“How many ages, through what æons of time this has been his lot there is no God to tell him. What mysteries he has profaned in the dim past, who shall say? But wherever the primal urge may lead, man has to follow.” She let her hand rest lightly in his. “How cold you are!” she said. “We had better go back to the house. I’m afraid you got up too soon on my account.” “Dearest--no!” Like a lover he pressed his lips upon her fingers. “I am quite well again in body. But I am what you might call a little ‘thrawn’ and it is my duty to tell you. Now that I have had this knock on the head, you’ll be taking a risk if you marry me.” The simple words in their deliberation plucked at Helen’s heart. “Don’t--don’t say that!” she gasped. “I love you too well, my darling, to keep you in the dark.” “You have a will.” Her fingers tightened upon his. “Use it, I beg you--use it!” “I must. I do. But I am in the grip of forces stronger than myself. I am called to battle with a monster. He is in my stars. And he will kill me ... unless....” “Unless?” She hung upon an answer which seemed an age in coming--an answer which in reality she had to force him to make. “I kill him.” Involuntarily his hand strayed to the bandage that had been fixed above his right eye. “It is not revenge. It is far more than that ... the job one was sent here to do ... to remove a deadly menace from this unlucky world.” Helen fixed her eyes on the drawn face of the man she loved and believed in as she said slowly, “You’ll surely do that if you don’t lose heart. One of your powers can do anything.” “Less than a week ago that was my own opinion. Since then something terrible has happened.” He forced a laugh which sounded harsh and unreal. “A knock on the head has changed all that. One realizes now what one is up against. What chance has a penny trumpet? Can it persuade the walls of Jericho to fall down? Can it drown the thunders of the U. P.?” “Surely yes, if you have faith.” “Don’t let us deceive ourselves. There are facts to face. This monster has been well called the Colossus. And his power is great. In this country, at least, he is the absolute dictator of public opinion. Controlling the wires in the way he does--nearly every newspaper in the United Kingdom has now been forced by the mere cost of its production to enter his Trust--he sways these islands from end to end. At Hellington it was incredible what a plain, uncolored lie could do in so short a time. They simply wouldn’t hear me. All morning journals had sung together. And a Fleet Street Lucifer, a twopence-daily antichrist, had composed the tune.” Grief, concern, pity were in the face of Helen.