The Devil, stung beyond endurance, grappled and closed. They wrestled magnificently and it was fifty-fifty--as it always is with devils and angels in this world--when the Angel began to get the worst of it. The Devil, though shorter, was in far better training--humanity had seen to that--and he was pressing the Angel down, when the Angel, without scruple, began to increase his size and strength prodigiously, till he towered above the poor Devil like a giant and half broke his back. "You're cheating!" gasped the Devil. "You're working a miracle!" "Anything's fair with devils!" said that most unjust Angel. With which words he transferred himself into the sixth dimension, and the Devil, snubbed, angered, disappointed, impotent to revenge himself, burning to be eased by some ill deed, flew through the night to the Duchess's--it was only four miles--and inspired her with the odious thought that she should start yet another league for bothering the poor. After such beastly solace he went back for the moment to his own place. CHAPTER ELEVEN During dinner Mr. Collop was not silent. In vain did the Home Secretary indicate to his servant by a grimace that Mr. Collop's wine should be spared. Mr. Collop had all the assurance of his breeding, and when he wanted more wine he asked for it. It added, if that were possible, to his remarkable courage. That night was forever memorable to all those present for the instructive lecture which he delivered upon the habits of the people of Bogotar. They all inwardly suffered, or chuckled, as their temperaments demanded. Vic ignored Marjorie's eyes and shamefully stayed on at table as late as possible to carry the torture forward. The men did not stop long over their wine--for by that name I deign to call the beverage. The evening passed as on a rack for most, while Mr. Collop roared busily of Bogotar, with many a droll tale and many a gesture of large effect to underline it. Once more Vic stuck it out. She was in heaven. She egged the Startler on. She asked question after question on the famous oil-town of the Pearson Contracts. She even asked about the women's love affairs and the British prospectors' entanglements in that ill-known resort. The Master of the House had to force the situation. "I am going to ask you," said the Home Secretary, rather pompously, "to excuse me for the rest of the evening. I have to talk of very important matters with Mr. Collop. We shall be closeted together, I fear, till the small hours of the morning; and I beg that you will not think me discourteous." The only one of the clot to whom this public speech could possibly be addressed--all the rest were of the Family--was the lately unfortunate, but now radiant, McTaggart. But it is a politician's habit to be pompous whenever he gets the least excuse, and McTaggart was the excuse. "On official business connected with the ... ah, with the ... well ... it would not be to the public interest to say precisely."