Fata Morgana we christened our City, after the mirage in the Straits of Messina; for it had that mixture of clear outline and unsubstantiality which seemed to fit the name. So we planned the future together out of such stuff as dreams are made on. And behind us, grim and silent, sat Nordenholt, the real architect of the coming time. * * * * * He never interrupted our talks; and I had no idea that he had even overheard them until one day he called me into his office. He seemed unusually grave. “Sit down, Jack,” he said, and I started slightly to hear him use the name, since hitherto I had always been simply “Flint” to him. “I’ve got something serious to discuss with you; and it won’t keep much longer.” He looked up at the great Nitrogen Curve above the mantelpiece and seemed to brood over the inclinations of the red and green lines upon it. They were closing upon one another now, though some distance still separated them. “Did it ever occur to you that I can’t go on for ever?” “Well, I suppose that none of us can go on for ever; but I don’t think I would worry too much over that, Nordenholt. Of course you’re doing thrice the work that I am; but I don’t see much sign of it affecting you yet.” “Have a good look.” He swung round to the light so that I could see his face clearly; and it dawned upon me that it was very different from the face I had seen first at the meeting in London. The old masterfulness was there, increased if anything; but the leanness was accentuated over the cheek-bones and there was a weary look in the eyes which was new to me. I had never noticed the change, even though I saw him daily--possibly because of that very fact. The alteration had been so gradual that it was only by comparing him with what I remembered that I could trace its full extent. “Satisfied, eh?” “Well, there is a change, certainly; but I don’t think it amounts to much.” “The inside is worse than the surface, I’m afraid. But don’t worry about that. I’ll last the distance, I believe. It’s what will happen after the finish that is perplexing me now.” I muttered something which I meant to be encouraging. “Well, have it your own way, if you like,” he replied; “but I _know_. I have enough energy to see me through this stage of the thing; but this is only a beginning. After it, comes reconstruction; and I shall be exhausted by that time. I can carry on under this strain long enough to see safety in sight; but someone else must take up the burden then. I won’t risk doing it myself. I must have a fresh mind on the thing. So I have to cast about me now for my successor.”