"You speak like a book, Hazon," said Laurence, not wondering that the other should have sized up his own case so exhaustively--not wondering, because he was an observer of human nature and a character-reader himself. Then, bitterly, "Yet that pumpkin-pated entity, the ponderous moralist, would contend that the lack of all that made life worth living was good as a stimulus to urge to exertion, and all the hollow old clap-trap." "Quite so. But how many attain to the reward--the end of the said exertion? Not one in a hundred. And then, in nine cases out of ten, how does that one do it? By fraud, and thieving, and over-reaching, and sycophancy--in short, by running through the whole gamut of the scale of rascality--rascality of the meaner kind, mark you. Then when this winner in the battle of life comes out top, the world crowns him with fat and fulsome eulogy, and falls down and worships his cheque-book, crying, 'Behold a self-made man; go thou and do likewise!'" "You've not merely hit the right nail on the head, Hazon, but you've driven it right home," said Laurence decisively, recognizing that here was a man after his own heart. Two or three days went by before Hazon felt able or inclined to leave his bed, and a good part of each was spent by Laurence sitting in the sick man's room and talking. And it may have been that the lonely man felt cheered by the companionship and the friendliness that proffered it, what time all others held aloof; or that the two were akin in ideas, or both; but henceforward a sort of intimacy struck up between them, and it was noticed that Hazon no longer went about invariably alone. Then people began to look somewhat queerly at Laurence. "You and 'the Pirate' have become quite thick together, Stanninghame," said Rainsford one day, meeting him alone. "Well, why not?" answered Laurence, rather shortly, resenting the inquisitional nature of the question. Then point blank, "See here, Rainsford. Why are you all so down on the man? What has he done, anyway?" "You needn't get your shirt out, old chap," was the answer, quite good-humouredly. "Look here, now--we are alone together--so just between ourselves. Do you notice how all of these up-country going fellows shunt him--Wheeler, for instance? and Garway, who is at your hotel, never speaks to him. And Garway, you'll admit, is as good a fellow as ever lived." "Yes, I'll own up to that. What then?" "Only this, that they know a good deal that we don't." "Well, what do they know--or say they know?" "Look here, Stanninghame," said Rainsford, rather mysteriously, "has Hazon ever told you any of his up-country experiences?" "A few--yes." "Did he ever suggest you should take a trip with him?" "We have even discussed that possibility." "Ah----!" Then Rainsford gave a long whistle, and his voice became impressive as he resumed: "Watch it, Stanninghame. From time to time other men have gone up country with Hazon, but--_not one of them has ever returned_."