? Oh yes, you can ! We can all do anything. 
 It's not too late; there's just sufficient time. Chilcote," 
 he exclaimed suddenly, " don't you see that the thing 
 has been madness all along has been like playing with 
 the most infernal explosives? You may thank whatever 
 you have faith in that nobody has got smashed up ! You 
 are going back. Do you understand me ? You are going 
 back now to-day before it's too late." There was a 
 great change in Loder; his strong imperturbable face 
 was stirred ; he was moved both in voice and manner. 
 Time after time he repeated his injunction reasoning 
 expostulating insisting. It almost seemed that he 
 fought some strenuous invisible force rather than the 
 shattered man before him. 
 
 " You are to go back," he said once more. 
 
 Chilcote moved nervously in his seat. It was the first 
 real clash of personalities. He felt it recognized it by 
 instinct. The sense of domination had fallen on him; 
 he knew himself impotent in the other's hands. What- 
 ever he might attempt in moments of solitude, he pos- 
 sessed no voice in presence of this invincible second self. 
 For a while he struggled. He did not fight, he struggled 
 to resist; then lifting his eyes, his glance met Loder's. 
 
 " And you? " he said weakly. " What will you do? " 
 
 Loder returned the questioning gaze; then he turned 
 aside. 
 
 " I ? " he said. " Oh, I shall leave town ! "
 
 208 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 But Loder did not leave London ; and the hour of two 
 on the day following his dismissal of Chilcote found him 
 again in his sitting-room. 
 
 He sat at the center table, surrounded by a cloud of 
 smoke. A pipe was between his lips, and the morning's 
 newspapers lay in a heap beside him. To the student of 
 humanity his attitude was intensely interesting. It was 
 the attitude of a man trammeled by the knowledge of 
 his strength. Before him, as he sat smoking, stretched 
 a future of absolute nothingness ; and towards this blank 
 future one portion of his consciousness a struggling 
 and as yet scarcely sentient portion pushed him inevit- 
 ably; while another a vigorous, persistent, human por- 
 tion cried to him to pause. So actual, so clamorous 
 was this mental combat that had raged unceasingly since 
 the moment of his renunciation, that at last, in physical 
 response to it, he rose and pushed back his chair. 
 
 " It's too late ! " he said aloud. " I'm a fool. It's too 
 late!" 
 
 Then abruptly, astonishingly as though in direct re- 
 sponse to his spoken thought the door opened, and Chil- 
 cote walked into the room. 
 
 For a moment Loder stared at him. The feeling he 
 acknowledged to himself was anger ; but, below the anger, 
 a very different sensation ran riotously strong. And it 
 was in time to this second feeling this sudden lawless 
 joy that his pulses beat as he turned a cold face on the 
 intruder. 
 
 " Well ? " he said sternly. 
 
 But Chilcote was impervious to sternness. He was 
 mentally shaken and distressed, though outwardly irre- 
 proachable, even to the violets in the lapel of his coat 
 violets that for a week past had been brought each morn- 
 ing to the door of Loder's room by Eve's maid, and 
 scrupulously fastened into his coat by Renwick. For 
 one second, as his eyes rested on the flowers, a sting of 
 ungovernable jealousy shot through Loder; but as sud- 
 denly it died away, superseded by another feeling a
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 209 
 
 feeling of new, spontaneous joy. Worn by Chilcote 
 or by himself the flowers were a symbol ! 
 
 " Well ? " he said again, in a gentler voice. 
 
 Chilcote had walked to the table and laid down his 
 hat. His face was white, and the muscles of his lips 
 twitched nervously as he drew off his gloves. 
 
 " Thank Heaven you're here ! " he said shortly. " Give 
 me something to drink." 
 
 In silence Loder brought out the whisky and set it on 
 the table; then instinctively he turned aside. As plainly 
 as though he saw it, he mentally figured Chilcote's fur- 
 tive glance, the furtive movement of his fingers to his 
 waistcoat pocket, the hasty dropping of the tabloids into 
 the glass. For an instant the sense of his tacit con- 
 nivance came to him sharply ; the next, he flung it from 
 him. The human, inner voice was whispering its old 
 watchword, " The strong man has no time to waste over 
 his weaker brother ! " 
 
 When he heard Chilcote lay down the tumbler he 
 looked back again. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " he said. " What have you come 
 for ? " He strove resolutely to keep his voice severe ; but 
 try as he might, he could not quite subdue the eager 
 force that lay behind his words. Once again, as on 
 the night of their second interchange, life had become a 
 phoenix, rising to fresh existence even while he sifted its 
 ashes. 
 
 " Well ? " he said once again. 
 
 Chilcote had set down his glass, and was nervously 
 passing his handkerchief across his lips. There was 
 something in the gesture that attracted Loder. Looking 
 at him more attentively, he saw what his own feeling and 
 the other's conventional dress had blinded him to the 
 almost piteous panic and excitement in Chilcote's eyes. 
 
 " Something's gone wrong ! " he said with abrupt intui- 
 tion. 
 
 Chilcote started, dropping his handkerchief. "Yes 
 no. That is, yes," he stammered as he stooped to pick, 
 it up. 
 
 Loder moved around the table,
 
 210 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Something's gone wrong," he repeated. " And you've 
 come to tell me." 
 
 The tone unnerved Chilcote; he suddenly sank into a 
 chair. 
 
 " It it wasn't my fault," he began. " I I have had 
 a horrible time ! " 
 
 Loder's lips tightened. " Yes," he said, " yes I un- 
 derstand." 
 
 The other glanced up with a gleam of his old sus- 
 picion. ' 'Twas all my nerves, Loder " 
 
 " Of course. Of course." Loder's interruption was 
 curt. 
 
 Chilcote eyed him doubtfully. Then recollection took 
 the place of doubt, and a change passed over his expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " It wasn't my fault," he began afresh. " On my soul, 
 it wasn't! It was Crapham's beastly fault for showing 
 her into the morning-room " 
 
 Loder kept silence. His curiosity had flared into life 
 at the other's words, but he feared to break the shattered 
 train of thought even by a breath. 
 
 In the silence, Chilcote moved uneasily. " You see," 
 he went on, " when I was here with you, I I felt strong. 
 I I " he stopped. 
 
 " Yes, yes. When you were here with me you felt 
 strong." 
 
 " Yes ; that's it. While I was here I felt I could do the 
 thing. But when I got home when I went up to my 
 
 rooms " Again he paused passing his handkerchief 
 
 across his forehead. 
 
 " When you went to your rooms ? " Loder strove hard 
 to keep his control. 
 
 " To my rooms ? Oh, I I forget about that. I for- 
 get about the night . All I remember is the coming 
 
 down to breakfast next morning this morning at 
 twelve o'clock " 
 
 Loder turned to the table and poured himself out some 
 whisky. " Yes," he acquiesced, in a very quiet voice. 
 
 At the word Chilcote rose from tys seat, JJjs disquie- 
 tude was very evident-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 211 
 
 " Oh, there was breakfast on the table when I came 
 downstairs breakfast with flowers and a horrible daz- 
 zling glare of sun. It was then, Loder as I stood and 
 looked into the room that the impossibility of it all 
 came to me; that I knew I couldn't stand it couldn't 
 go on." 
 
 Loder swallowed his whisky slowly. His sense of 
 overpowering curiosity still mastered him; but he made 
 no effort to prompt his companion. 
 
 Again Chilcote shifted his position. 
 
 " It had to be done," he said disjointedly. " I had to 
 do it then and there. The things were on the bureau 
 the pens and ink and telegraph forms. And they 
 tempted me." 
 
 Loder laid down his glass suddenly. An exclamation 
 rose to his lips, but he checked it. 
 
 At the slight sound of the tumbler touching the table 
 Chilcote turned; but there was no expression on the 
 other's face to affright him. 
 
 " They tempted me," he repeated hastily. " They 
 seemed like magnets they seemed to draw me towards 
 them. I sat at the bureau staring at them for a long 
 time; then a terrible compulsion seized me something 
 you could never understand and I caught up the near- 
 est pen and wrote just what was in my mind. It wasn't 
 a telegram, properly speaking it was more a letter. I 
 wanted you back, and I had to make myself plain. The 
 writing of the message seemed to steady me; the mere 
 forming of the words quieted the panic. I was almost 
 cool when I got up from the bureau and pressed the 
 bell " 
 
 "The bell?" 
 
 " Yes. I rang for a servant. I had to send the wire 
 myself, so I had to get a cab." His voice rose to irri- 
 tability. 
 
 " I pressed the bell several times, but the thing had 
 gone wrong 'twouldn't work. At last I gave it up and 
 went out into the corridor to call some one." 
 
 " Well ? " In the intense suspense of the moment the 
 word escaped Loder.
 
 212 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 " Oh, I went out of the room ; but there, at the door, 
 before I could call anybody, I knocked up against that 
 idiot Greening. He was looking for me for you rather 
 about some beastly Wark affair. I tried to explain 
 that I wasn't in a state for business ; I tried to shake him 
 off, but he was worse than Blessington ! At last, to be 
 rid of the fellow, I went with him to the study ' 
 
 " But the telegram ? " Loder began ; then again he 
 checked himself. " Yes yes I understand," he sub- 
 stituted quietly. 
 
 " I'm getting to the telegram ! I wish you wouldn't 
 jar me with sudden questions. I wasn't in the study 
 
 more than a minute more than five or six minutes " 
 
 His voice became confused ; the strain of the connected 
 recital was telling upon him. With nervous haste he 
 made a rush for the end of his story. 
 
 " I wasn't more than seven or eight minutes in the 
 study ; but as I came downstairs, Crapham met me in 
 the hall. He told me that Lillian Astrupp had called 
 and wished to see me, and that he had shown her into 
 the morning-room " 
 
 " The morning-room ? " Loder suddenly stepped back 
 from the table. " The morning-room ? With your tele- 
 gram lying on the bureau?" 
 
 His sudden speech and movement startled Chilcote. 
 The blood rushed to his face, then died out, leaving it 
 ashen. 
 
 " Don't do that, Loder ! " he cried. 
 
 With an immense effort Loder controlled himself. 
 "Sorry!" he said. "Goon!" 
 
 " I'm going on ! I tell you I'm going on, if you give 
 me time ! I got a horrid shock when Crapham told me. 
 Your story came clattering through my mind. I knew 
 Lillian had come to see you I knew there was going to 
 be a scene " 
 
 "But the telegram? The telegram?" 
 
 Chilcote paid no heed to the interruption. He was 
 following his own train of ideas. " I knew she had come 
 to see you I knew there was going to be a scene. When 
 I got to the morning-room my hand was shaking so that
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 213 
 
 I could scarcely turn the handle ; then, as the door opened, 
 I could have cried out with relief. Eve was there as 
 well!" 
 
 "Eve?" 
 
 " Yes. I don't think I was ever so glad to see her in 
 my life." He laughed almost hysterically. " I was quite 
 
 civil to her, and she was quite sweet to me " Again 
 
 he laughed. 
 
 Loder's lips tightened. 
 
 " You see it saved the situation. Even if Lillian wanted 
 to be nasty she couldn't, while Eve was there. We talked 
 for about ten minutes. We were quite an amiable trio. 
 Then Lillian told me why she'd called. She wanted me 
 to make a fourth in a theatre party at the ' Arcadian ' 
 to-night, and I I was so pleased and so relieved that I 
 said yes." 
 
 In his tense anxiety Loder ground his heel into the 
 floor. " Go on ! " he said fiercely. " Go on ! " 
 
 " Don't ! " Chilcote exclaimed again. " I'm going on 
 I'm going on." He passed his handkerchief across his 
 lips. " We talked for ten minutes or so, and then Lillian 
 left. I went with her to the hall-door, but Crapham was 
 there too so I was safe. She laughed and chatted and 
 seemed in high spirits as we crossed the hall, and she 
 was still smiling as she waved to me from her motor. 
 But then, Loder then, as I stood in the hall, it all came 
 back to me suddenly. I remembered that Lillian must 
 have been alone in the morning-room before Eve found 
 her ! I remembered the telegram ! 
 
 " I ran back to the room, meaning to question Eve as 
 to how long Lillian had been alone, but she was gone, 
 and the room was empty. I ran to the bureau but 
 the telegram wasn't there ! " 
 
 "Gone?" 
 
 " Yes ; gone. That's why I've come straight here." 
 
 For a moment they confronted each other. Then, 
 moved by a sudden impulse, Loder pushed Chilcote aside 
 and crossed the room. An instant later the opening and 
 shutting of doors, the hasty pulling out of drawers and 
 moving of boxes, came from the bedroom.
 
 214 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 Chilcote, shaken and nervous, stood for a minute where 
 his companion had left him. At last, impelled by curi- 
 osity and fear, he too crossed the narrow passage and 
 entered the second room. 
 
 The full light streamed in through the open window; 
 the keen spring air blew freshly across the house-tops, 
 and on the windowsill a band of grimy, joyous sparrows 
 twittered and preened themselves. In the middle of the 
 room stood Loder. His coat was off, and round about 
 him on chairs and floor lay an array of waistcoats, gloves, 
 and ties. 
 
 For a space Chilcote stood in the doorway staring at 
 him; then his lips parted and he took a step forward. 
 
 " Loder " he said anxiously. " Loder, what are 
 
 you going to do ? " 
 
 Loder turned. His shoulders were stiff, his face alight 
 with energy. 
 
 " I'm going back," he said, " to unravel the tangle you 
 have made ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Loder's plan of action was arrived at before he reached 
 Trafalgar Square. The facts of the case were simple. 
 Chilcote had left an incriminating telegram on the bureau 
 in the morning-room at Grosvenor Square ; by an un- 
 lucky chance Lillian Astrupp had been shown into that 
 room, where she had remained alone until the moment 
 that Eve, either by request or accident, had found her 
 there. The facts resolved themselves into one question 
 What use had Lillian made of those solitary moments ? 
 Without deviation, Loder's mind turned towards one an- 
 swer. Lillian was not the woman to lose an opportun- 
 ity, whether the space at her command was long or short. 
 True, Eve too had been alone in the room while Chil- 
 cote had accompanied Lillian to the door but of this he 
 made small account. Eve had been there, but Lillian had 
 been there first. Judging by precedent, by personal char- 
 acter, by all human probability, it was not to be supposed
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 215 
 
 that anything would have been left for the second comer. 
 
 So convinced was he of this that, reaching Trafalgar 
 Square, he stopped and hailed a hansom. 
 
 "Cadogan Gardens!" he called, "No. 33." 
 
 The moments seemed very few before the cab drew 
 up beside the curb, and he caught his second glimpse 
 of the enameled door with its silver fittings. The white 
 and silver gleamed in the sunshine; banks of cream- 
 colored hyacinths were clustered on the window-sills, 
 filling the clear air with a warm and fragrant scent. 
 With that strange sensation of having lived through the 
 scene before, Loder left the cab and walked up the steps. 
 Instantly he pressed the bell, the door was opened by 
 Lillian's discreet, deferential man-servant. 
 
 " Is Lady Astrupp at home ? " he asked. 
 
 The man looked thoughtful. " Her ladyship lunched 
 at home, sir " he began cautiously. 
 
 But Loder interrupted him. " Ask her to see me," he 
 said laconically. 
 
 The servant expressed no surprise. His only com- 
 ment was to throw the door wide. 
 
 " If you'll wait in the white room, sir," he said, " I'll 
 inform her ladyship." Chilcote was evidently a frequent 
 and a favored visitor. 
 
 In this manner Loder for the second time entered 
 the house that was so unfamiliar and yet so familiar 
 in all that it suggested. Entering the drawing-room, he 
 had leisure to look about him. It was a beautiful room, 
 large and lofty ; luxury was evident on every hand, but 
 it was not the luxury that palls or offends. Each object 
 was graceful, and possessed its own intrinsic value. The 
 atmosphere was too effeminate to appeal to him, but he 
 acknowledged the taste and artistic delicacy it conveyed. 
 At the moment that he made the acknowledgment, the 
 door opened to admit Lillian. 
 
 She wore the same gown of pale-colored cloth, 
 warmed and softened by rich furs, that she had worn 
 on the day she and Chilcote had driven in the Park. 
 $he was drawing on her gloves as she came ipto the
 
 216 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 room; and pausing near the door, she looked across at 
 Loder and laughed in her slow, amused way. 
 
 " I thought it would be you ! " she said enigmatically. 
 
 Loder came forward. 
 
 " You expected me ? " he said guardedly. A sudden 
 conviction filled him that it was not the evidence of her 
 eyes, but something at once subtler and more definite, 
 that prompted her recognition of him. 
 
 She smiled. "Why should I expect you? On the 
 contrary, I'm waiting to know why you're here ? " 
 
 He was silent for an instant ; then he answered in 
 her own light tone. 
 
 " As far as that goes, let's make it my duty call hav- 
 ing dined with you. I'm an old-fashioned person." 
 
 For a full second she surveyed him amusedly; then 
 she spoke. 
 
 " My dear Jack," she laid particular stress on the 
 name, " I never imagined you punctilious. I should have 
 thought bohemian would have been more the word." 
 
 Loder felt disconcerted and annoyed. Either, like 
 himself, she was fishing for information or she was de- 
 liberately playing with him. In his perplexity, he glanced 
 across the room towards the fireplace. 
 
 Lillian saw the look. " Won't you sit down ? " she 
 said, indicating the couch. " I promise not make you 
 smoke. I shan't even ask you to take off your gloves ! " 
 
 Loder made no movement. His mind was unpleasantly 
 upset. It was nearly a fortnight since he had seen Lil- 
 lian, and in the interval her attitude had changed, and 
 the change puzzled him. It might mean the philosophy 
 of a woman who knowing herself without adequate 
 weapons withdraws from a combat that has proved fruit- 
 less; or it might imply the merely catlike desire to toy 
 with a certainty. He looked quickly at the delicate face, 
 the green eyes somewhat obliquely set, the unreliable 
 mouth, and instantly he inclined to the latter theory. 
 The conviction that she possessed the telegram filled him 
 suddenly; and with it. came the desire to put his belief 
 to the test to know beyond question whether her smil- 
 ing unconcern meant malice or entertainment.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 217 
 
 " When you first came into the room," he said quietly, 
 " you said ' I thought it would be you ! ' Why did you 
 say that ? " 
 
 Again she smiled the smile that might be malicious 
 or might be merely amused. 
 
 " Oh," she answered, " I only meant that, though I 
 had been told Jack Chilcote wanted me 9 it wasn't Jack 
 Chilcote I expected to see ! " 
 
 After her statement there was a pause. Loder's posi- 
 tion was difficult. Instinctively convinced that, strong in 
 the possession of her proof, she was enjoying his tan- 
 talized discomfort, he yet craved the actual evidence that 
 should set his suspicions to rest. Acting upon the de- 
 sire, he made a new beginning. 
 
 " Do you know why I came ? " he asked. 
 
 Lillian looked up innocently. " It's so hard to be cer- 
 tain of anything in this world," she said. " But one is 
 always at liberty to guess." 
 
 Again he was perplexed. Her attitude was not quite 
 
 the attitude of one who controls the game, and yet 
 
 He looked at her with a puzzled scrutiny. Women for 
 him had always spelt the incomprehensible; he was at 
 his best, his strongest, his surest in the presence of men. 
 Feeling his disadvantage, yet determined to gain his end, 
 he made a last attempt. 
 
 " How did you amuse yourself at Grosvenor Square 
 this morning, before Eve came to you ? " he asked. The 
 effort was awkwardly blunt, but it was direct. 
 
 Lillian was buttoning her glove. She did not raise 
 her head as he spoke, but her fingers paused in their 
 task. For a second she remained motionless, then she 
 looked up slowly. 
 
 " Oh," she said sweetly, " so I was right in my guess! 
 You did come to find out whether I sat in the morning- 
 room with my hands in my lap or wandered about in 
 search of entertainment?" 
 
 Loder colored with annoyance and apprehension. 
 Every look, every tone of Lillian's was distasteful to 
 him. No microscope could have revealed her more fully 
 to him than did his own eyesight. But it was not the
 
 218 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 moment for personal antipathies; there were other inter- 
 ests than his own at stake. With new resolution he re- 
 turned her glance. 
 
 " Then I must still ask my first question, Why did 
 you say ' I thought it would be you ' ? " His gaze was 
 direct so direct that it disconcerted her. She laughed 
 a little uneasily. 
 
 " Because I knew." 
 
 " How did you know ? " 
 
 " Because " she began ; then again she laughed. 
 
 " Because," she added quickly, as if moved by a fresh 
 impulse, " Jack Chilcote made it very obvious to any 
 one who was in his morning-room at twelve o'clock to- 
 day, that it would be you and not he who would be 
 found filling his place this afternoon ! It's all very well 
 to talk about honor ; but when one walks into an empty 
 room and sees a telegram as long as a letter open on a 
 bureau " 
 
 But her sentence was never finished. Loder had heard 
 what he came to hear ; any confession she might have to 
 offer was of no moment in his eyes. 
 
 " My dear girl," he broke in brusquely, " don't trou- 
 ble ! I should make a most unsatisfactory father confes- 
 sor." He spoke quickly; his color was still high, but 
 not with annoyance ; his suspense was transformed into 
 unpleasant certainty, but the exchange left him surer of 
 himself. His perplexity had dropped to a quiet sense of 
 self-reliance ; his paramount desire was for solitude, in 
 which to prepare for the task that lay before him the 
 most congenial task the world possessed the unravelling 
 of Chilcote's tangled skeins. Looking into Lillian's eyes 
 he smiled. 
 
 " Good-bye ! " he said, holding out his hand. " I think 
 we've finished for to-day." 
 
 She slowly extended her fingers. Her expression and 
 attitude were slightly puzzled a puzzlement that was 
 either spontaneous or singularly well assumed. As their 
 hands touched, she smiled again. 
 
 " Will you drop in at the ' Arcadian ' to-night ? " she 
 said. " It's the dramatized version of ' Other Men's
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 219 
 
 Shoes ' ! The temptation to make you see it was too 
 irresistible as you know." 
 
 There was a pause while she waited for his answer 
 her head inclined to one side, her green eyes gleam- 
 ing. 
 
 Loder, conscious of her regard, hesitated for a mo- 
 ment. Then his face cleared. " Right ! " he said slow- 
 ly. "The 'Arcadian' tonight!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Loder's frame of mind as he left Cadogan Gardens 
 was peculiar. Once more he was living in the present 
 the forceful, exhilarating present and the knowledge 
 braced him. Upon one point his mind was satisfied. 
 Lillian Astrupp had found the telegram, and it remained 
 to him to render her find valueless. How he proposed 
 to do this, how he proposed to come out triumphant in 
 face of such a situation, was a matter that as yet was 
 shapeless in his mind ; nevertheless, the danger, the sense 
 of impending conflict, had a savor of life after the inac- 
 tion of the day and night just passed. Chilcote, in his 
 weakness and his entanglement, had turned to him, and 
 he, in his strength and capacity, had responded to the 
 appeal. 
 
 His step was firm and his bearing assured as he 
 turned into Grosvenor Square and walked towards the 
 familiar house. 
 
 The habit of self-deceit is as insidious and tenacious 
 as any vice. For one moment on the night of his great 
 speech, as he leant out of Chilcote's carriage and met 
 Chilcote's eyes, Loder had seen himself; and under the 
 shock of revelation had taken decisive action. But in 
 the hours subsequent to that action the plausible inner 
 voice had whispered unceasingly soothing his wounded 
 self-esteem, rebuilding, stone by stone, the temple of his 
 egotism until at last when Chilcote, panic-stricken at 
 his own action, had burst into his rooms, ready to plea4
 
 220 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 or to coerce, he had found no need for either coercion 
 or entreaty. By a power more subtle and effective than 
 any at his command, Loder had been prepared for his 
 coming unconsciously ready with an acquiescence before 
 his appeal had been made. It was the fruit of this prep- 
 aration, the inevitable outcome of it, that strengthened his 
 step and steadied his hand, as he mounted the steps and 
 opened the hall-door of Chilcote's house on that eventful 
 afternoon. 
 
 The dignity, the air of quiet solidity, impressed him, 
 as it never failed to do, as he crossed the large hall and 
 ascended the stairs the same stairs that he had descend- 
 ed almost as an outcast not so many hours before. He 
 was rilled with the sense of things regained ; belief in his 
 own star lifted him, as it had done a hundred times be- 
 fore in the same surroundings. 
 
 He quickened his steps as the sensation came to him. 
 Reaching the head of the stairs, he turned directly to- 
 wards Eve's sitting-room and, gaining the door, knocked. 
 The strength of his eagerness, the quick beating of his 
 pulses as he waited for a response, surprised him. He 
 had told himself many times that his passion, however 
 strong, would never again conquer as it had done two 
 nights ago. And the fact that he had come thus can- 
 didly to Eve's room was, to his mind, a proof that temp- 
 tation could be dared. Nevertheless there was some- 
 thing disconcerting to a strong man in this merely physi- 
 cal perturbation ; and when Eve's voice came to him at 
 last, giving permission to enter, he paused for an instant 
 to steady himself. Finally, with sudden decision, he 
 opened the door and walked into the room. 
 
 The blinds were partly drawn; there was a scent of 
 violets in the air, and a fire glowed warmly in the grate. 
 He noted these things carefully, telling himself that a 
 man should always be alertly sensible of his surround- 
 ings; then all at once the nice balancing of detail sud- 
 denly gave way: he forgot everything but the one cir- 
 cumstance that Eve was standing in the window her 
 back to the light, her face towards him. With his pulses
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 221 
 
 beating fast and an unsteady sensation in his brain, he 
 moved forward, holding out his hand. 
 
 " Eve " he said below his breath. 
 
 But Eve remained motionless. As he came into the 
 room she had glanced at him a glance of quick, search- 
 ing question then, with equal suddenness, she had 
 averted her eyes. As he drew close to her now she re- 
 mained immovable. 
 
 " Eve " he said again. " I wanted to see you I 
 
 wanted to explain about yesterday and about this morn- 
 ing " He paused, suddenly disturbed. The full re- 
 membrance of the scene in the brougham had surged up 
 at sight of her had risen a fierce, unquenchable recol- 
 lection. 
 
 " Eve " he began again, in a new, abrupt tone. 
 
 But it was then that Eve showed herself in a fresh 
 light. From the moment of his entrance into the room 
 she had stayed motionless, save for her first glance of 
 acute inquiry; but now her demeanor changed. For 
 almost the first time in Loder's knowledge of her, the 
 vitality and force that he had vaguely apprehended 
 below her quiet serene exterior sprang up like a flame, 
 within whose radius all things are illuminated. With 
 a quick gesture she turned towards him, her warm color 
 deepening, her eyes suddenly alight. 
 
 " I understand," she said, " I understand. Don't try 
 to explain ! Can't you see that it's enough to to see 
 you as you are ? " 
 
 Loder was surprised. Remembering their last pas- 
 sionate scene, and the damper Chilcote's subsequent 
 presence must inevitably have cast upon it, he had ex- 
 pected to be doubtfully received; but the reality of the 
 reception left him bewildered. Eve's manner was not 
 that of the ill-used wife, its vehemence, its note of de- 
 sire and depreciation, were more suggestive of his own 
 ardent seizing of the present, as distinguished from 
 past or future. With an odd sense of confusion he 
 turned to her afresh. 
 
 " Then I am forgiven ? " he said. And unconsciously, 
 as he moved nearer, he touched her arm.
 
 222 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 At his touch she started. All the yielding sweetness, 
 all the submission that had marked her two nights ago, 
 was gone, and in its place she was possessed by a curious 
 excitement that stirred while it perplexed. 
 
 Loder, moved by the sensation, took another step for- 
 ward. " Then I am forgiven ? " he repeated more 
 softly. 
 
 Her face was averted as he spoke, but he felt her arm 
 quiver ; and a moment later she lifted her head and their 
 eyes met. Neither spoke, but in an instant Loder's arms 
 were round her. 
 
 For a long silent space they stood holding each other 
 closely ; then, with a sharp movement, Eve freed her- 
 self. Her color was still high, her eyes still peculiarly 
 bright, but the bunch of violets she had worn in her belt 
 had fallen to the ground. 
 
 " John ! " she said quickly ; then her breath caught. 
 With a touch of nervousness she stooped to pick up the 
 flowers. 
 
 Loder noticed both voice and gesture. " What is it ? " 
 he said. " What were you going to say? " 
 
 But she made no answer. For a second longer she 
 searched for the violets; then as he bent to assist her, 
 she stood up quickly and laughed a short, embarrassed 
 laugh. 
 
 " How absurd and nervous I am ! " she exclaimed. 
 " Like a schoolgirl, instead of a woman of twenty-four ! 
 You must help me to be sensible." Her cheeks still 
 burned, her manner was still excited, like one who holds 
 an emotion or impulse at bay. 
 
 Loder looked at her uncertainly. 
 
 " Eve " he began again, with his odd, character- 
 istic perseverance; but she instantly checked him. There 
 was a finality, a faint suggestion of fear, in her protest. 
 
 " Don't ! "' she cried. " Don't ! I don't want explana- 
 tions. I want to to enjoy the moment, without hav- 
 ing things analyzed or smoothed away. Can't you un- 
 derstand? Can't you see that I'm wonderfully, terribly 
 happy to to have you as you are ! " Again her voice 
 broke a break that might have been a laugh or a sob.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 223 
 
 The sound was an emotional crisis, as such a sound 
 frequently is. It arrested and steadied her. For a mo- 
 ment she stood absolutely still; then with something 
 very closely resembling her old repose of manner she 
 stooped again and quietly picked up the flowers still ly- 
 ing at her feet. 
 
 " Now," she said quietly, " I must say what I've 
 wanted to say all along. How does it feel to be a great 
 man ? " Her manner was controlled ; she looked at him 
 evenly and directly; save for the faint vibration in her 
 voice, there was nothing to indicate the tumult of a 
 moment ago. 
 
 But Loder was still uncertain. Again he caught her 
 hand, his eyes searching hers. 
 
 " But Eve " he began. 
 
 Then Eve played the last card in her mysterious game. 
 Laughing quickly and nervously, she freed her hand 
 and laid it over his mouth. 
 
 " No ! " she said. " Not one word ! All this past fort- 
 night has belonged to you ; now it's my turn. To-day is 
 mine." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 And so once again the woman conquered. Whatever 
 Eve's intentions were, whatever she wished to evade 
 or ward off, she was successful in gaining her end. 
 For more than two hours she kept Loder at her side. 
 There may have been moments in those two hours when 
 the tension was high, when the efforts she made to 
 interest and hold him were somewhat strained. But if 
 this was so, it escaped the notice of the one person con- 
 cerned. For it was long after tea had been served 
 long after Eve had offered to do penance for her monop- 
 oly of him by driving him to Chilcote's club that Loder 
 realized with any degree of distinctness that it was she 
 and not he who had taken the lead in their interview; 
 that it was she and not he who had bridged the difficult 
 silences, and given a fresh direction to dangerous chan-
 
 224 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 nels of talk. It was long before he recognized this; 
 and it was still longer before he realized the far more 
 potent fact that, without any coldness, any lessening of 
 the subtle consideration she always showed him, she had 
 given him no further opportunity of making love. 
 
 Talking continuously, and elated with the sense of 
 conflict still to come, Loder drove with her to the club. 
 Considering that drive in the light of after-events, his 
 own frame of mind invariably filled him with incredul- 
 ity. In the eyes of any sane man his position was not 
 worth an hour's purchase; yet in the blind self-confi- 
 dence of the moment he would not have changed places 
 with Fraide himself. The great song of Self was sound- 
 ing in his ears as he drove through the crowded streets, 
 conscious of the cool crisp air; of Eve's close presence; 
 of the numberless infinitesimal things that went to make 
 up the value of life. It was this acknowledgment of 
 personality that upheld him. The personality that had 
 carried him unswervingly through eleven colorless years 
 that had impelled him towards this new career that 
 had hewn a way for him in this fresh existence against 
 colossal odds; the personality that had trampled out 
 Chilcote's footmarks in public life, in private life in 
 love. It was a triumphant psean that clamored in his 
 ears something persistent and prophetic, with an un- 
 dernote of menace the cry of the human soul that has 
 dared to stand alone. 
 
 His glance was keen and bright as he stood for a 
 moment at the carriage-door and took Eve's hand before 
 entering the club. 
 
 "You're dining out to-night?" he said. His fingers 
 always tenacious and masterful, held hers firmly. The 
 compunction that had driven him temporarily towards 
 sacrifice had passed ; his pride, his confidence, and with 
 them his desire, had flowed back in full measure. 
 
 Eve, watching him attentively, paled a little. 
 
 "Yes," she said; "I'm dining with the Bramfells." 
 
 "What time will you get home?" He scarcely real- 
 ized why he put the question. The song of Self still
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 225 
 
 sounded triumphantly, and he responded to it without 
 reflection. 
 
 His eyes held hers, his fingers pressed her hand; the 
 intense mastery of his will passed through her in a sud- 
 den sense of fear. Her lips parted in deprecation, then 
 closely irresolutely. 
 
 " When can I see you ? " he asked very quietly. 
 
 Again she was about to speak. She leant forward, 
 as if some thought, long suppressed, trembled on her 
 lips ; but once more her courage or her desire failed her. 
 She dropped back into her seat, letting her lashes droop 
 over her eyes. 
 
 " I shall be home at eleven," she said below her 
 breath. 
 
 Loder dined with Lakeley at Chilcote's club; and so 
 absorbing were the political interests of the hour the 
 resignation of Sir Robert Sefborough; the King's sum- 
 mons to Fraide; the probable features of the new Min- 
 istry, that it was after nine o'clock when he freed him- 
 self and drove to the " Arcadian " Theatre. 
 
 The manner of his leaving the club was hurried; and 
 once at liberty to carry out his enterprise, he was filled 
 with a desire for speed. He made no statement of the 
 fact to himself, he gave no outward evidence of it, but 
 there was a controlled haste in all his actions. Fate and 
 he were playing for high stakes, and he was possessed 
 with the true gambler's ambition to play rapidly, read- 
 ily, and coolly. When the last card was thrown down 
 he might rise from the game beggared; but while the 
 final round was still to be played, he refused to look 
 ahead. 
 
 The sound of music came to him as he entered the 
 theatre light, measured music suggestive of tiny 
 streams, toy lambs and painted shepherdesses. It 
 sounded singularly inappropriate to his mood, as in- 
 appropriate as the theatre itself with its gay gilding, 
 and its pale-toned draperies of pink and blue. It was 
 the setting of a different world, a world of laughter,
 
 226 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 light thoughts, and shallow impulses, in which he had no 
 part. He halted for an instant outside the box to which 
 the attendant had shown him ; then, as the door was 
 thrown open, he straightened himself resolutely and 
 stepped forward. 
 
 It was the interval between the first and second acts. 
 The box was in shadow, and Loder's first impression 
 was of voices and rustling skirts, broken by the murmur 
 of frequent, amused laughter; later, as his eyes grew 
 accustomed to the light, he distinguished the occupants 
 two women and a man. The man was speaking as 
 he entered, and the story he was relating was evidently 
 interesting, from the faint exclamations of question and 
 delight that punctuated it in the listeners' higher, softer 
 voices. As Loder stepped forward they all three turned 
 and looked at him. 
 
 " Ah, here comes the legislator ! " exclaimed Leonard 
 Kaine. For it was he who formed the male element in 
 the party. 
 
 " The revolutionary, Lennie ! " Lillian corrected 
 softly. " Bramfell says he has changed the whole face 
 
 of things " She laughed softly and meaningly as 
 
 she closed her fan. 
 
 " So good of you to come, Jack ! " she added. " Let 
 me introduce you to Miss Esseltyn; I don't think you 
 two have met. This is Mr. Chilcote, Mary ! The great, 
 new Mr. Chilcote ! " Again she laughed. 
 
 Loder moved to the front of the box. 
 
 " It's only for an hour," he explained. " I have an 
 appointment for eleven." Then he bowed to the third 
 occupant of the box a remarkably young and well- 
 dressed girl, with wide-awake eyes and a retrousse 
 nose. 
 
 " Only an hour ! Oh, how unkind ! How should I 
 punish him, Lennie?" Lillian looked round at Kaine 
 with a lingering, almost caressing glance. 
 
 He bent towards her in quick response, and answered 
 in a whisper. 
 
 She laughed, and replied in an equally low tone. 
 
 Loder, to whom both remarks had been inaudible,
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 227 
 
 dropped into the vacant seat beside Mary Esseltyn. He 
 had the unsettled feeling that things were not falling 
 out exactly as he had calculated. 
 
 " What is the play like ? " he hazarded, as he looked 
 towards his companion. At all times social trivialties 
 bored him; to-night they were intolerable. He had 
 come to fight, but all at once it seemed that there was 
 no opponent. Lillian's attitude disturbed him ; her 
 careless graciousness, her evident ignoring of him for 
 Kaine, might mean nothing but might mean much. 
 
 So he speculated, as he put his question and spurred 
 his attention towards the girl's answer; but with the 
 speculation came the resolve to hold his own, to meet 
 his enemy upon whatever ground she chose to appropri- 
 ate. 
 
 The girl looked at him with interest. 
 
 " It is a good play," she responded. " I like it better 
 than the book. You've read the book, of course?" 
 
 " No." Loder tried hard to fix his thoughts. 
 
 " It's amusing but far-fetched." 
 
 " Indeed ? " He picked up the programme lying on 
 the edge of the box. His ears were strained to catch 
 the tone of Lillian's voice as she laughed and whispered 
 with Kaine. 
 
 " Yes ; men exchanging identities, you know." 
 
 He looked up and caught the girl's self-possessed 
 glance. " Oh ! " he said. " Indeed ? " Then again he 
 looked away. It was intolerable this sense of impo- 
 tency this feeling of being caged up ! A sensation of 
 anger crept through his mind. It almost seemed that 
 Lillian had brought him there to prove that she had 
 finished with him that she had cast him aside, having 
 used him for the day's excitement, as she had used her 
 poodles, her Persian cats, her crystal-gazing. All at 
 Dnce the uncertainty of his position goaded him to ac- 
 tion. Turning swiftly, he glanced back to where she 
 sat, slowly swaying her fan, her pale golden hair and 
 her pale-colored gown delicately silhouetted against the 
 background of the box. 
 
 " What's your idea of the play, Lillian ? " he said
 
 228 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 abruptly. To his own ears there was a note of challenge 
 in his voice. 
 
 She looked round languidly. " Oh, it's quite amus- 
 ing," she said. " It makes a delicious farce absolutely 
 French." 
 
 " French ? " 
 
 " Quite ! Don't you think so, Lennie ? " 
 
 " Oh, quite ! " Kaine agreed. 
 
 " They mean that it's so very light, and yet so very 
 subtle, Mr. Chilcote," Mary Esseltyn explained. 
 
 " Indeed ? " he said. " Then my imagination was at 
 fault. I thought the piece was serious." 
 
 " Serious ! " Lillian smiled. " Why, where's your 
 sense of humor? The motive of the play debars serious- 
 ness." 
 
 Loder looked down at the programme still between 
 his hands. 
 
 "What is the motive?" he asked. 
 
 Lillian waved her fan once or twice, then closed it 
 softly. " Love is the motive," she said. 
 
 Now the balancing, the adjusting of impression and 
 inspiration, is, of all processes in life, the most deli- 
 cately fine. The simple sound of the word " love " com- 
 ing at that precise juncture changed the whole current 
 of Loder's thought. It fell like a seed; and, like a seed 
 in ultra-productive soil, it bore fruit with amazing ra- 
 pidity. 
 
 The word itself was small, and the manner in which 
 it was spoken trivial ; but Loder's mind was attracted 
 and held by it. The last time it had met his ears, his 
 environment had been vastly different, and this echo of 
 it in an uncongenial atmsophere stung him to resent- 
 ment. The vision of Eve the thought of Eve became 
 suddenly dominant. 
 
 " Love ? " he repeated coldly. " So love is the mo- 
 tive?" 
 
 " Yes." This time it was Kaine who responded in 
 his methodical, contented voice. " The motive of the 
 play is love, as Lillian says. And when was love ever 
 serious in a three-act comedy on or off the stage ? "
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 229 
 
 He leant forward in his seat, screwed in his eye-glass, 
 and lazily scanned the stalls. 
 
 The orchestra was playing a Hungarian dance its 
 erratic harmonies and wild alternations of expression 
 falling abruptly across the pinks and blues, the gilding 
 and lights of the pretty, conventional theatre. Some- 
 thing in the suggestion of unfitness appealed to Loder. 
 It was the force of the real as opposed to the ideal. 
 With a new expression on his face, he turned again to 
 Kaine. 
 
 "And how does it work?" he said. "This treat- 
 ment that you find so French ? " 
 
 His voice as well as his expression had changed. He 
 still spoke quietly, but he spoke with interest. He was 
 no longer conscious of his vague irritation and uneasi- 
 ness; a fresh chord had been struck in his mind, and 
 his curiosity had responded to it. For the first time it 
 occurred to him that love that dangerous, mysterious 
 garden, whose paths had so suddenly stretched out be- 
 fore his own feet was a pleasure-ground that possessed 
 many doors, and an infinite number of keys; for the 
 first time he was stirred by the desire to peer through 
 another entrance than his own, to see the secret allur- 
 ing by-ways from another standpoint. He waited with 
 interest for the answer to his question. 
 
 For a second or two Kaine continued to survey the 
 house ; then his eye-glass dropped from his eye and he 
 turned round. 
 
 " To understand the thing," he said pleasantly, " you 
 must have read the book. Have you read the book?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Kaine," Mary Esseltyn interrupted. " Mr. 
 Chilcote hasn't read the book." 
 
 Lillian laughed. " Outline the story for him, Len- 
 nie," she said. " I love to see other people taking pains." 
 
 Kaine glanced at her admiringly. " Well, to begin 
 with," he said amiably, " two men an artist and a mil- 
 lionaire exchanged lives. See ? " 
 
 " You may presume that he does see, Lennie." 
 
 " Right ! Well, then, as I say, these beggars change 
 identities. They're as like as pins; and to all appear-
 
 230 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 ances one chap's the other chap, and the other chap's 
 the first chap. See ? " 
 
 Loder laughed. The newly quickened interest was 
 enhanced by treading on dangerous ground. 
 
 " Well, they change for a lark, of course ; but there's 
 one fact they both overlook. They're men, you know, 
 and they forget these little things ! " He laughed de- 
 lightedly. " They overlook the fact that one of them 
 has a wife ! " 
 
 There was a crash of music from the orchestra. Loder 
 sat straighter in his seat; he was conscious that the 
 blood had rushed into his face. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ? " he said quickly. " One of them has 
 a wife?" 
 
 "Exactly!" Again Kaine chuckled. "And the 
 point of the joke is that the wife is the least larky person 
 under the sun. See ? " 
 
 A second hot wave passed over Loder's face; a sense 
 of mental disgust filled him. This, then, was the won- 
 derful garden seen from another standpoint ! He 
 looked from Lillian graceful, skeptical, and shallow 
 to the young girl beside him, so frankly modern in her 
 appreciation of life. This, then, was love as seen by the 
 eyes of the world, the world that accepts, judges, and 
 condemns in a slang phrase or two! Very slowly the 
 blood receded from his face. 
 
 " And the end of the story ? " he asked in a strained 
 voice. 
 
 " The end ? Oh, usual end of course ! Chap makes 
 a mess of things and the bubble bursts ! " 
 
 " And the end of the wife ? " 
 
 " The end of the wife ? " Lillian broke in with a lit- 
 tle laugh. " Why, the end of all stupid people who, 
 instead of going through life with a lot of delightfully 
 human stumbles, come just one big cropper. She natur- 
 ally ends in the Divorce Court ! " 
 
 They all laughed boisterously. Then laughter, story, 
 and denoument were all drowned in a tumultuous crash 
 pf music. The orchestra ceased ; there was a slight hum
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 231 
 
 of applause; a bell rang, and the curtain rose on the 
 second act of the play. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A few minutes before the curtain fell on the second 
 act of " Other Men's Shoes," Loder rose from his seat 
 and made his apologies to Lillian. 
 
 At any other moment he might have pondered over 
 her manner of accepting them, the easy indifference 
 with which she let him go. But vastly keener issues 
 were claiming his attention, issues whose results were 
 wide and black. 
 
 He left the theatre, and, refusing the overtures of 
 cabmen, set himself to walk to Chilcote's house. His 
 face was hard and emotionless as he hurried forward, 
 but the chaos in his mind found expression in the un- 
 evenness of his pace. To a strong man, the confront- 
 ing of difficulties is never alarming, and is often fraught 
 with inspiration; but this applies essentially to difficul- 
 ties evolved through the weakness, the folly, or the force 
 of another: when they arise from within, the matter 
 is of another character. It is in presence of his own 
 soul, and in that presence alone, that a man may truly 
 measure himself. 
 
 As Loder walked onward, treading the familiar 
 length of traffic-filled streets, he realized for the first 
 time that he was standing before that solemn tribunal 
 that the hour had come when he must answer to him- 
 self for himself. The longer and deeper an oblivion, 
 the more painful the awakening. For months the song 
 of Self had beaten about his ears, deadening all other 
 sounds. Now, abruptly, that song had ceased; not con- 
 siderately, not lingeringly, but with a suddenness that 
 made the succeeding silence very terrible. 
 
 He walked forward, keeping his direction almost with- 
 out volition. His bearing was quiet, his demeanor calm, 
 but he was passing through the fire as surely as though
 
 232 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 actual flames rose about his feet; and, whatever the 
 result whatever the fibre of the man who emerged 
 from the ordeal the John Loder who had hewn his 
 way through the past weeks was destined to exist no 
 more. The triumphant egotist the strong man who, by 
 his own strength, had kept his eyes upon one point, 
 refusing to see in other directions had ceased to be. 
 
 Keen observer though he was, his realization of this 
 crisis in his life had come with characteristic slowness. 
 When Lillian Astrupp had given her dictum, when the 
 music of the orchestra had ceased, and the curtain risen 
 on the second act of the play, nothing but a sense of 
 stupefaction had filled his mind. In that moment the 
 great song was silenced ; not silenced by any portentous 
 episode, any incident that could have lent dignity to its 
 end, but by a trivial social commonplace. In the first 
 blank sensation of loss his faculties had been numbed; 
 in the quarter of an hour that followed the rise of the 
 curtain he had sat staring at the stage seeing nothing, 
 hearing nothing filled with the enormity of the void 
 that suddenly surrounded him. Then, from habit, from 
 constitutional tendency, he had begun slowly and per- 
 severingly to draw one thread and then another from 
 the tangle of his thoughts ; to forge with doubt and dif- 
 ficulty the chain that was to draw him towards the fu- 
 ture. 
 
 And it was upon this incomplete and yet tenacious 
 chain that his mind worked as he traversed the familiar 
 streets, and gained the house he had so easily learned 
 to call home. 
 
 As he inserted the latch-key and felt it move smoothly 
 in the lock, a momentary revolt against his own judg- 
 ment, his own censorship, swung him. sharply towards 
 reaction. But it is only the blind who can walk without 
 a tremor upon the edge of an abyss and there was no 
 longer a bandage across his eyes. Like a strip of lighted 
 paper, the reaction flared up; but like the strip of paper 
 it dropped back to ashes. He pushed the door open 
 and slowly crossed the hall. 
 
 The mounting of a staircase is often the index to a
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 233 
 
 man's state of mind. As Loder ascended the stairs of 
 Chilcote's house, his shoulders lacked their habitual stiff- 
 ness, his head was bent; he moved as though his feet 
 were weighted. He was no longer the man of achieve- 
 ment, whose smallest opinion compels consideration. In 
 the privacy of solitude, he was the mere human flotsam 
 to which he had once compared himself flotsam that, 
 dreaming it has found a harbor, wakes to see itself the 
 prey of the incoming tide. 
 
 He paused at the head of the stairs to rally his reso- 
 lutions; then, still walking heavily, he passed down the 
 corridor to Eve's room. It was suggestive of his char- 
 acter that, having made his decision, he did not dally 
 over its performance. Without waiting to knock, he 
 turned the handle and walked into the room. 
 
 It looked precisely as it always looked; but to his 
 eyes the subdued coloring of books and flowers the 
 bronzes, the lamps, the whole air of culture and repose" 
 that the place conveyed seemed to hold a deeper mean- 
 ing than before. And as his glance, crossing the inani- 
 mate objects, rested on the face of their owner, the true 
 force of his position the enormity of the task before him 
 rose suddenly and overwhelmingly to his mind. 
 
 Eve was standing by the mantelpiece. She wore a 
 beautiful and elaborate gown ; a long string of diamonds 
 was twisted about her neck, and her soft black hair was 
 coiled high after a foreign fashion, and held in place by 
 a large diamond comb. As he entered the room she 
 turned hastily, almost nervously, and looked at him with 
 the rapid searching glance he had learned to expect from 
 her. But almost directly her expression changed to one 
 of quick concern. With a faint exclamation of alarm, 
 she stepped forward. 
 
 " What has happened ? " she said. " You look like a 
 ghost." 
 
 He made no attempt to answer. Moving into the 
 room, he paused by the oak table that stood between 
 the fireplace and the door. 
 
 They made an unconscious tableau as they confronted 
 each other. He with a hard, set face ; she with a height-
 
 234 JOHN CHILCOTE; oft, 
 
 ened color and inexplicably bright eyes. They stood 
 completely silent for a space ; then, as though finding the 
 tension unbearable, Eve spoke again. 
 
 " Has anything happened ? " she repeated. " Is any- 
 thing wrong ? " 
 
 Had he been less engrossed, the intensity of her con- 
 cern might have struck him, but to a mind so harassed, 
 there was only room for one consideration. The sense 
 of her question reached him, but its significance left 
 him untouched. 
 
 " Is anything wrong? " she reiterated. 
 
 By a great effort he raised his eyes. 
 
 " Yes. Everything in the world is wrong," he said 
 in a slow, hard voice. 
 
 Eve made no sound, but her color suddenly deepened. 
 
 Again he was unobservant. With the dogged reso- 
 lution that invariably marked him, he forced himself to 
 his task. 
 
 " You despise lies," he said slowly. " Tell me what 
 you would think of a man whose whole life was one 
 elaborated lie ? " The words were slightly exaggerated, 
 but their utterance, their painfully brusque sincerity, 
 precluded all suggestion of effect. Resolutely holding 
 her gaze, he repeated his question. 
 
 " Tell me ? Answer me ? I want to know." 
 
 Eve's attitude was difficult to read. She stood twist- 
 ing the string of diamonds between her fingers. 
 
 " Tell me ? " he said again. 
 
 She continued to look at him for a moment; then, as 
 if some fresh impulse moved her, she turned away from 
 him towards the fire. 
 
 " I cannot," she said, uncertainly. " We I I could 
 not set myself to judge any one." 
 
 Loder held himself rigidly in hand. 
 
 " Eve," he said quietly, " I was at the ' Arcadian ' to- 
 night. The play was ' Other Men's Shoes.' I suppose 
 you've read the book ' Other Men's Shoes' ? " 
 
 She was leaning on the mantelpiece, and her face was 
 invisible to him. 
 
 " Yes, I have read it." she said, without looking round.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 235 
 
 " It is the story of an extraordinary likeness between 
 two men. Do you believe such a likeness possible? Do 
 you think such a thing could exist?" He spoke with 
 difficulty; his brain and tongue both felt numb. 
 
 Eve let the diamond chain slip from her fingers. 
 " Yes," she said nervously. " Yes, I do believe it. Such 
 things have been " 
 
 He caught at the words. " You're quite right ! " he 
 said quickly. " You're quite right ! The thing is possi- 
 ble I've proved it. I know a man so like me that you 
 even you could not tell us apart." 
 
 She was silent, still averting her face. 
 
 In dire difficulty he labored on. 
 
 " Such a likeness is a serious thing," he said. " A 
 terrible danger a terrible temptation. Those who have 
 
 no experience of it cannot possibly gauge its pitfalls " 
 
 Again he paused, but again the silent figure by the fire- 
 place gave him no help. 
 
 " Eve ! " he exclaimed suddenly, " if you only knew 
 
 if you only guessed what I'm trying to say " The 
 
 perplexity the whole harassed suffering of his mind, 
 showed in the words. Loder the strong, the resource- 
 ful, the self-contained was hopelessly, palpably at a 
 loss. There was a note of appeal in the vibration of his 
 voice. 
 
 And Eve, standing by the fireplace, heard and un- 
 derstood. In that moment of comprehension all that had 
 held her silent, all the conflicting motives that had for- 
 bidden speech, melted away before the unconscious de- 
 mand for help. Quietly and yet quickly she turned 
 round, her whole face transfigured by a light that 
 seemed to shine from within something singularly soft 
 and tender. 
 
 " There's no need to say anything," she said simply. 
 " I know." 
 
 It came quietly as most great revelations come. Her 
 voice was low and free from any excitement; her face 
 was beautiful in its complete unconsciousness of self. 
 In that supreme moment all her thoughts, all her syn>
 
 236 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 pathies, were for the man and his suffering. She had 
 no consideration of herself. 
 
 To Loder there was a moment of incredulity; then 
 slowly his brain swung to realization. 
 
 '' You know ? " he repeated blankly. " You know ? " 
 
 Without answering, she walked to a cabinet that stood 
 in the window, unlocked a drawer, and drew out several 
 sheets of flimsy white paper, crumpled in places, and 
 closely covered with writing. Without a word she car- 
 ried them back and held them out. 
 
 He took them in silence; scanned them; then looked 
 up. 
 
 In a long wordless pause their eyes met. It was as 
 if each looked speechlessly into the other's heart, seeing 
 the passions, the contradictions, the shortcomings that 
 went to the making of both. In that silence they drew 
 closer together than they could have done through a tor- 
 rent of words. There was no asking of forgiveness, no 
 elaborate confession on either side; in the deep eloquent 
 silence they mutually saw and mutually understood. 
 
 " When I came into the morning-room to-day," Eve 
 said at last, " and saw Lillian Astrupp reading that tele- 
 gram, nothing could have seemed farther from me than 
 the thought that I should follow her example. It was 
 not until afterwards; not until he came into the room; 
 until I saw that you, as I believed, had fallen back again 
 from what I respected to what I despised, that I knew 
 how human I really was. As I watched them laugh and 
 talk, I felt suddenly that I was alone again terribly 
 alone. I I think I believe I was jealous in that mo- 
 ment " She paused and gave a faint nervous laugh. 
 
 "Eve!" 
 
 But she broke in quickly on the word. " I felt dif- 
 ferent in that moment," she said ; " I didn't care about 
 honor or things like honor. After they had gone, it 
 seemed to me that I had missed something something 
 that they possessed. Oh, you don't know what a woman 
 feels when she is jealous!" Again she paused. "It 
 was then that the telegram, and the thought of Lillian's 
 amused smile as she had read it, came to my mind.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 237 
 
 Feeling as I did acting on what I felt I crossed to 
 the bureau and picked it up. In one second I had seen 
 enough to make it impossible to draw back. Oh, it may 
 have been dishonorable it may have been mean ! but I 
 wonder if any woman in the world would have done 
 otherwise. I crumpled up the papers just as they were, 
 and carried them to my own room." She stopped and 
 looked at him, her breath coming fast, the pupils of her 
 eyes dilated. 
 
 From the first word of the story to the last, his eyes 
 had never left her face; and instantly she finished his 
 voice broke forth in irrepressible question. In that won- 
 derful space of time he had learned many things. All 
 his deductions, all his apprehensions, had been scattered 
 and disproved. He had seen the true meaning of Lil- 
 lian Astrupp's amused indifference the indifference of 
 a variable flippant mature that, robbed of any real weapon 
 for mischief, soon tires of a game that promises to be 
 too arduous. He saw all this, and understood it with a 
 rapidity born of the moment; nevertheless when Eve 
 ceased to speak, the question that broke from him was 
 not connected with this great discovery was not even 
 suggestive of it. It was something quite immaterial to 
 any real issue, but something that overshadowed every 
 consideration in the world. 
 
 "Eve," he said, "tell me your first thought? Your 
 first thought after the shock and the surprise, when 
 when you remembered me ? " 
 
 There was a fresh pause, but one of very short dura- 
 tion; then Eve met his glance fearlessly and frankly. 
 The same pride and dignity, the same indescribable ten- 
 derness that had responded to his first appeal, shone in 
 her face. 
 
 " My first thought was a great thankfulness," she said 
 simply. " A thankfulness that you that no man 
 could ever understand,"
 
 238 JOHN CHILCOTE; oft, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 As she finished speaking, Eve did not lower her eyes. 
 To her there was no suggestion of shame in her thoughts 
 or her words; but to Loder, watching and listening, 
 there was a perilous meaning contained in both. 
 
 " Thankfulness ? " he repeated slowly. From his newly 
 stirred sense of responsibility, pity and comprehension 
 were rising gradually and laboriously. He had never 
 seen Eve as he saw her now; and his vision was all the 
 clearer for the long oblivion. With a poignant sense of 
 compassion and remorse, the knowledge of her youth 
 came to him. The youth that some women preserve in 
 the midst of the world, when circumstances have per- 
 mitted them to see much but to experience little. 
 
 " Thankfulness ? " he said again incredulously. 
 
 A slight smile touched her lips. 
 
 " Yes," she answered softly. " Thankfulness that my 
 faith had been rightly placed." 
 
 She spoke simply and confidently, but the words struck 
 Loder more sharply than any accusation. With a heavy 
 sense of bitterness and renunciation he moved slowly for- 
 ward. 
 
 " Eve," he said very gently, " you don't know what 
 you say." 
 
 She had lowered her eyes as he came towards her; 
 now again she lifted them in a swift upward glance. 
 For the first time since he had entered the room a slight 
 look of personal doubt and uneasiness showed in her 
 face. 
 
 " Why ? " she said. " I I don't understand." 
 
 For a moment he answered nothing. He had found 
 his first explanation overwhelming; now, suddenly, it 
 seemed to him that his present difficulty was more im- 
 possible to surmount. 
 
 " I came here to-night to tell you something," he be- 
 gan at last, " but so far, I have only said half of what 
 I meant to say " 
 
 "Half?" 
 
 " Yes ; half." He repeated the word quickly, avoid-
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 239 
 
 ing the question in her eyes. Then, conscious of the 
 need for explanation, he plunged into rapid speech. 
 
 " A fraud like mine," he said, " has only one safe- 
 guard, one justification a boundless audacity. Once 
 shake that audacity, and the whole motive-power 
 crumbles. It was to make the audacity impossible; to 
 tell you the truth and make it impossible, that I came 
 here to-night. The fact that you already know makes 
 the telling easier but it alters nothing." 
 
 Eve raised her head, but he went resolutely on, not 
 appearing to see her action. 
 
 " To-night," he said, " I have seen into my own life, 
 into my own mind ; and my ideas have been very roughly 
 shaken into place. We never make so colossal a mis- 
 take as when we imagine that we know ourselves! 
 Months ago, when your husband first proposed this 
 scheme to me, I was according to my own conception 
 a solitary being vastly ill-used by Fate who, with a 
 fine stoicism, was leading a clean life. That was what 
 I believed. But there, at the very outset, I deceived 
 myself. I was simply a man who shut himself up be- 
 cause he cherished a grudge against life, and who lived 
 honestly because he had a constitutional distaste for vice. 
 My first feeling when I saw your husband was one of 
 self-righteous contempt; and that has been my attitude 
 all along. I have often marveled at the flood of in- 
 tolerance that has rushed over me at sight of him the 
 violent desire that has possessed me to look away from 
 his weakness and banish the knowledge of it ; but now I 
 understand. 
 
 " I know now what the feeling meant. The knowl- 
 edge came to me to-night. It meant that I turned away 
 from his weakness, because, deep within myself, some- 
 thing stirred in recognition of it. Humanity is much 
 simpler than we like to think ; and human impulses have 
 an extraordinary fundamental connection. Weakness is 
 egotism but so is strength. Chilcote has followed his 
 vice I have followed my ambition. It will take a higher 
 judgment than yours or mine to say which of us has
 
 240 JOHN CHILCOTE; oft, 
 
 been the more selfish man ! " He paused and looked at 
 her. 
 
 She was watching him intently. Some of the mean- 
 ing in his face had found a pained, alarmed reflection in 
 her own. But the awe and wonder of the morning's 
 discovery still colored her mind too vividly to allow of 
 other considerations possessing their proper value. The 
 thrill of exultation with which the misgivings born of 
 Chilcote's vice had dropped away from her mental image 
 of Loder, was still too absorbing to be easily dominated. 
 She loved and, as if by a miracle, her love had been 
 justified. For the moment the justification seemed all- 
 sufficing. Something of confidence, something of the in- 
 nocence that comes, not from ignorance of evil, but 
 from a mind singularly uncontaminated, blinded her to 
 the danger of her position. 
 
 Loder, waiting apprehensively for some aid, some ex- 
 pression of opinion, became gradually conscious of this 
 lack of realization. Moved by a fresh impulse, he crossed 
 the small space that divided them and caught both her 
 hands. 
 
 " Eve," he said gently, " I have been trying to ana- 
 lyze myself and give you the results; but I shan't try 
 any more, I shall be quite plain with you. 
 
 " From the first moment I took your husband's place 
 I was ambitious. You unconsciously aroused the feel- 
 ing when you brought me Fraide's message on the first 
 night. You aroused it by your words, but you aroused 
 it more strongly by your underlying antagonism. On 
 that night, although I did not know it then, I took up 
 my position I made my determination. Do you know 
 what that determination was ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " It was the desire to stamp out Chilcote's footmarks 
 with my own; to prove that personality is the great 
 force, capable of everything. I forgot to reckon that 
 when we draw largely upon Fate, she generally extorts 
 a crushing interest. 
 
 " First came the wish for your respect ; then came the 
 desire to stand well with such men as Fraide, to feel the
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 241 
 
 stir of emulation and competition, to prove myself 
 strong in the one career I knew myself really fitted for. 
 For a time the second ambition overshadowed the first, 
 but the first was bound to reassert itself; and in a mo- 
 ment of egotism I conceived the notion of winning your 
 enthusiasm as well as your respect " 
 
 Eve's face, alert and questioning, suddenly paled as 
 a doubt crossed her mind. 
 
 ; ' Then it was only only to stand well with me ? " 
 
 " I believed it was only the desire to stand well with 
 you. I believed that, until the night of my speech if 
 you can credit anything so absurd then, on that night, 
 as I came up the stairs to the Gallery and saw you 
 standing there, the blindness fell away, and I knew that 
 I loved you." As he said the last words he released 
 her hands and turned aside, missing the quick wave of 
 joy and color that crossed her face. 
 
 " I knew it, but it made no difference," he went on ; 
 " I was only moved to a higher self-glorification. I 
 touched supremacy that night. But as we drove 
 home I experienced the strangest coincidence of my life. 
 You remember the block in the traffic at Piccadilly ? " 
 
 Again she bent her head silently. 
 
 " Well, when I looked out of the carriage-window to 
 discover its cause, the first man I saw was Chilcote." 
 
 Eve started slightly. This swift unexpected linking 
 of Chilcote's name with the most exalted moment of her 
 life stirred her unpleasantly. Some glimmering of 
 Loder's intention in so linking it, broke suddenly through 
 the web of her disturbed and conflicting thoughts. 
 
 " You saw him on that night ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and the sight chilled me. It was a big drop 
 from supremacy to the remembrance of everything." 
 
 Involuntarily she put out her hand. 
 
 But Loder shook his head. " No," he said ; " don't 
 pity me. The sight of him came just in time. I had 
 a reaction in that moment; and, such as it was, I acted 
 on it. I went to him next morning and told him that 
 the thing must end. But then even then I shirked be- 
 ing honest with myself. I had meant to tell him that
 
 242 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 it must end because I had grown to love you, but my 
 pride rose up and tied my tongue. I could not humiliate 
 myself. I put the case before him in another light. It 
 was a tussle of wills and I won; but the victory was 
 not what it should have been. That was proved to-day, 
 when he returned to tell me of the loss of this telegram. 
 It wasn't the fear that Lady Astrupp had found it; it 
 wasn't to save the position that I jumped at the chance 
 of coming back. It was to feel the joy of living, the 
 joy of seeing you if only for a day ! " For one sec- 
 ond he turned towards her; then, as abruptly, he turned 
 away again. 
 
 " I was still thinking of myself," he said. " I was still 
 utterly self-centered when I came to this room to-day 
 and allowed you to talk to me when I asked you to see 
 me to-night, as we parted at the club. I shan't tell you 
 the thoughts that unconsciously were in my mind when 
 I asked that favor. You must understand without ex- 
 planation. 
 
 " I went to the theatre with Lady Astrupp ostensibly 
 to find how the land lay in her direction really to 
 heighten my self-esteem. But there, Fate or the 
 Power we like to call by that name was lying in wait 
 for me, ready to claim the first interest on the portion 
 of life I had dared to borrow." He said this slowly, 
 as if measuring each word. He did not glance towards 
 Eve, as he had done in his previous pause. His whole 
 manner seemed oppressed by the gravity of what he had 
 still to say. 
 
 " I doubt if a man has ever seen more in half an hour 
 than I have done to-night," he said. " With his men- 
 tal eyes, I mean. In this play, ' Other Men's Shoes,' 
 two men change identities as Chilcote and I have done 
 but in doing so they overlook one fact. The fact 
 that one of them has a wife! That's not my way of 
 putting it; it's the way it was put to me by one of 
 Lady Astrupp's guests." 
 
 Again Eve looked up. The doubt and question in 
 her eyes had grown unmistakably, As he ceased tp 
 speak, her lips parted quickly.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 243 
 
 " John," she said with sudden conviction, " you're try- 
 ing to say something something that's terribly hard." 
 
 Without raising his head, Loder answered her. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " the hardest thing a man ever 
 said " 
 
 His tone was short, almost brusque, but to ears sharp- 
 ened by instinct it was eloquent. Without a word, Eve 
 took a step forward, and, standing quite close to him, 
 laid both hands on his shoulders. 
 
 For a space they stood silent, she with her face lifted, 
 he with averted eyes. Then, very gently, he raised his 
 hands and tried to unclasp her ringers. There was 
 scarcely any color visible in his face ; and by a curious 
 effect of emotion it seemed that lines, never before no- 
 ticeable, had formed about his mouth. 
 
 " What is it ? " Eve asked apprehensively. " John, 
 what is it?" 
 
 By a swift involuntary movement she had tightened 
 the pressure of her ringers; and, without using force, 
 it was impossible for him to unloose them. With his 
 hands pressed irresolutely over hers, he looked down 
 into her face. 
 
 " As I sat in the theatre to-night," he said slowly, " all 
 the pictures I had formed of life shifted. Without de- 
 siring it, without knowing it, my whole point of view 
 was changed. I suddenly saw things by the world's 
 search-light instead of by my own miserable candle. I 
 suddenly saw things for you instead of for myself." 
 
 Her eyes widened and darkened, but she said noth- 
 ing. 
 
 " I suddenly saw the unpardonable wrong that I have 
 done you the imperative duty of cutting it short." He 
 spoke very slowly, in a dull mechanical voice. 
 
 Eve her eyes still wide, her face pained and alarmed 
 withdrew her hands from his shoulders. 
 
 " You mean," she said with difficulty, " that it is go- 
 ing to end? That you are going away? That you are 
 giving everything up ? Oh, but you can't ! You can't ! " 
 She spoke with sudden excitement, her fears overmas-
 
 244 JOHN CHILCOTE; oft, 
 
 taring her incredulity. " You can't ! You mustn't I The 
 only proof that could have interfered " 
 
 " I wasn't thinking of the proof." 
 
 " Then of what? of what? " 
 
 Loder was silent for a moment. 
 
 " Of our love," he said steadily. 
 
 She colored deeply. " But why ? " she stammered ; 
 why ? We have done no wrong. We need do no wrong. 
 
 We would be friends nothing more ; and I Oh, I 
 
 so need a friend ! " For almost the first time in Loder's 
 knowledge of her, her voice broke, her control de- 
 serted her. She stood before him in all the pathos of 
 her lonely girlhood. 
 
 The revelation touched him with sudden poignancy; 
 the real strength that lay beneath his faults, the chivalry 
 buried under years of callousness, stirred at the birth of 
 a new emotion. The resolution preserved at such a 
 cost, the sacrifice that had seemed wellnigh impossible, 
 all at once took on a different shape. What before had 
 been a barren duty, became suddenly a sacred right. 
 Holding out his arms he drew her to him as if she had 
 been a child. 
 
 " Eve," he said gently, " I have learned to-night how 
 fully a woman's life is at the mercy of the world and 
 how scanty that mercy is. If circumstances had been 
 different, I believe I am convinced I would have made 
 you a good husband, would have used my right to pro- 
 tect you as well as a man could use it. And now that 
 things are different, I want I should like " He hes- 
 itated a very little. " Now that I have no right to pro- 
 tect you, except the right my love gives, I want to guard 
 you as closely from all that is sordid as any husband 
 could guard his wife. 
 
 " In life there are really only two broad issues right 
 and wrong. Whatever we may say, whatever we may 
 profess to believe, we know that our actiqn is always a 
 choice between right and wrong. A month/ago a week 
 ago I would have despised a man who could talk like 
 this, and have though myself strong for despising him.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 245 
 
 Now I know that strength is something more than the trampling 
 of others into the dust, that we ourselves may have a clear road. 
 It is something much harder and much less triumphant than 
 that. It is the standing aside to let somebody else pass on. 
 Eve !" he cried suddenly, "Eve, I'm trying to do this for you. 
 Don't you see? Don't you understand? The easy course, the 
 pleasant course, would be to let things drift. Every instinct is 
 calling to me to take that course to go on as I have gone, 
 trading on Chilcote's weakness and your your generosity. But 
 I won't do it ! I can't do it !" With a swift impulse he loosed 
 his arms and held her away from him. 
 
 " Eve, it's the first time I have put another human being before 
 myself." 
 
 Eve kept her head bent. Painful, inaudible sobs were shaking 
 her from head to foot. 
 
 " It's something in you something unconscious, something 
 high and fine that holds me back, that literally bars the way. 
 Eve, can't you see that I'm fighting fighting hard?" 
 
 After he had spoken there was silence a long painful silence 
 during which Eve waged the battle that so many of her sex have 
 waged before; the battle in which words are useless and tears 
 of no account. She looked very slight, very young, very forlorn 
 as she stood there. Then, in the oppressive sense of waiting 
 that filled the whole room, she looked up at him. 
 
 Her face was stained with tears, her thick black lashes were 
 still wet with them ; but her expression, as her eyes met his, 
 was a strange example of the courage, the firmness, the power 
 of sacrifice that may be hidden in a fragile vessel. 
 
 She said nothing, for in such a moment words do not come 
 easily, but with the simplest, most submissive, most eloquent 
 gesture in the word she set his perplexity to rest. 
 
 Taking his hand between hers, she lifted it, and for a long 
 silent space held it against her lips. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 For a while there was silence ; then Loder, bitterly aware that 
 he had conquered, poignantly conscious of the appeal that Eve's 
 attitude made, found further endurance impossible. Gently 
 freeing his hand, he moved away from her to the fireplace, 
 taking up the position that she had first occupied. 
 
 " Eve," he said slowly, " I haven't finished yet. I haven't said 
 everything. I'm going to tax your courage further." 
 
 With a touch of pained alarm she raised her head. " Fur- 
 ther?" she said. 
 
 He shrank from the expression on her face. 
 
 " Yes," he said with difficulty. " Yes, there's still another 
 point to be faced. The matter doesn't end with my going back.
 
 246 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 To have the situation fully saved, Chilcote must return Chil- 
 cote must be brought to realize his responsibilities." 
 
 Her lips parted in dumb dismay. 
 
 " It must be done," he went on hurriedly ; " and we have got 
 to do it you and I." He turned and looked at her. 
 
 "I? I could do nothing. What could I do?" Her voice 
 failed. 
 
 " Everything," he said ; " you could do everything. He is 
 morally weak, but he has one sensitive point the fear of a public 
 exposure. Once make it plain to him that you know his secret, 
 and you can compel him to whatever course of action you select. 
 It was to ask you to do this to beg you to do this that I came 
 to you tonight. I know that it's expecting more than a woman's 
 resolution more ihan a woman's strength. But you are like no 
 woman in the world! 
 
 " Eve ! " he cried with sudden vehemence, " can't you see that 
 it's imperative the one thing to save us both?" 
 
 He stopped as abruptly as he had begun, and again a painful 
 silence filled the room. Then, as before, Eve moved instinctively 
 towards him, but this time her steps were slow and uncertain. 
 Nearing his side, she put out her hand as if for comfort and 
 support; and feeling his fingers tighten round it, stood for a 
 moment resting in the contact. 
 
 " I understand," she said at last very slowly. " I understand. 
 When will you take me to him ? " 
 
 For a moment Loder said nothing, not daring to trust his 
 voice; then he answered low and abruptly. 
 
 " Now ! " he said. " Now, at once ! Now, this moment, if I 
 may ! And remember that I know what it costs you." As if 
 imbued with fear that his own courage might fail him, he re- 
 leased her hand, crossed the room to where a long dark cloak 
 lay as she had thrown it on her return home, and, picking it up, 
 silently wrapped it about her. Then, still acting automatically, 
 he moved to the door, opened it, and stood aside while she passed 
 out into the corridor. 
 
 In complete silence they descended the stairs, and moved to 
 the hall-door. There Crapham, who had returned to his duties 
 since Loder's entrance, came quickly forward with an offer of 
 service. ^ . 
 
 But Loder dismissed him curtly; and with something of the 
 confusion bred of Chilcote's regime, the man drew back towards 
 the staircase. 
 
 With a hasty movement Loder stepped forward, and, opening 
 the hall-door, admitted a breath of chill air. But on the thresh- 
 old he paused. It was his first sign of hesitation ; the one 
 instant in which nature rebelled against the conscience so tardily 
 awakened. For one moment he stood motionless, and it is 
 doubtful whether even Eve fully fathomed the bitterness of his
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 247 
 
 renunciation the blackness of the night that stretched in front 
 of him. 
 
 Behind him was everything; before him, nothing. The every- 
 thing symbolized by the luxurious house, the eagerly attentive 
 servants, the pleasant atmosphere of responsibility ; the nothing 
 represented by the broad public thoroughfare, the passing figures, 
 each unconscious of, each uninterested in his existence. As an 
 interloper he had entered this house ; as an interloper he had 
 played his part, lived his hour, proved himself; as an interloper 
 he was now passing back into the dim world of unrealized hopes 
 and unachieved ambitions. 
 
 He stood rigidly quiet, his strong figure silhouetted against the 
 lighted hall, his face cold and set; then with a touch of fatality, 
 Chance cut short his struggle. 
 
 An empty hansom wheeled round the corner of the square; the 
 cabman, Feeing him, raised his whip in query, and involuntarily 
 Loder nodded an acquiescence. A moment later he had helped 
 Eve into the cab. 
 
 "Middle Temple Lane!" he directed, pausing on the step. 
 
 "Middle Temple Lane is opposite to Clifford's Inn," he ex- 
 plained, as lie took his place. "When we get there we have only 
 to cross the Strand." 
 
 Eve bent her head in token that she understood, and the cab 
 moved out into the roadway. 
 
 Within a few minutes the neighborhood of Grosvenor Square 
 was exchanged for the noisier and more crowded one of Picca- 
 dilly ; but either the cabman was over cautious or the horse was 
 below the average, for they made but slow progresr through the 
 more crowded streets. To the two, sitting in silence, the pace 
 was wellnigh unbearable. With every added movement the ten- 
 sion grew. The methodical care with which they moved seemed 
 like the tightening of a string already strained to breaking-point; 
 yet neither spoke, because neither had the courage necessary for 
 words. 
 
 Once or twice they traversed the Strand, Loder made a move- 
 ment as if to break the quiet; but nothing followed it. He con- 
 tinued to lean forward with a certain dogged stiffness, his 
 clasped hands resting on the doors of the cab, his eyes staring 
 straight ahead. Not once, as they threaded their way, did he 
 dare to glance at Eve, though every movement, every slightest 
 stir of her garments, was forced upon his consciousness by his 
 acutely awakened senses. 
 
 When at last they drew up before the dark archway of Middle 
 Temple Lane, he descended hastily. And as he mechanically 
 turned to protect her dress from the wheel, he looked at her 
 fully for the first time since their enterprise had been undertaken. 
 As he looked, he felt his heart sink. He had expected to see the 
 marks of suffering on her face, but the expression he saw sug- 
 gested something more than mere mental pain.
 
 248 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 The rich color that usually deepened and softened the charm of 
 her beauty had been erased as if by a long illness ; and against 
 the new pallor of her skin, her blue eyes, her black hair and 
 eyebrows looked startlingly dark. A chill colder than remorse 
 a chill that bordered upon actual fear fell upon him. With the 
 first impulsive gesture he had allowed himself, he touched her 
 arm. 
 
 "Eye " he began unsteadily; then the word died upon his lips. 
 
 Without a sound, almost without a movement, she returned his 
 glance ; and something in her eyes checked what he might have 
 said. In that one expressive look he understood all she had 
 desired all she had renounced ; the full extent of the ordeal 
 she had consented to, and the motive that had compelled her con- 
 sent. He drew back with the heavy sense that repentance and 
 pity were equally futile equally out of place. 
 
 Still in silence, she stepped to the pavement and stood aside 
 while he dismissed the hansom. To both there was something 
 symbolic, something prophetic, in the dismissal. Without inten- 
 tion and almost unconsciously, they drew closer together as the 
 horse turned, its hoofs clattering on the roadway, its harness 
 jingling. And involuntarily they looked after the vehicle, as it 
 moved away down the long shadowed thoroughfare towards the 
 lights, the crowds that they had left behind. At last, instinctive- 
 ly, they turned towards each other. 
 
 "Come !" said Loder abruptly. "Come ! it's only across the 
 road." 
 
 Fleet street is generally very quiet once midnight is passed, and 
 Eve had no need of guidance or protection as they crossed the 
 pavement, shining like ice in the lamplight.. They crossed it 
 slowly, walking apart ; for the dread of physical contact that had 
 possessed them in the cab seemed to have fallen upon them 
 again. 
 
 Inquisitiveness has little place in the region of the City, and 
 they gained the opposite footpath unnoticed by the casual passer- 
 by. Then, still holding apart, they" reached and entered Clifford's 
 Inn. 
 
 Inside the entrance they paused, and Eve shivered involuntarily. 
 
 "How gray it is!" she said faintly. "And how cold! Like a 
 graveyard." 
 
 Loder turned to her. For one moment his control seemed 
 shaken; his blood surged, his vision clouded; the sense that life 
 and love were still within his reach filled him overwhelmingly. 
 He half extended his hands. Then, stirred by what impulse, 
 moved by what instinct, it was impossible to say, he let them 
 drop to his sides again. 
 
 "Come !" he repeated. "Come ! This is the way. Keep close 
 to me. Put your hand on my arm." 
 
 He spoke quietly, but his eyes were resolutely averted from 
 hers, as they crossed the dim silent court.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 240 
 
 Entering the gloomy doorway that led to his own rooms, he 
 felt her fingers tremble on his arm, then tighten in their pres- 
 sure, as the bare passage and cheerless stairs met her view ; but 
 he set his lips. 
 
 "Come !" he reiterated in the same strained voice. "Come ! It 
 isn't far three or four flights." 
 
 With a white face and a curious expression in her eyes, Eve 
 moved forward. She had released Loder's arm as they crossed 
 the hall ; and now, reaching the stairs, she put out her hand 
 gropingly and caught the banisters. She had a pained, numb 
 sense of submission of suffering that had sunk to apathy. Mov- 
 ing forward without resistance, she began to mount the stairs. 
 
 The ascent was made in silence. Loder went first, his shoulders 
 braced, his head held erect; while Eve, mechanically watchful of 
 all his movements, followed a step or two behind. With weary 
 monotony one flight of stairs succeeded another; each, to her un- 
 accustomed eyes, seeming more colorless, more solitary, more 
 desolate than the preceding one. 
 
 At last, with a sinking sense of apprehension, she realized 
 that their goal was reached. 
 
 The knowledge broke sharply through her dulled senses ; and 
 confronted by the closeness of her ordeal she paused, her head 
 lifted, her hand still nervously grasping the banister. Her lips 
 parted as if in sudden demand for aid ; but in that nervous ex- 
 pectation, the pained apprehension of the moment, no sound 
 escaped them. And Loder, who had resolutely moved across the 
 landing, knew nothing of the silent appeal. 
 
 For a second she stood hesitating; then her own weakness, her 
 own shrinking dismay, were submerged in the interest of his 
 movements. Slowly mounting the remaining steps, she followed 
 him, as if fascinated, towards the door that showed dingily con- 
 spicuous in the light of an unshaded gas-jet. 
 
 Almost at the moment that she reached his side, he extended 
 his hand towards the door. The action was decisive and hur- 
 ried, as though he feared to trust himself. 
 
 For a space he fumbled with the lock. And Eve, standing 
 close behind him, heard the handle creak and turn under his 
 pressure. Then he shook the door. 
 
 At last slowly almost reluctantly he turned round. "I'm 
 afraid things aren't quite quite right," he said in a low voice. 
 "The door is locked, and I can see no light." 
 
 She raised her eyes quickly. "But you have a key?" she whis- 
 pered. "Haven't you got a key?" It was obvious that, to both, 
 the unexpected check to their designs was fraught with danger. 
 
 "Yes, but " He paused and looked again towards the door. 
 "Yes I have a key. Yes perhaps you're right !" he added 
 quickly. "Perhaps I had better use it. Wait, while I go inside !" 
 
 Filled with a new nervousness, oppressed by the loneliness and 
 silence about her, Eve drew back obediently. The sense of mys-
 
 250 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 tery conveyed by the closed door weighed upon her. Her suscep- 
 tibilities were tensely alert as she watched Loder search for his 
 key and insert it in the lock. With mingled dread and curiosity 
 she saw the door yield, and gape open like a black gash in the 
 dingy wall ; and, with a sudden sense of desertion, she saw him 
 pass through the aperture and heard him strike a match. 
 
 The wait that followed seemed extraordinarily long. Listening 
 intently, she heard him move softly from one room to another. 
 And at last, to her acutely nervous susceptibilities, it seemed 
 that he paused in absolute silence. In the intensity of listening, 
 she heard her own faint, irregular breathing; and the sound 
 filled her with panic. The quiet, the solitude, the vague instinctive 
 apprehension, became suddenly unendurable. Then, all at once, 
 the tension was relieved. Lpder reappeared. 
 
 He paused for a second in the shadowy doorway; then he 
 turned unsteadily, drew the door to, and locked it. 
 
 Eve stepped forward. Her glimpse of him had been moment- 
 ary and she had not heard his voice yet the consciousness of 
 his bearing filled her with instinctive fear. Abruptly and with- 
 out reason, her hands turned cold, her heart began to beat vio- 
 lently. 
 
 "John " she said below her breath. 
 
 For answer, he moved towards her. His face was bereft of 
 color; there was a look of consternation in his eyes. 
 
 "Come !" he said. "Come at once ! I must take you home." 
 He spoke in a shaken, uneven voice. 
 
 Eve, looking up at him, caught his hand. "Why? Why?" Her 
 tone was low and scared. 
 
 Without replying he drew her imperatively towards the stairs. 
 "Go very softly," he commanded. "No one must see you here." 
 
 In the first moment she obeyed him instinctively; but reaching 
 the head of the stairs, she stopped. With one hand still clasping 
 his, the other clinging nervously to the banister, she refused to 
 descend. 
 
 "John," she whispered, "I'm not a child. What is it? What 
 has happened?" 
 
 For a moment he looked at her uncertainly; then reading the 
 expression in her eyes, he yielded to her demand. 
 
 "He's dead!" he said in a very low voice. "Chicote is dead!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 To fully appreciate a great announcement we must have time 
 at our disposal. At the moment of Loder's disclosure, time was 
 denied to Eve; for scarcely had the words left his lips than the 
 thought that dominated him asserted its prior claim. Blind to 
 the incredulity in her eyes, he drew her swiftly forward, and, 
 half impelling, half supporting her, forced her to descend the 
 stairs.
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 251 
 
 Never in after-life could he obliterate the remembrance of that 
 descent. Fear, such as he could never experience in his own 
 concerns, possessed him. One desire overrode all others the 
 desire that Eve's reputation which he himself had so nearly en- 
 dangered should remain unimperilled. In the shadow of that 
 new and urgent duty, the despair of the past hours, the appalling 
 fact so lately realized, the future with its possible trials, became 
 dark to his imagination. In his victory over self, the question 
 of her protection predominated. 
 
 Moving under this compulsion, he guided her hastily and 
 silently down the deserted stairs, drawing a breath of deep relief 
 as, one after another, the landings were successfully passed ; and 
 still actuated by the suppressed need of haste, he passed through 
 the doorway that they had entered under such different condi- 
 tions only a few minutes before. 
 
 To leave the quiet court, gain the Strand, and hail a belated 
 hansom, was the work of a moment. By an odd contrivance of 
 circumstances, the luck that, had attended every phase of his dual 
 life was again exerted in his behalf. No one had noticed his 
 entry into Clifford's Inn; no one was moved to curiosity by his 
 exit. With an involuntary thrill of feeling he gave expression 
 to his relief. 
 
 "Thank God, it's over !" he said, as the cab drew up beside the 
 curb. "You don't know what the strain has been!" 
 
 Moving as if in a dream, Eve stepped into the waiting hansom. 
 As yet the terrible denouement to their enterprise had made no 
 clear impression upon her mind. For the moment all that she 
 was conscious of all that she instinctively acknowledged was 
 the fact that Loder was still beside her. 
 
 In quiet obedience she took her place, drawing aside her skirts 
 to make room for him ; and in the same subdued manner he 
 stepped into the vehicle. Then, with the strange sensation of 
 re-living their earlier drive, they were mutually aware of the 
 tightened reins and the horse's first forward movement. 
 
 For several seconds neither spoke. Eve, shutting out all other 
 thoughts, sat close to Loder, clinging tenaciously to the moment- 
 ary comforting sense of his protection ; and Loder, striving to 
 marshal his ideas, hesitated before the ordeal of speech. At last, 
 realizing his responsibility, he turned to her slowly. 
 
 "Eve," he said in a low voice, and with some hesitation, "I 
 want you to know that from the moment I saw him from the 
 moment I understood I have had you in my thoughts you and 
 no one else." 
 
 She raised her eyes to his face. 
 
 "Do you realize?" he began afresh. "Do you know what this 
 this thing means?" 
 
 Still she remained silent. 
 
 "It means that after tonight there will be no such person in 
 London as John Loder. It means that tomorrow the man W}IQ
 
 252 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 was known by that name will be found dead in his rooms; his 
 body will be removed, and at the post-mortem examination it 
 will be stated that he died of an overdose of morphia. His char- 
 woman will identify him as a solitary man who lived respectably 
 for years, and then suddenly went downhill with remarkable 
 rapidity. It will be quite a common case. Nothing of interest 
 will be found in his rooms; no relation will claim his body; after 
 the usual interval, he will be given the usual burial of his class. 
 These details are horrible, but there are times when we must look 
 at the horrible sides of life because life is incomplete without 
 them. 
 
 "These things I speak of, are the things that will meet the 
 casual eye; but in our sight they will have a very different mean- 
 ing." 
 
 "Eve !" he said sharply and almost vehemently ; "a whole chap- 
 ter in my life has been closed to-night; and my first instinct is 
 to shut the book and throw it away. But I am thinking of you. 
 Remember, I am thinking of you. Whatever the trials, whatever 
 the difficulties, no harm shall come to you. You have my word 
 for that!" 
 
 "I'll return with you now to Grosvenor Square; I'll remain till 
 a reasonable excuse can be given for Chilcote's going abroad; I 
 will avoid Fraide, and I will cut politics ; then at the first reason- 
 able moment I will do what I would do now, to-night, if it were 
 possible. I'll go away ; start afresh ; try to do in another country 
 what I have done in this!" 
 
 There was a long silence ; then Eve turned to him. 
 
 "In another country?" she said. "In another country?" 
 
 "Yes; a fresh career in a fresh country. Something clean to 
 offer you. I'm not too old to do what other men have done." 
 
 He paused; and for one moment Eve looked ahead at the 
 gleaming chain of lamps that marked the Strand; then, with the 
 same air of deliberation, she brought her glance back to his face. 
 
 "No," she said very slowly. "You are not too old. But there 
 are times when age and things like age are not the real consid- 
 eration. It seems to me that your own inclination, your own 
 individual sense of right and wrong, has nothing to dp with the 
 present moment. The question is whether you are justified in 
 going away?" She paused, her eyes fixed steadily upon his. 
 "Whether you are free to go away and make a new life ? Wheth- 
 er it is ever justifiable to follow a phantom light when when 
 there's a lantern waiting to be carried !" Her breath caught ; she 
 drew away from him, half frightened, half elated by her words. 
 
 Loder's lips parted. 
 
 "Eve!" he exclaimed. Then suddenly his tone changed. "You 
 don't know what you're saying," he added quickly. "You don't 
 understand what you're saying." 
 
 But Eve leant forward, still looking into his eyes. "Yes," she 
 gaid slowly "J do understand." Her voice was controlled, fee?
 
 THE MASQUERADERS. 
 
 hianner convinced. She was no longer the girl conquered by 
 strength greater than her own; she was the woman, strenuously 
 demanding her right to individual happiness. 
 
 "I understand it all," she repeated. "I understand every point. 
 It was not Chance that made you change your identity, that made 
 you care for me, that brought about his death. I don't believe 
 it was Chance; I believe it was something much higher. You 
 are not meant to go away!" 
 
 As Loder watched her, the remembrance of his first days as 
 Chilcote rose again ; the remembrance of how he had been dimly 
 filled with the belief that below her self-possession lay a strength 
 a depth uncommon in woman. As he studied her now the 
 instinctive belief flamed into conviction. 
 
 "Eve !" he cried involuntarily. 
 
 With a quick gesture she raised her head. "No!" she ex- 
 claimed. "No ; don't say anything ! You are going to see things 
 as I see them you must do so you have no choice. No real 
 man ever casts away the substance for the shadow !" Her eyes 
 shone the color, the glow, the vitality rushed back into her face. 
 
 "John," she said, "I love you and I need you but there is 
 something with a greater claim a greater need than mine. Don't 
 you know what it is?" 
 
 He said nothing; he made no gesture. 
 
 "It is the party the country. You may put love aside, but 
 duty is different. You have pledged yourself. You are not 
 meant to draw back." 
 
 Again his lips parted, but again she checked him. 
 
 "Don't!" she said. "Don't say anything! I know all that is 
 in your mind. But when we sift things right through, it isn't 
 my love or our happiness that's really in the balance. It is your 
 future !" Her voice thrilled. "You are going to be a great 
 man ! And a great man is the property of his country. He has 
 no right to individual action. You believe you have acted wrong- 
 ly and you are desperately afraid of acting wrong- 
 ly again. But is it really truer, more loyal, for us to work out a 
 long probation in grooves" that are already over-filled than to 
 marry quietly abroad and fill the places that have need of us? 
 That is the question I want you to answer. Is it really truer and 
 nobler? Oh, I see the doubt that is in your mind! You think it 
 finer to go away and make a new life than to live the life that is 
 waiting for you because one is independent and the other means 
 the use of another man's name and another man's money. That 
 is the thought in your mind. But what is it that prompts that 
 thought?" Again her voice caught, but her eyes did not falter. 
 
 "I will tell you. It is not nobility it is not sacrifice but pride." 
 She said the word fearlessly. 
 
 A flush crossed Loder's face. 
 
 "A man requires pride," he said in a low voice. 
 
 "Yes; at the right time. But is this the right time? Is it ever
 
 254 JOHN CHILCOTE; OR, 
 
 right to throw away the substance for the shadow ? You say that 
 I don't understand don't realize ; I realize more to-night than 
 I have realized in all my life. I know that you have an oppor- 
 tunity that can never come again and that it's terribly possible 
 to let it slip " 
 
 She paused. Loder sat with his hands resting on the closed 
 doors of the cab, his eyes averted, his head bent. 
 
 "Only to-night," she went on, "you told me that everything 
 was crying to you to take the easy, pleasant way. Then, it was 
 strong to turn aside ; but now it is not strong. It is far nobler 
 to fill an empty niche than to carve one for yourself. John " 
 she suddenly leant forward, laying her hands over his. "Mr. 
 Fraide told me to-night that in his new Ministry my my hus- 
 band was to be Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs!" 
 
 The words fell softly. So softly that to ears less comprehend- 
 ing than Loder's their significance might have been lost as his 
 own rigid attitude and unresponsive manner might have con- 
 veyed lack of understanding to any eyes less observant than Eve's. 
 
 For a long space no word was spoken. At last, with a very 
 gentle pressure, her fingers tightened over his hands. 
 
 "John " she began. But the word died away. She drew back 
 into her seat, as the cab stopped before Chilcote's house. 
 
 Simultaneously as they descended, the hall-door was opened 
 and a flood of warm light opured out reassuringly into the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 "I thought it was your cab, sir," Crapham explained deferen- 
 tially as they passed into the hall. "Mr. Fraide has been waiting 
 to see you this half-hour. I showed him into the study." He 
 closed the door swiftly and retired. 
 
 Then, in the warm light, amidst the gravely dignified sur- 
 roundings that had marked his first entry into this hazardous 
 second existence, Eve turned to Loder for the verdict upon which 
 the future hung. 
 
 As she turned his face was still hidden from her, and his atti- 
 tude betrayed nothing. 
 
 "John," she said slowly, "y u know why Mr. Fraide is here. 
 You know that he has come to personally offer you this position ; 
 to personally receive your refusal or consent." 
 
 She ceased to speak; there was a moment of suspense; then 
 Loder turned. His face was still pale and grave, with the gravity 
 of a man who has but recently been close to death ; but beneath 
 the gravity was another look ; the old expression of strength and 
 self-reliance tempered, raised and dignified by a new humility. 
 
 Moving forward, he held out his hands. 
 
 "My consent or refusal," he said very quietly, "lies with my 
 wife." 
 
 [THE END.]
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
 UN1619 
 
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