"You will help us to set the world to rights," he said. "Alas! that is
only a phrase, but you will help us to let in the light. Remember," he
went on, "that there may be moments of discouragement. Much of the
material we have to use, the people we have to influence, the way we
have to travel, may seem sordid, but the light is shining there all the
time, Tallente. We are not politicians. We are deliverers."

It was one of Dartrey's rare moments of genuine enthusiasm. His visitor
forgot for a moment the businesslike office with its row of telephones,
its shelves of blue books and masses of papers. He seemed to be
breathing a new and wonderful atmosphere.

"I am your man, Dartrey," he promised simply. "Make what use of me you
will."

Dartrey smiled, once more the plain, kindly man of affairs.

"To descend, then, very much to the earth," he said, "to-night you must
go to Bradford. Odames will resign to-morrow. This time," he added,
with a little smile, "I think I can promise you the Democratic support
and a very certain election."



BOOK TWO

CHAPTER I

Tallente found himself possessed of a haunting, almost a morbid feeling
that a lifetime had passed since last his car had turned out of the