"Well, we needn't wait an hour longer. You can have my trap to drive to St. Hilary. Let some lawyer whom you can trust act for you." "Won't you go with me?" Ralph questioned eagerly. "You see, the question of security will come up first thing." "It would be almost better if you could keep out of sight altogether." "I know it. Couldn't you see the whole thing through for me?" "I might try." Half an hour later Ralph had sent word to Ruth that he would not be home till evening, and was driving away with William Menire in the direction of St. Hilary. They were both too excited to talk much. Ralph felt as though the whole universe were trembling in the balance. If he failed, there would be nothing left worth considering. If he succeeded, paradise threw open her gates to him. Far away beyond the hills there was a great city called London, and in that city dwelt one who was more to him than all the world beside. She was out of his reach because he was poor and nameless and obscure. But if he won for himself a position, what was to hinder him from wooing her, and perhaps winning her? Money for its own sake he cared nothing for. The passion for position had never been a factor in his life. He loved beautiful things--art and music and literature--partly from instinct, and partly because he had been educated to appreciate them, but there was not an ounce of snobbery in his composition. He had no reverence for rank as such, or for mere social position, but he had sense enough to recognise their existence, and the part they played in the evolution of the race. He could not get rid of things by shutting his eyes to their existence. So they drove along the quiet road mainly in silence. Each was busy with his own thoughts. Each had a secret that he dared not reveal to the other. "I believe you will win," William said abruptly after a long interval of silence. "I always said you would." "Win?" Ralph questioned absently, for he was thinking of Dorothy Hamblyn at the time. "Your father was a shrewd man where mineral was concerned." "Yes. And yet he loved corn and cows far more than copper and tin." "I wouldn't mind being in your place." "You would not be afraid of the risk?" "No. I would like it." "Then let's go shares!" Ralph said eagerly. "It's what I've wanted all along, but did not like to propose it." "You really mean it?" "My dear fellow, it is what I would desire above everything else! You have business capacity, and I haven't a scrap." "If I were sure I could help you." "We should help each other; but the gain would be chiefly mine." "Partnerships don't always turn out well," William said reflectively. "I'll gladly risk it," Ralph answered, with a laugh. William dropped his driving whip into the socket and reached across his hand. It was his way of sealing the contract. Ralph seized it in a moment. "This is the proudest day of my life!" William said. And there were distinct traces of emotion in his voice.