He crossed the square and let himself into his house with a latch-key. He crossed the panelled hall and flung his hat and cane upon a table and hurried up the stairway to his study. He had been interrupted in his correspondence by the Prime Minister's summons, and now he was anxious to be done with it, and be free to contemplate the new situation in the light of those many purposes he had in view. As he sat down at his desk the door in the oak panelling at the far end of the room was thrust open and his secretary appeared. In a few moments these two were absorbed in their work with a thoroughness which was characteristic of Ruxton. Thus for two hours and more the memory of his promotion was completely thrust into the background. The butler had just brought him in a tray of afternoon tea, and the two men took the opportunity to abandon their work for a few minutes' leisure. Ruxton leant back in his chair and lit a cigar, while the secretary lit a cigarette and poured out the tea. "Our labors have borne fruit, Heathcote," said Ruxton, seizing the moment to impart his good news. "We are raised from the rank and file. Our future lies on the front benches." "The Cabinet?" "Yes, the Cabinet." Nor could Ruxton quite control the delight surging through him. "Now we begin to see the development of all those long-laid plans we have so ceaselessly worked upon, Heathcote," he went on. "Now we are getting nearer to the position which will enable us to bring about something of that security for this old country for which we both so ardently long. Now--Heathcote--now!" There was a passionate triumph underlying the idealist's words which found ample reflection in the dark eyes of the keen-faced secretary. The Honorable Harold Heathcote, a younger son in an old English family, had been Ruxton's secretary from the beginning of his political career; he was a brilliant youngster who had determined upon a political career for himself, and had, with considerable shrewdness, pinned his faith to the banner which, from the beginning of his career, Ruxton Farlow had unfurled for himself. These two men were working for a common purpose. "I knew it would come, Mr. Farlow," said Heathcote with cordial enthusiasm. "And there'll be more to follow, or I have no understanding of the times. I am glad. Very glad." At that moment there was a knock at the door, and Heathcote rose to answer it. When he returned he handed two telegrams to his chief. "Telegrams," he said laconically, and returned to his seat and to his tea. Ruxton ran a paper knife through the envelopes. The first message was from his father. It was brief, cordial, but urgent. "Heartiest congratulations. Immensely delighted. Must see you at once. Inventor turned out most important as well as mysterious.--Farlow." Ruxton read the message over two or three times. Then he deliberately tore it up into small pieces and dropped it in the waste-paper basket.