Mrs. Lewknor, aware that negotiations had not opened auspiciously, now broached her project. Ruth, steadily ironing, never lifted her eyes. She was clearly on the defensive, suspicious in her questions, evasive and noncommittal in her replies. The Colonel became impatient. "Mrs. Caspar might accept our offer--to oblige," he said at last. Ruth deliberately laid down her iron, and challenged him: she said nothing. Mrs. Lewknor felt the tension. "Well, think it over, will you?" she said to Ruth. "There's no hurry." She went out and the Colonel followed. "That man's the biggest humbug unhung even for a Labour man," snapped the little lady viciously. "Preaching the Kingdom of Heaven on earth and then this!" "I'm not sure," replied the Colonel, "not sure. I think he's much the same as most of us--an honest man who's run off the rails." They were bicycling slowly along Victoria Drive. On the far side of the allotments right under the wall of the Downs, blue in the evening, a solitary figure was digging. "The out-cast," said the Colonel. Mrs. Lewknor dismounted from her bicycle and began wheeling it along the unfenced earthen path between the gardens, towards the digger. Ernie barely looked up, barely answered her salutation, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as he continued his labour. The lady retired along the way she had come. "There's something Christ-like about the feller," said the Colonel quietly as they reached the road. "Yes," the little lady answered. "Only he's brought his troubles on his own head." The Colonel drew up in haste. "Hullo," he said, and began to read a newspaper placard, for which class of literature he had a consuming passion. CHAPTER XXVI THE AVALANCHE MOVES The placard, seen by the Colonel, announced the opening of a new scene in the Irish tragedy. The King had summoned a Conference at Buckingham Palace in order if possible to find a solution of the difficulty. When the Conference met the King opened it in person and, speaking as a man weighed down by anxiety, told the members that for weeks he had watched with deep misgivings the trend of events in Ireland. "To-day the cry of Civil War is on the lips of the most responsible of my people," he said; and had added, so Mr. Trupp told the Colonel, in words not reported in the Press, that the European situation was so ominous as imperatively to demand a solution of our domestic differences in order that the nation might present a solid front to the world. "And I bet he knows," ended the old surgeon, as he said good-bye on the steps of the Manor-house. "I bet he does," replied the Colonel. "Thank God there's one man in the country who's above party politics." He climbed thoughtfully on to the top of the bus outside the _Star_, and, as it chanced, found himself sitting beside Ernie, who was deep in his paper and began to talk.