Tallente shook his head.

“These people,” he admitted, “are full of their extravagances, although I think that the types you mention are as extinct as the dodo, but I will admit their extravagances, only to pass on to tell you this.  I claim for them that they are the only political party, even with their strange conglomeration of material, which possesses the least spark of spirituality.  I think, and their programme proves it, that they are trying to look beyond the crying needs of the moment, trying to frame laws which will be lasting and just without pandering to capital or factions of any sort.  I think that when their time comes, they will try at least to govern this country from the loftiest possible standard.”

The Prime Minister completed his walk, the enjoyment of which Tallente had entirely spoilt.  He held out his hand a little pettishly.

“Politics,” he said, “is the one career in which men seldom recover from their mistakes.  I hope that even at the eleventh hour you will relent.  It will be a grief to all of us to see you slip away from the reputable places.”

The Right Honourable John Augustus Horlock stepped into his motor-car and drove away.  Tallente, after a glance at his watch, called a taxi and proceeded to keep his appointment at Demos House, the great block of buildings where Dartrey had established his headquarters.  In the large, open waiting room where he was invited to take a seat he watched with interest the faces of the passers-by.  There seemed to be visitors from every class of the community.  A Board of Trade official was there to present some figures connected with the industry which he represented.  Half a dozen operatives, personally conducted by a local leader, had travelled up that morning from one of the great manufacturing centres.  A well-known writer was there, waiting to see the chief of the literary section.  Tallente found his period of detention all too short.  He was summoned in to see Dartrey, who welcomed him warmly.

“Sit down, Tallente,” he invited.  “We are both of us men who believe in simple things and direct action.  Have you made up your mind?”

“I have,” Tallente announced.  “I have broken finally with Horlock.  I have told him that I am coming to you.”

Dartrey leaned over and held out both his hands.  The spiritual side of his face seemed at that moment altogether in the ascendant.  He welcomed Tallente as the head of a great religious order might have welcomed a novice.  He was full of dignity and kindliness as well as joy.

“You will help us to set the world to rights,” he said.  “Alas! that is only a phrase, but you will help us to let in the light.  Remember,” he went on, “that there may be moments of discouragement.  Much of the material we have to use, the people we have to influence, the way we have to travel, may seem sordid, but the light is shining there all the time, Tallente.  We are not politicians.  We are deliverers.”