But he bore it well on the face of him, however deeply the iron was thrust into his soul. It was Albemarle who for once showed excitement, Albemarle who inveighed in most unmeasured terms against the corrupt influence of the Court and the havoc it was working. “It needed a man for this office and they have constrained me to give it to a fribble, a dolly in breeches, a painted dawcock.” Holles remembered Tucker’s denunciations of the present government and began to realize at last how right he was and how justified he and his associates might be of their conviction that the people were ready to rise and sweep this Augean stable clean. Albemarle was seeking to comfort him with fresh hope. No doubt something else would offer soon. “To be snatched up again by some debt-ridden pimp who wants to escape his creditors,” said Holles, his tone betraying at last some of the bitterness fermenting in his soul. Albemarle stood sorrowfully regarding him. “This hits you hard, Randal, I know.” The Colonel recovered and forced a laugh. “Pooh! Hard hits have mostly been my portion.” “I know.” Albemarle paced to the window and back, his head sunk between his shoulders. Then he came to a halt before the Colonel. “Keep me informed of where you are lodged, and look to hear from me again as soon as may be. Be sure that I will do my best.” The Colonel’s glance kindled again. It was a flicker of the expiring flame of hope. “You really think that something else will offer?” His grace paused before answering, and, in the pause, the sorrowful gravity of his face increased. “To be frank with you, Randal, I hardly dare to _think_ it. Chances for such as you are, as you understand, not ... frequent. But the unexpected may happen sooner than we dare to hope. If it does, be sure I’ll not forget you. Be sure of that.” Holles thanked him steadily, and rose to depart, his radiance quenched, despondency in every line of him. Albemarle watched from under furrowed brows. As he reached the door the Duke detained him. “Randal! A moment.” The Colonel turned and waited whilst slowly Albemarle approached him. His grace was deep in thought, and he hesitated before speaking. “You ... you are not urgently in need of money, I trust?” he said at last. The Colonel’s gesture and laugh conveyed a shamefaced admission that he was. Albemarle’s eyes considered him a moment still. Then, slowly, he drew a purse from his pocket. It was apparently a light purse. He unfastened it. “If a loan will help you until....” “No, no!” cried Holles, his pride aroused against accepting what amounted almost to alms. Even so the repudiation was no more than half-hearted. But there was no attempt from Albemarle to combat it. He did not press the offer. He drew the purse-strings tight again, and his expression was almost one of relief. CHAPTER XI A WOMAN SCORNED