Jones took the letter and went with it to the room where he had sat that morning. Upon the table lay all the letters that he had not opened that morning. He had forgotten these. Here was a mistake. If he wished to hold to his position for even a few days, it would be necessary to guard against mistakes like this. He hurriedly opened them, merely glancing at the contents, which for the most part were unintelligible to him. There was a dinner invitation from Lady Snorries--whoever she might be--and a letter beginning "Dear old Boy" from a female who signed herself "Julie," an appeal from a begging letter writer, and a letter beginning "Dear Rochester" from a gentleman who signed himself simply "Childersley." The last letter he opened was the one he had just received from the servant. It was written on poor paper, and it ran: "Stick to it--if you can. You'll see why I couldn't. There's a fiver under the papers of the top right hand drawer of bureau in smoke room. "ROCHESTER." Jones knew that this letter, though addressed to the Earl of Rochester, was meant for him, and was written by Rochester, written probably on some bar counter, and posted at the nearest pillar box just before he had committed the act. He went to the drawer in the bureau indicated, raised the papers in it and found a five pound note. Having glanced at it he closed the drawer, placed the note in his waistcoat pocket and sat down again at the table. "Stick to it--if you can." The words rang in his ears just as though he had heard them spoken. Those words, backed by the five pound note, wrought a great change in the mind of Jones. He had Rochester's permission to act as he was acting, and a little money to help him in his actions. The fact of his penury had been like a wet blanket upon him all day. He felt that power had come to him with permission. He could think clearly now. He rose and paced the floor. "Stick to it--if you can." Why not--why not--why not? He found himself laughing out loud, a great gush of energy had come to him. Jones was a man of that sort, a new and great idea always came to him on the crest of a wave of energy; the British Government Contract idea had come to him like that, and the wave had carried him to England. Why not be the Earl of Rochester, make good his position finally, stand on the pinnacle where Fate had placed him, and carry this thing through to its ultimate issue? It would not be all jam. Rochester must have been very much pressed by circumstances; that did not frighten Jones, to him the game was everything, and the battle. He would make good where Rochester had failed, meet the difficulties that had destroyed the other, face them, overcome them. His position was unassailable.