Mr Burden, meanwhile, who was chiefly acquainted with the narrow world of business, read such delay to mean that his colleagues were yet uncertain. At moments he feared some governmental interference acting through the powerful connection of Lord Benthorpe; at others he regretted the enthusiasm he had shown at Placton for the new scheme. As the days passed, he grew into a feverish and restless state, very favourable for the due fruition of Mr Barnett’s plans; and while I am bound to regret the pain which such a process inevitably caused my old friend, I am none the less constrained to admit its ultimate wisdom. Without some exercise of discipline, no organiser can marshal his forces; and it is to Mr Barnett’s honour, that he never pursued such a method beyond the limits strictly necessary to the mutual benefit of himself and of the friends he would acquire. Three weeks went by, and Mr Burden had worked himself into a state of nervous irritation pitiful for any to behold save those who, like his son, were aware of the ultimate advantage to which it would lead. The merchant no longer mentioned the M’Korio directly, but he continually brought home new books upon that river; he purchased a new atlas; he visited upon two occasions the rooms of ill-frequented museums. His dignity, which prevented him from betraying to Cosmo his immeasurable anxieties, did not debar him from a ceaseless conversation which was unnatural and strange in him; he spoke of Oxford, of Placton, of geography, of the Roman Empire, of savages, of command of the sea, of governing races, of the _Times_ newspaper, of wars. And, all the while, Cosmo, with tenacious care, warded off every allusion that pointed to the forbidden subject; under his indefatigable calm, his imperturbable goodhumour, his father’s health threatened to give way. In early May a coincidence brought to maturity this period of preparation. Mr Burden saw in the _Times_ (which paper he read at breakfast) that a German company designed to acquire concessions in the Delta; in the full agony of this news, he learnt—upon the same morning—that Cosmo would meet Mr Barnett at luncheon. The father and the son went into town together. The morning was not without tension. Towards one o’clock came the moment when the tension could no longer endure. There was perfect restraint and good feeling in the little scene. Cosmo took his hat in the office, and remembered to say that he should be a trifle late in returning, because he expected Mr Barnett would appear at the club. Just as he went out, his father, with unnatural joviality, suggested that they should lunch together—they so rarely lunched together. Cosmo’s hesitation was not noticeable. Mr Burden rose; and so, for the second time, he came to, and was not sought by, Imperial things.