“Oh, Ricky-ticky,” he said, “you know everything.  How did you know it?”

“Because I’ve been there.”

“But—­you didn’t stay?”

“No—­no.  I didn’t stay.  I couldn’t.”

“I’m still there.  And for the life of me I see no way out.  It’s like going round in the underground railway—­a vicious circle.  Since you’re given to confession—­own up.  Don’t you ever want to get back there?”

“Not yet.  My way won’t take me back if I only stick to it.”

Under the stars he endeavoured to account for his extraordinary choosing of the way.

“I’ve three reasons for keeping straight.  To begin with, I’ve got a conviction that I’ll write something great if I don’t go to the devil first.  Then, there’s Horace Jewdwine.”

Maddox hardened his face; he had been told not to talk about Jewdwine, and he wasn’t going to.

“If I go to the devil, he won’t go with me.  Say what you like, he’s a saint compared with you and me.  If he doesn’t understand Songs of Confession, it’s because he’s never had anything to confess.  The third reason—­if I go to the devil—­no, I can’t tell you the third reason.  It’s also the reason why I wear my magnificent trousers.  All the reasons amount to that.  If I go to the devil I can’t wear those trousers.  Never, Maddox, believe me, never again.”

Maddox smiled, and, unlike Maddox, he said one thing and thought another.

What he said was.  “Your trousers, Ricky-ticky, are of too heavenly a pattern for this wicked world.  They are such stuff as dreams are made of, and their little life—­” he paused.  What he thought was—­“Your way, Ricky-ticky, is deuced hard for the likes of me.  But I’ll go with you as far as I can, my son.”

Under the stars they looked into each other’s faces and they knew themselves aright.

CHAPTER XLIV

Jewdwine made up for the coldness of his published utterances by the fervour of his secret counsel.  His advice to Rickman was, “Beware of the friendship of little men.”

This Rickman understood to be a reflection on Maddox’s position in the world of letters.  He did not care a rap about Maddox’s position; but there were moments when it was borne in upon him that Maddox was a bigger man even than Horace Jewdwine, that his reckless manner poorly disguised a deeper insight and a sounder judgement.  His work on The Planet proved it every day.  And though for himself he could have desired a somewhat discreeter champion, he had the highest opinion of his friend’s courage in standing up for him when there was absolutely nothing to be gained by it.  He had every reason therefore to be attached to Maddox.