The sweet salt days sped along, and the shores of England appeared. That meant the home of Moseley. Yet why should he single out one name or one country? He no longer saw nation pitted against nation, but the race pitted against the reticence of God. To Marvin the advance of physics and chemistry was the most exciting thing on earth. The researchers were watching each other, checking each other, helping each other, bound to tell the exact truth no matter where it led. The two sciences were steadily becoming one science, and the great advance continued day by day as if one infinite reluctant mind were slowly revealing itself. He longed to visit certain laboratories, especially one at Cambridge and one at Manchester. Thomson and Rutherford were like scouts on the advance line. When the steamer was well into the channel, past Cape de la Hogue, he thought of the ride from Ghent to Aix. The scouts were like those riders. Faraday dropped, but Maxwell went on. Maxwell dropped, but Hertz went on. Hertz dropped, but Crookes and Rayleigh and Thomson and Moseley went on. Now Crookes and Rayleigh and Moseley had dropped, but still the good horse Roland plunged ahead. And Marvin Mahan was riding a mule to Sussex. He bore the unimportant news that Chase Mahan would pay a dollar forty an acre for something like half a million acres, which he intended to sell to Asher Ferry before the buyer knew who was behind the deal. Chapter 57. Lanthanum Once on shore at Southampton he secured telephonic communication with the baron’s secretary. He was informed that he could be received in about three hours, which would give his lordship’s solicitors time to motor down from London. The appointment being made, he searched out a bookshop and bought the volume which he had promised to buy. He became so interested that he read it all the way in the motor, letting the fields of Sussex go unobserved. He closed it only when his car turned in to a fine old park where he caught a glimpse of fallow deer and remembered poor Sempronia. The house was much older than the title, and had a moat. He stepped from the car and told his driver to wait. He turned to mount the first flight up the terrace, and noted a fine figure of a man coming down. “Why, Captain Mahan!” “Why, Mr. Brinkerhoff!” The British swell was only the Chicago lawyer. There was not a better lawyer or a more expensive one. “Beautiful old place, captain.” “Wonderful, Mr. Brinkerhoff. I’m sorry I didn’t come before.” The lawyer touched his small gray mustache and drew his hand across his smooth chin. “The outside view is more pleasing, on the whole, than the inside.” “Mr. Brinkerhoff, I’m a chemist I ought to be visiting a laboratory at Manchester this minute. I don’t care to be known as a real estate agent.” Mr. Brinkerhoff smiled.