"Aaron," she decided, "I will be late for once. Come with me and I will take you to him. He was kind to me last night. We will go together to his house and wait till he is down. Then I will tell him how you have longed for his coming, and perhaps--" "Perhaps what?" Aaron interrupted. "You can't escape from it! You have promised. You shall take me! I am ready to go. Perhaps what?" "I was only thinking," she went on, "you find it, I know, impossible to settle down to work anywhere. But with him, if he could find something--" Aaron sprang to his feet. "I would work my fingers to the bone!" he cried. "It is a glorious idea, Julia. I have to give up the collecting--my bicycle has gone. Let us start." They went out together into the streets, thinly peopled, as yet, for it was barely six o'clock. Julia would have loitered, but her brother forced her always onward. She laughed as they arrived at the Square where Maraton lived. Every house they passed was shuttered and silent. "How absurd we are!" she murmured. "He will not be up for hours. Very likely even the servants will not be astir." "Servants!" Aaron repeated the word, frowning. She only smiled. "You mustn't be foolish, dear. Don't have prejudices. Remember that we are walking along a very narrow way. We have climbed only a few steps of the hill. He is more than half-way to the top. Things are different with him. Don't judge; only wait." She rang the bell of the house a little timidly. The door was opened without any delay by a man servant in sombre, every-day clothes. "We wish to see Mr. Maraton," Julia announced. "He is not up yet, of course, but might we come in and wait?" "Mr. Maraton is in his study, madam," the man answered. He disappeared and beckoned them, a moment or so later, to follow him. They were shown into a much smaller apartment at the rear of the house. Maraton was sitting before a desk covered with papers, with a breakfast tray by his side. He looked up at their entrance, but his face was inexpressive. He did not even smile. The sunlight died out of Julia's face, and her heart sank. "I am sorry," she began haltingly. "I ought not to have come again, I know. But it is my brother. Night and day he has thought of nothing else but your coming." Aaron seemed to have forgotten his timidity. He crossed the room and stood before Maraton's desk. His face seemed to have caught some of the freshness of the early morning. He was no longer the sallow, pinched starveling. He was like a young prophet whose eyes are burning with enthusiasm. "You have come to help us," he asserted. "You are Maraton!" "I have come to help you," Maraton replied. "I have come to do what I can. It isn't an easy task in this country, you know, to do anything, but I think in the end we shall succeed. If you are Julia Thurnbrein's brother, you should know something of the work."