In Shiel, Lilian Rosenberg saw the qualities she had always been seeking—­the qualities she had almost despaired of ever finding—­and which she had so often declared existed only in fiction.  He only interested her, she argued; but she forgot that interest as well as pity is akin to love—­and that where the former leads, the latter almost invariably follows.

“I don’t believe you have enough to eat,” she said to him one day.  “You are a perfect shadow.  How do you exist if you have no private means?”

“I just manage to exist, and that is all,” Shiel laughed, and he spoke the truth, his present state of semi-starvation having resulted from the untoward events, which had happened prior to his application for the post of clerk to the Modern Sorcery Company Ltd., and his subsequent acquaintance with Lilian Rosenberg.

Whilst John Martin had been ill, and he had helped at the Hall in Kings way, he had lived well.  Gladys had taken care he was paid—­not a big sum to be sure—­but enough to keep him.  But directly John Martin, in spite of Gladys’s remonstrances, had resumed work, Shiel had been dismissed.

“I wish I could help you,” John Martin said to him, “for I really feel grateful to you for all you have done, but to tell you the candid truth, I can’t afford to pay any salaries.  As you know, the receipts of the Hall are next to nothing; but the expenses continue just the same—­rent, gas, and staff—­all heavy items.  Moreover, at your uncle’s death, many of his creditors put in claims on the Firm for debts—­debts he had incurred without either my sanction or knowledge—­and it has been a serious drain on me to pay them off.  In fact, my finances are now at such a low ebb that I cannot possibly do anything for you.  If only the Modern Sorcery Company could be cleared off the scenes.”

“You would, I suppose, feel extremely grateful to whoever cleared them off?”

“I would,” John Martin replied, with a significant chuckle.

“Even though it were some one who had not stood very high in your estimation?”

“Even though it were the devil.”

“Now, look here, Mr. Martin,” Shiel said, trying to appear calm.  “I will devote all my energies and all my time to your cause—­the overthrow of the Modern Sorcery Company, if only—­if only, in the event of my being successful, you will give me some hope of being permitted to win your daughter.”

“I promise you that hope, and any other you may see fit to aspire to,” John Martin said, with a grim smile, “since there isn’t the remotest chance of your succeeding in the task you have set yourself.  Believe me, it will take both money and wits to get the better of Hamar, Curtis and Kelson.”

“Anyhow, I have your permission to try.  I shall do my best.”

“You may do what you like,” John Martin rejoined, “so long as you don’t talk to me again about Gladys till you’ve redeemed your pledge, that is to say, till you’ve overthrown the Modern Sorcery Company.  In the meanwhile, I must ask you to abstain from seeing her.”