"But a mask is quite a short job. It can easily be finished before lunch." This was not to be gainsaid, and the afternoon gave more than sufficient time for Geoff's other still more urgent affairs. Thus he gave in with the brief remark-- "Set to work, then." Pallister indulged in a leap of delight. "Now, Jack! How do we start? What can I do?" "First of all, hand Geoff that blouse, while I bring in the materials." Pallister seized the clean holland overall, and while Geoff removed his coat and obediently arrayed himself therein, the youth sped away to lend his indispensable assistance in the plaster-room. Soon all was ready. The long divan was drawn forward. Geoff lay down, moving his head restlessly until it was endurably at ease amid the protecting towels. Jack wrapped further cloths carefully over the fair hair, tucked yet another round his subject's neck, then set to work with cold-cream, quills and cotton wool. "Don't forget that when you raise your left hand it means 'yes,' and your right means 'no,'" he said, as he proceeded to mix the plaster with warm water. After a moment he announced, "It's all ready now." "Forge ahead, then," said Geoff cheerfully, as he noisily and ostentatiously sucked in a last draught of fresh air. Then he smiled, but seeing the first spoonful of liquid plaster approaching his face, he shut his eyes quickly, composed his features, and resigned himself to fate. After the first layer was safely on, the two strings that were required for cutting up the mask were laid in place and pressed down firmly. Then the remainder of the plaster was used. Pallister watched every stage with eager interest. "Can you hear anything now?" he queried. "Our voices even don't reach him unless we shout very loudly, but all the time he is hearing his own heart thud, thud, thudding. I know!" They waited in silence until the moment should be reached when the plaster was in a fit condition for Jack to draw up the two strings and thus divide the mask. As they sat there a slight tumult was heard in the street without. It was merely a couple of dogs fighting, yet under any circumstances Pallister found it impossible to remain impervious to external excitements. In an instant he was at the window. "Pooh! I hoped it was a mad dog, but it's only a silly fight, and now even that's over," he remarked in disgusted tones. He was turning away, when suddenly he stopped short, bent forward, then beckoned excitedly to Jack. "I say, Do come here! Hurry up and look. Don't you dare grumble at your luck again, for I'll eat my hat if here isn't your long-sought 'Belle Dame'! Isn't that just the red hair and pale little face you want?" In a second Jack was by his side. His glance followed Pallister's directing finger, and he positively gasped. "Good heavens!" he cried excitedly, staring down into the street. "It's exactly what I've been looking for! Pallister, it's like a dream!"