Christopher was in France when he saw the notice of Peter Masters' death in the papers, and he was more staggered by it than he cared to admit to himself. The millionaire had been knocked down at a busy crossing with no more ceremony than would have served for his poorest workman. He had been carried to the nearest hospital and died there almost directly, alone, as he had lived. There was the usual hasty account of his life, but by some magic that had perhaps root in Peter's own will, no mention was made of his marriage. Christopher wrote home on the subject this-wise: "It seems to me the more terrible since I think he was a man who never believed any such mischance could dare to happen to him. He always gave me the impression of one who read his own mortality for immortality, and was prepared to rule Time as arbitrarily as he ruled men. It does not look to an outsider as if he had gained any particular happiness from his fortune, but happiness is a word everyone spells in their own way.... I shall be back at the end of the week, for I find Marcel quite capable of finishing this piece of work...." Such was the epitaph pronounced over Peter Masters by his own son, and Aymer, reading, sank beneath the dead weight of responsibility that was his. The outcome of neutrality can be as great a force as that of action, and to assume the right to stand aside is to play as decisive a part as the fiercest champion. Nevertheless he held to that neutral attitude through the pangs of self-reproach. There was no will, Mr. Aston told him, when he returned from the plain business-like affair of the funeral. The news, incredible as it was, was yet a respite to Aymer. He did not trouble to conceal it. "But I am certain Saunderson knows something. Do not count on it, Aymer." "I count every chance in my favour," returned Aymer deliberately. "I discount even your belief that Peter knew, since he said nothing." Mr. Aston looked at him sadly. He had no such hope, nor was he even certain he was justified in seconding Caesar's wish that the fortune should pass Christopher by. The nearer the great thing came to them the more difficult was it to ignore the vastness of the interests involved, and the greater the responsibility of those who stood motionless between Christopher and it. Yet Mr. Aston knew as well as Aymer that neither of them would move from their position, and if they had acted wrongly in following the wishes of the dead woman in preference to the material instincts of the living man, they must accept the result, and Christopher must accept it, too. But he felt keenly Aymer's failure to present an unbiassed face to the turn of circumstances. "How long will it be before Saunderson acts if he has any clue to go on?" Aymer asked wearily after a long silence.