“We want you to remember this,” he said.  “The principles which we advocate are condemned before they are considered by men of inherited principles and academic education such as yourself, because you have associated them always with the disciples of anarchy, bolshevism, and other diseased rituals.  You have never stooped to separate the good from the bad.  The person who dares to tamper with the laws of King Alfred stands before you prejudged.  Granted that our doctrines are extreme, are we—­let me be personal and say am I—­the class of man whom you have associated with these doctrines?  We Democrats have gained great power during the last ten years.  We have thrust our influence deep into the hearts of those great, sinister bodies, the trades unions.  There is no one except ourselves who realises our numerical and potential strength.  We could have created a revolution in this country at any time since the Premier’s first gloomy speech in the House of Commons after the signing of peace, had we chosen.  I can assure you that we haven’t the least fancy for marching through the streets with red flags and letting loose the diseased end of our community upon the palaces and public buildings of London.  We are Democrats or Republicans, whichever you choose to call us, who desire to conquer with the brain, as we shall conquer, and where we recognise a man of genius like yourself, who must be for us or against us, if we cannot convert him then we must see that politically he ceases to count.”

Robert came out and whispered in his master’s ear.  Tallente turned to his guests.

“I cannot offer you dinner,” he said, “but my servant assures me that he can provide a cold supper.  Will you stay?  I think that you, Dartrey, would enjoy the view from some of my lookouts.”

“I accept your invitation,” Dartrey replied eagerly.  “I have been sitting here, longing for the chance to watch the sunset from behind your wood.”

“It will be delightful,” Nora murmured.  “I want to go down to the grass pier.”

Miller too accepted, a little ungraciously.  The little party wandered off down the path which led to the seashore.  Miller detained his host for a moment at one of the corners.

“By the by, Tallente,” he asked, “what about the disappearance of Palliser?”

“He has disappeared,” Tallente answered calmly.  “That is all I know about it.”

Miller stood with his hands in his pockets, gnawing the end of his moustache, gazing covertly at the man who stood waiting for him to pass on.  Tallente’s face was immovable.

“Disappeared?  Do you mean to say that you don’t know where he is?”

“I have no idea.”

Again there was a moment’s silence.  Then Miller leaned a little forward.  “Look here, Tallente,” he began—­Nora turned round and suddenly beckoned her host to her.

“Come quickly,” she begged.  “I can do nothing with Mr. Dartrey.  He has just decided that our whole scheme of life is absurd, that politics and power are shadows, and that work for others is lunacy.  All that he wants is your cottage, a fishing rod and a few books.”