“Oh, you! Hogarth looks upon you as a plaything. I do assure you, you are not taken seriously, Mr. Loveday. How should such as you know what Hogarth promises or designs? “--his cheeks trembling. And, Loveday, smiling again, though pale: “Well, if we admit the promises...but--have you accurately acquainted Hogarth with your past, sir?” “Most decidedly, sir!” “If you have not, I think he should know it”. “Your threats do not affect me, sir! In three days I shall be in Petersburg with Hogarth, and shall take a pleasure in writing you the name of the island to which I am appointed”. “In three days I also--!” He stopped: but O'Hara understood. Now the door rushed open, and in looked Harris in under-vest and drawers, beneath his arm a bundle of walkingsticks, which he had been caring and telling. And “'Ere”, he drawled, “when are you coming to 'ave that bit of cold mutton? It's past twelve o'clock as it is”. “I am coming, boy”, said O'Hara, rising with brisk obedience. “Then, come, why don't you! There were shepherds watching their pretty little flocks by night, but to leave a man watching the cold animal is a bit out. Come along!”--and O'Hara went. He reached Petersburg twelve hours before Loveday, his reason for choosing that time being his knowledge that Frankl was in Petersburg, and with him Rebekah, Frankl being in a deal with the new-régime Minister of Finance. For, as O'Hara had been asking himself the agonized question: “By what absolute _finesse_ can I, _just now_, win Hogarth?” the mere presence of Rebekah in the same city with Hogarth drew him thither. But the next day, when Loveday came, nothing had been done--no chance of _tête-a-tête_ with Hogarth: and that day was O'Hara an anxious and tremulous man, living on the tip-toe and _qui vive_ of lynx-eyed keenness. The same night at a masque at the Palace of Peterhof Loveday got a chance of dialogue with Hogarth, they seated amid greenery and coloured gleams, Hogarth groomed to the glittering glass of his shoes, his legs stretched, arm akimbo; and presently Loveday led the talk to things of the sea. “What an extraordinary activity! The British Government launches the _Peleus_ next Monday at Deptford--the first 28,000-ton war-boat; and seven cruisers on the slips. Then the French, Austro-German, Russian--” “Ha!--I know. They won't build long”. “Still the confidence?”