"Yet if our weaknesses are patent, no less apparent are our springs of power. Here in Doom and here alone will you find that unity of action which makes for empire. Were the Stockaders and the House People to join hands they could overwhelm us in a night, but they will not, since jealousy digs an ever-widening chasm. Moreover, it is a strong position that we hold here in this wilderness of stone, when every brick is a man. There is no need for boasting; this is the truth, as you know. "Yet there is one thing lacking--a man to lead and a brain to guide. Ulick may possess the strong arm, and doubtless I have the wits, but I fear that, like oil and water, we, too, shall never mix. Besides, I may grow weary of the business, or the time may come when I must turn my back upon it all. Yet I could not be content that chaos should reign in my stead. I must leave a man behind me, and that man is you, Constans, son of Gavan. "Nay, but hear me out. Apostate, renegade--I know what you would say. Yet what are these but words--mere words. You are alone in the world," and here for just an instant Quinton Edge dropped his eyes, although the even tones of his voice never wavered. "You owe no debt of gratitude to either Stockader or Houseman. A crust from one, a bone from the other; they would have done as much for a starving dog. You see that I have watched you longer than you have been aware. "And so I offer you the first and last of the things that all men crave. The first is love, and she who stands there is fair, else why do I find you in my garden? The last is power, and it is the world that I put under your feet." He stopped abruptly and seemed to catch at something mounting upward in his throat. Then he continued: "There is still the blood-debt between us, and I promise you it shall be paid and to the last drop. The only condition is that you must leave it to another to name the day of reckoning; that privilege belongs neither to you nor to me. Rest assured that when that day does come, I shall be ready; ay, more than ready to pay my score." Again silence fell between them for the space of a full minute. Quinton Edge turned to adjust the jabot of fine lace about his neck, and that he might have both hands free he laid upon a wicker garden table the object he had been carrying. Constans saw that it was a bunch of May-bloom, a glorious cluster of pink-and-white blossom. "I am waiting for my answer," said Quinton Edge. Constans tried to command his voice, but he could not speak, and Quinton Edge turned to Esmay: "We have both of us omitted to remember where courtesy is first due. Madam, I should have informed myself of your pleasure in this matter." "No, oh no!" she stammered. The Doomsman laughed. "Yet I must ask you to reconsider; nay, even to use what arts you possess to induce this short-sighted young gentleman to accept my generous proposition. For, mind you, there is a consequent upon his refusal--and yours."