As things turned out, this week-end plan chimed very well with the course of events. Thursday was the day of the Hellington meeting; it was also the day of Helen’s powerfully disturbing talk with Saul Hartz. And at the breakfast table on Friday morning, when she opened her _Planet_ prior to setting out for the Office, she received a further shock. Two heavy captions on the paper’s front page at once caught her eye: RIOT AT HELLINGTON M. P.’S MEETING BROKEN UP It was no more than she expected. John had been refused a hearing. Missiles had been thrown, and, finally, a hostile mob had stormed the platform. Moreover, in the course of the fierce _mêlée_ which had followed, the would-be speaker had sustained an injury to his head. On the way to the Office, Helen’s first act was to telegraph to Wyndham for fuller particulars. The three hours which had to elapse before a reply came were spent in great bitterness of spirit. John might or might not be sorely hurt, but this harsh sequel to the wrong he had already suffered was going to make it very difficult to forgive the authors of the mischief. Precisely who those authors were, Helen, as yet, was in a position only to surmise. The whole thing was a cruel blunder on the part of the U. P. And yet, as far as Helen was concerned, the real tragedy lay in Saul Hartz’s defense of it. As soon as she reached the Office, she at once pointed out to the Chief what had happened. He professed a sincere regret and promised that Mr. Endor’s denial of his misreported Blackhampton speech, which had provoked the trouble, should be immediately circulated. “But one understood,” said Helen, “that the contradiction was to appear this morning.” “You are quite right,” said the Chief, with a fine appearance of candor. “Presently I will go into the whole matter with Mr. Gage and Mr. Fuller and Mr. Bryant. They are entitled to stand their ground. One feels for them--in fact, one quite sympathizes with their attitude--but they must not ignore instructions. Mr. Endor’s contradiction, as I have already promised you, shall be given full publicity.” “Too late, I’m afraid, to be of the slightest use now,” said Helen, bitterly. “We’ll hope not,” said the Chief, with an oleaginous purr. “It’s never too late to repair an indiscretion.” But Helen’s temper showed a rising insurgency. “To my mind,” she said, “the whole thing is indefensible. It’s a blunder or worse, on the part of somebody.”