It was not to be supposed that the Agency, so catholic, so philanthropic, so disinterested in its labours, and withal so boundlessly endowed, would long escape the notice of those social powers, which, through all changes of creed and government, work steadily on in the cause of the human decencies. With these Gilead’s name was soon to become an almost apostolic one, and gradually, as he proceeded on his way, the executive, the police, the Home Office itself became his informal allies. A latitude was permitted him in the matter of technical infringements of the law, and he was made secure against official and officious interference. In his clean and fearless spirit of Knight-errantry, he probably realized little of the indulgence granted him, and, in cases where his way was made inexplicably smooth, accounted the fact to nothing more than the inherent rightness of things. On more than one occasion, indeed, Scotland Yard flagrantly abetted him in acts which, strictly speaking, were illegal. But then, if it had withheld its support, a scoundrelism or so would have prospered. It is true that Gilead was accustomed to give practical expression to his admiration of the force in princely gifts to its charities and awards to individual merit; but I for one will not believe that such generosity would, if construed into bribery, have induced it to condone for a moment a real offence in him. The police favoured him because he contributed, and contributed largely, to their power for good. One morning the following advertisement, thumb-marked by the Secretary for his consideration, engaged Gilead’s attention:-- “_In despair. A young man, in urgent need of £_50, _asks the help of the rich and benevolent to save him from complete ruin. No repayment; but will give services in any capacity required._” The usual reference number followed. Gilead thought a moment, then looked up. “This, Nestle,” said he, “is hardly out of the common.” “Hardly, sir,” replied the secretary. “Only the offer of services guarantees it as genuine. But if you would rather it went through the ordinary channels--” “No,” said Gilead. “If you have nothing better to offer, I will take it. Romance, after all, must walk sometimes on the highway, if we have the eyes to distinguish her. I will undertake this, Nestle.” He requested Miss Halifax to make an appointment with the advertiser to call on the morning next but one, and there left the matter for the time being. At the hour specified the expected visitor arrived, and was shut in to his interview with the head, Miss Halifax, as usual, being present. Gilead’s ready sympathy was awakened on his first sight of the young man, who, in addition to a nervous white complexion and troubled eyes, was disfigured by the loss of his right hand, the place of which was supplied by a stump and hook.