“This is the heroic work we need so much in England. They are not nearly so timid in other countries as we are. We must have a policy of ‘thorough,’ or we shall be left behind.” And he set his lips firmly, and looked as though henceforth his patients were going to have “a bad time.” Mr. Mole was doing all his little best to bring about this scientific millennium, but just then was not able to produce the results of his work, as the time was not ripe for his revelations. CHAPTER XLI. THE TRIUMPH OF MR. MOLE. There came a respite to her pain; She from her prison fled.—_Wordsworth._ Those natures that are sanguinary towards beasts discover a natural propension to cruelty. After they had accustomed themselves at Rome to spectacles of the slaughter of animals, they proceeded to those of the slaughter of men the freer.—_Montaigne._ One day in November Mr. Mole received a little note by the hand of a small boy, who said he had just come from Mr. Crowe’s. It was from Spriggs, and in these words: “DEAR MR. WALTER,— “Do come here at once if you anyways can, for poor missus has just expired in agonies awful for to behold. I have done just as you told me, and I will only give them into your own hands for fear of mistakes. Do pray come soon. I am in such a fluster, though I have expected it for a week or more. “Your affectionate friend, “JANET SPRIGGS.” The half pound or so of striated involuntary muscle which in Mr. Mole did duty for a heart was thrown into a state of agitation by this epistle. He must be off to Mr. Crowe’s residence at once.