But though Flaxman was a man of the world, he was by no means a worldling. Tenderly, unflinchingly, with a modest and cheerful devotion, he had made himself the stay of his brother-in-law Elsmere's harassed and broken life. His supreme and tyrannical common sense had never allowed him any delusions as to the ultimate permanence of heroic ventures like the New Brotherhood; and as to his private opinions on religious matters it is probable that not even his wife knew them. But outside the strong affections of his personal life there was at least one enduring passion in Flaxman which dignified his character. For liberty of experiment, and liberty of conscience, in himself or others, he would gladly have gone to the stake. Himself the loyal upholder of an established order, which he helped to run decently, he was yet in curious sympathy with many obscure revolutionists in many fields. To brutalize a man's conscience seemed to him worse than to murder his body. Hence a constant sympathy with minorities of all sorts; which no doubt interfered often with his practical efficiency. But perhaps it accounted for the number of his friends. * * * * * "We shall, I presume, be undisturbed?" The speaker was Henry Barron; and he and Flaxman stood for a moment surveying each other after their first greeting. "Certainly. I have given orders. For an hour if you wish, I am at your disposal." "Oh, we shall not want so long." Barron seated himself in the chair pointed out to him. His portly presence, in some faultlessly new and formal clothes, filled it substantially; and his colour, always high, was more emphatic than usual. Beside him, Flaxman made but a thread-paper appearance. "I have come on an unpleasant errand"--he said, withdrawing some papers from his breast pocket--"but--after much thought--I came to the conclusion that there was no one in this neighbourhood I could consult upon a very painful matter, with greater profit--than yourself." Flaxman made a rather stiff gesture of acknowledgment. "May I ask you to read that?" Barron selected a letter from the papers he held and handed it to his host. Flaxman read it. His face changed and worked as he did so. He read it twice, turned it over to see if it contained any signature, and returned it to Barron. "That's a precious production! Was it addressed to yourself?" "No--to Dawes, the colliery manager. He brought it to me yesterday." Flaxman thought a moment. "He is--if I remember right--with yourself, one of the five aggrieved parishioners in the Meynell case?" "He is. But he is by no means personally hostile to Meynell--quite the contrary. He brought it to me in much distress, thinking it well that we should take counsel upon it, in case other documents of the same kind should be going about." "And you, I imagine, pointed out to him the utter absurdity of the charge, advised him to burn the letter and hold his tongue?"