But he had suddenly grown nervous. Now that he was face to face with his task he didn’t know how to enter upon it. The wave of indignation which had borne him as far as the library of Hart’s Ghyll had been dissipated by the presence of a suffering it was surely inhuman to embarrass. The younger man, his rare faculty of perception strung to a high pitch, saw at once the vicar’s hesitation. Like an intensely sympathetic woman, Brandon began unconsciously to help him disburden his mind of that which was trying it so sorely. At last Mr. Perry-Hennington found himself at the point where it became possible to break the ice. “My dear Gervase,” he said, “there is nothing I dislike more than having to ask you to share my troubles, but a most vexing matter has arisen, and you are the only person whose advice I feel I can take.” “I only hope I can be of use.” “Well--it’s John Smith.” The vicar took the plunge. And as he did so, he was sufficiently master of himself to watch narrowly the face of the stricken man. Brandon fixed deep eyes upon the vicar. “But he’s such a harmless fellow.” The light tone, the placid smile, told nothing. “I admit, of course, that one oughtn’t to be worried by a village wastrel.” “I challenge the term,” said Brandon with the note of airy banter which always charmed. “Not for the first time, you know. I’m afraid we shall never agree about the dear chap.” “No, I’m afraid we shall not.” The vicar could not quite keep resentment out of his voice. But in deference to a graceful and perhaps merited rebuke, the controversialist lowered his tone a little. “But let me give you the facts.” Thereupon, with a naïveté not lost upon the man in the spinal carriage, Mr. Perry-Hennington very solemnly related the incident of the white feather. Brandon said nothing, but looked at the vicar fixedly. “I hate having to worry you in this way.” Mr. Perry-Hennington watched narrowly the drawn face. “Of course it had to be followed up. At first, I’ll confess, I took it to be a mere piece of blasphemous bravado in execrable taste, but now I’ve seen the man, now I’ve talked with him, I have come to another conclusion.” The vicar saw that Brandon’s eyes were full of an intense, eager interest. “Well?” said the sufferer softly. “The conclusion I have come to is that it’s a case of paranoia.” “That is to say, you think he intended the statement to be taken literally?”