"Suppose when it blew over it should be a cyclone and you and me in the cellar? No siree, I'm no sitter-down. I'm a fighter, even when I fight in secret. Damn this feller, Percival, and his gift for making friends and stirring up enthusiasm for himself! I suspect he has ambitions. So much the worse for him, if James Murdock is in the ring against him. Do you know my inferences? I am sure he is not one of the invulnerables. The fact that he made a concession to Barry gives him away. He didn't need to. If Barry can work him by a little flattery and an appeal to their shoddy friendship, he's not one of your out-and-out, no-compromise, reform-or-die fellows. Say, Early, you know him well. Can't you get at him?" Mr. Early gave one of those roundabout motions that suggest a desire to wriggle out of the whole matter, and answered slowly: "I shouldn't wonder if the entire business petered out, anyway. It's almost a year to the next election, and Percival is going to be married in a few weeks to a pretty little girl, who would never stir a man's ambitions to anything more than a smart carriage and pair. He's turned idiotic about her, and let's hope he'll stay so. Just at present I don't believe all the boodle and graft in the world would turn a hair on him. Love and politics, my boy, are no more congenial than water and oil--especially if the politics is rancid." "We'll have to go into partnership with the lady to keep him down," said Murdock with a grin. "I've formed more unlikely alliances than that in my time. Why, good Lord! what's that?" he exclaimed for the second time that night. His eyes had fallen upon a tall white column at the back of the room, and at his words the column moved forward and displayed the flowing robes, the snowy white turban, the gleaming ruby of Ram Juna. "Pardon my interruption," said the Hindu courteously. "I have been out. I am but just returned. And I come to assure myself that all is well with my admirable host." "Ah, Murdock, this is my friend, the Swami. He's going to stay with me while he writes a book. I've given him the west ell, off in the quiet of the garden, you know," said Mr. Early. "With kindness you give it. Obligation is mine," said the Swami, with a deferential movement of his hands. "And I go at once to devote myself to my greatest work. But now I have visited a lady, Mrs. Appleton, who has great interest in me, and who desires to form what she calls a class. I call it, rather, a circle of my friends." "And what do you do with them?" asked Mr. Murdock, with the same bald curiosity that one displays at the zoo before the performing seals. "We increase the sum of nobility in the world," said the Swami softly. "We sit together in long white robes, such as you see on me, and we pour out love upon the universe." "Oh!" said Mr. Murdock. He was too astonished to pursue his investigations. "It is a serene and blessed occupation," said the Swami.