“Yes, it would have been better to set a watch, but although I knew the men, nothing in their conduct led me to suspect a trick like this. However, as I am no longer in your employ, you shall not suffer further from my incompetence.” “I think, Maekeller, you ought to give me a week’s notice, you know.” “Very well. This day week I quit.” “I am not sure but I am entitled to a month. How much should I have to pay you if I dismissed you?” “Six months’ salary, I believe, is the legal amount.” “Well, then, why not give me half a year’s notice?” “I suppose you are entitled to it, my lord.” “Then that’s all right. Half a year from now we shake hands and bid each other a tearful farewell. Much may happen in twenty-six weeks, you know.” “Not if you’re going to do nothing, Lord Stranleigh.” “Maekeller, you may not be a thing of beauty, but you are a joy forever. Still, there is one characteristic which I do not like about you. Perhaps it is oversensitiveness on my part, but it sometimes seems to me that you think I am lacking in energy. I hope, however, I am mistaken.” His lordship paused and gazed with quaint anxiety at his visitor, who, however, made no response, whereupon his lordship sighed ever so slightly, and put on the look of patient resignation which becomes a misunderstood man. “Silence gives consent, I think, and I may find it difficult to put your mind right on this subject. Let me give you an illustration, chosen from your own interesting profession of mining engineering. I am credibly informed that if a hole is drilled in a piece of hard rock, and a portion of dynamite inserted therein, the explosion which follows generally rends the rock in twain.” Again he paused, and again there was no reply. It was but too evident that the serious Mackeller considered himself being trifled with. Unabashed, his lordship proceeded: “That is energy, if you like. Shall we name it Mackellerite--this form of energy? Now I shall tell you of a thing I have seen done on one of my own estates. A number of holes were bored in a large bowlder, and instead of dynamite, we drove in a number of wooden pins, and over those pins we placidly poured clear, cold water. After a time the rock gently parted. There was no dust, no smoke, no flame and fury and nerve-shattering detonation, yet the swelling pins had done exactly the same work that your stick of dynamite would have performed. Now, that also was energy, of the Stranleighite variety. I suppose it would be difficult to make the stick of dynamite understand the stick of wood, and vice versa. By the way, have you seen your father since you returned from Southampton!” “Yes.” “Did he tell you I possess a trim little oceangoing steam yacht at present lying in a British harbor!” “No, he did not.” “But I thought I made him aware of what I intended to do!” “Apparently he understood you no better than I do; at least he told me he did not know what course you proposed to take.”