“I shall never dare,” went on the stone-carver, “to get my brother away into a home. The least thought of such a thing would drive him absolutely out of his mind. He’ll have to be left to drift about like this, talking madly to everyone he meets, till something terrible happens to him. God! I could howl with rage, to think how it all might be saved if only that ass Quincunx had a little gall!” Mr. Taxater tapped the young man’s wrist with his white fingers. “I think we can put gall into him between us,” he said. “I think so, Andersen.” “You’ve got some idea, sir!” cried Luke, looking at the theologian. “For Heaven’s sake, let’s have it! I am completely at the end of my tether.” “This American who is engaged to Gladys is immensely rich, isn’t he?” enquired Mr. Taxater. “Rich?” answered Luke. “That’s not the word for it! The fellow could buy the whole of Leo’s Hill and not know the difference.” Mr. Taxater was silent, fingering the gold cross upon his watch-chain. “It remains with yourself then,” he remarked at last. “What!” cried the astonished Luke. “I happen to be aware,” continued the diplomatist, calmly, “that there is a certain fact which our friend from Ohio would give half his fortune to know. He certainly would very willingly sign the little document for it, that would put Mr. Quincunx and Miss Traffio into a position of complete security. It is only a question of ‘the terrain of negotiation,’ as we say in our ecclesiastical circles.” Luke Andersen’s eyes opened very widely, and the amazement of his surprise made him look more like an astounded faun than ever--a faun that has come bolt upon some incredible triumph of civilization. “I will be quite plain with you, young man,” said the theologian. “It has come to my knowledge that you and Gladys Romer are more than friends; have been more than friends, for a good while past. “Do not wave your hand in that way! I am not speaking without evidence. I happen to know as a positive fact that this girl is neither more nor less than your mistress. I am also inclined to believe--though of this, of course, I cannot be sure--that, as a result of this intrigue, she is likely, before the autumn is over, to find herself in a position of considerable embarrassment. It is no doubt, with a view to covering such embarrassment--you understand what I mean, Mr. Andersen?--that she is making preparations to have her marriage performed earlier than was at first intended.” “God!” cried the astounded youth, losing all self-possession, “how, under the sun, did you get to know this?” Mr. Taxater smiled. “We poor controversialists,” he said, “have to learn, in self-defence, certain innocent arts of observation. I don’t think that you and your mistress,” he added, “have been so extraordinarily discreet, that it needed a miracle to discover your secret.” Luke Andersen recovered his equanimity with a vigorous effort. “Well?” he said, rising from his seat and looking anxiously at his brother, “what then?”