than myself might well fall. This Christine--yes--yes--I have to be on
my guard."

"I have nothing to do with God," Robert said gently. "I'm a friend--on
your side. I'd like to help. If I knew where you lived so that I
could learn more about your work----"

But Mr. Ricardo shrank away from him.

"I don't like the sound of that. I dare say I do you an injustice,
young man, but I can't afford to take risks. My headquarters are my
secret."

"Well"--he tried to speak in a matter-of-fact and reasonable way--"at
any rate, a general must have munition. I'd like to help financially.
You can't refuse me that."

They were almost through the labyrinth of Soho and on the brink of
Oxford Street. Mr. Ricardo stopped again with his hand spread out flat
upon his breast in a gesture not without power and dignity.

"You think I am a failure, sir, because I go poorly dressed. You are
mistaken. In the struggle that I am carrying on, outward and material
things are of no account. I might have all the wealth and all the
armies of the world, sir, and be further from victory than I am now.
The fight is here, sir, in the spirit of man, and the weaker and poorer
I become the nearer I am to the final effort. I am a fighter, sir,
stripping himself--presently I shall throw off the last hindrance, and
if the enemy will not show himself I shall seek him out--I shall force
him to stand answer----" He broke off. The chain of white-hot