“You would have expected precisely an opposite effect, but it has knocked our chances with Congress into a cocked hat.  Our member, who was to father the bill, declared to us that so sure as it was brought up now it would be killed in committee.  I went to Washington at once; it was this, and not, as you supposed, private business that has taken me away.  I saw our member and Tremlidge’s head correspondent.  It was absolutely no use.  These men who have their finger upon the Congressional pulse were all of the same opinion.  It would be useless to try to put through our bill at present.  Our member said ‘Wait;’ all Tremlidge’s men said ’Wait—­wait for another year, until this English expedition and its failure are forgotten, and then try again.’  But we don’t want to wait.  Suppose Duane is blocked for the present.  He has a tremendous start.  He’s on the ground.  By next summer the chances are the ice will have so broken up as to permit him to push ahead, and by the time our bill gets through and our ship built and launched he may be—­heaven knows where, right up to the Pole, perhaps.  No, we can’t afford to give England such long odds.  We want to lay the keel of our ship as soon as we can—­next week, if possible; we’ve got the balance of the summer and all the winter to prepare in, and a year from this month we want our American expedition to be inside the polar circle, to be up with Duane, and at least to break even with England.  If we can do that we’re not afraid of the result, provided,” continued Mr. Campbell, “provided you, Mr. Bennett, are in command.  If you consent to make the attempt, only one point remains to be settled.  Congress has failed us.  We will give up the idea of an appropriation.  Now, then, and this is particularly what we want to consult you about, how are we going to raise the twenty thousand dollars?”

Lloyd rose to her feet.

“You may draw on me for the amount,” she said quietly.

Garlock uncrossed his legs and sat up abruptly in the deep-seated chair.  Tremlidge screwed his monocle into his eye and stared, while Campbell turned about sharply at the sound of Lloyd’s voice with a murmur of astonishment.  Bennett alone did not move.  As before, he leaned heavily against the mantelpiece, his hands in his pockets, his head and his huge shoulders a little bent.  Only from under his thick, knotted frown he shot a swift glance toward his wife.  Lloyd paid no attention to the others.  After that one quiet movement that had brought her to her feet she remained motionless and erect, her hands hanging straight at her sides, the colour slowly mounting to her cheeks.  She met Bennett’s glance and held it steadily, calmly, looking straight into his eyes.  She said no word, but all her love for him, all her hopes of him, all the fine, strong resolve that, come what would, his career should not be broken, his ambition should not faint through any weakness of hers, all her eager sympathy for his