Nick Ordith clearly perceived his own weakness. He wished that Margaret, the girl, were less important to him, and that he could regard her as no more than a link with Ibble’s and a beneficiary under her father’s will. This amalgamation was to be a big affair, and he would have preferred to approach it with a cool head--with a head, that is, not inflamed by any passion that disputed his customarily perfect control. But, though you bind the Devil hand and foot, he will lash you with his tail. All Nick’s care to restrict every tendency in him that might interfere with his material success could not prevent him from losing command a little in Margaret’s presence, and he knew that some day, at a moment when he least expected it, that command might break down altogether. He thrilled at her touch; he thought of her at night when he ought to have been thinking of fire-control instruments. And he knew he stood in danger of revealing all this. Women, a few women, had so twisted him before. He had no confidence in his ability to handle Margaret as if she were built of the cool ivory of a chess-piece. She was young--ten years his junior, and she was unspoiled. Youth and the unspoiled had for him an attraction more powerful than his will. There might come a time when he would lose the game as a result of his reluctance to sacrifice his Queen. Certainly she would exercise an undue influence upon his strategy. He determined to dance with her that Saturday night as often as he dared neglect more urgent business, and at dinner primed himself for brilliance. Mr. Hartfeld of the Foreign Office and Mr. Street of the Admiralty were present, and treated him with more deference than the ordinary naval officer has a right to expect from Government Departments. Mr. Fane-Herbert established himself with his back to the smoking-room fire when dinner was over, smiling at Street, Hartfeld, and Ordith, and glaring at Hugh until he suggested that he and John should go and play billiards. At last the four great men were left alone to discuss the prospects of the Empire overseas. The detail of their conversation is not for the ears of the less fortunate who hold no stock in armament firms, but the spirit of it may be revealed in its conclusion. “Of course,” said Mr. Fane-Herbert, “it is understood that we shall act with the greatest reserve. Ordith’s presence out there will appear accidental--or at any rate, whatever they may think, no one will dare to say that it is otherwise. He will be my friend and personal adviser--in no way personally interested.” “The Foreign Office has nothing to do with it,” said Hartfeld. “Nor the Admiralty,” Street echoed. Street flicked the ash from his cigarette. “It is of the utmost importance that we should be committed to nothing.” “But we can rely upon your support?” Hartfeld nodded. “Speaking for myself alone; I can’t answer for others.” “Isn’t that a little nebulous?” Ordith asked.