"You fellows don't seem to care," observed Constantine Blair moodily, "but I tell you we're out for four or five years at least." There was a pause; the accused persons looked at one another; then Marchmont had the courage to observe that the country would perhaps live through the period of calamity before it. "The country, yes, but how about some of the party?" asked Morewood. "How about that, Blair? You're supposed to be the man who feeds the ravens and providently caters for the sparrows, you know. You'll have your hands full, I should think." Blair's look expressed the opinion that they trenched on mysteries; he had these little traits of self-importance, sitting funnily on a round and merry face. Marchmont laughed as he turned to Dick and enquired after Jimmy. "He was helping you, I suppose?" "Yes, after Quisante was in. He's all right." Dick's tone was slightly reserved. "Did Quisante help you? He seems to have helped everybody; the man ran about like an electric current." "I didn't ask him to come to me. I felt, you know----" "Yes, I see. But Jimmy didn't?" Dick looked rather puzzled. "I don't quite make Jimmy out about Quisante," he remarked. "He worked for him like a horse all the time, and wrote me letters praising him to the skies. Then when he was in and everybody was cracking him up Jimmy wouldn't open his mouth about him--seemed not to like the subject, you know." Nobody spoke; they had heard rumours of an event which would bring Jimmy into new relations with Quisante, and they waited for possible information. But Dick did not go on, so it was left to Morewood to make the necessary intrusion into private affairs; he did it willingly, with a malicious grin. "Thinking him over in the light of a relation, perhaps?" he suggested. "It would only be a connection anyhow," Dick corrected rather sharply. "Oh, if that comforts you!" said Morewood, laughing. "She's a charming girl and I'm awfully glad it's come off." "Oh, it has?" asked Marchmont. "Yes, the other day." "And you're glad in spite of----?" "Yes, I am. Besides I don't mean anything of that sort. I suppose I know as well as anybody what Quisante is." "As far as I'm concerned I'll admit you do, and still feel you don't know much," remarked the Dean. "Well, I wish there were more men like him," said Blair, nodding vigorously. "Some men would sacrifice anything for their party," remarked Morewood.