him in regard to it.  But now the whole thing seemed up!  He had shown himself a fool and by good rights ought to acknowledge his defeat and return to Headquarters.  But he had too much spirit for that.  He would rather—­yes, he would rather face the pistol he had once seen in his enemy’s hand.  Yet it was hard to sit here waiting, waiting—­Suddenly he started upright.  He would go meet his fate—­be present in the room itself when the discovery was made which threatened to upset all his plans.  He was not ashamed of his calling, and Brotherson would think twice before attacking him when once convinced that he had the Department behind him.

“Excuse me, comrade,” were the words with which he endeavoured to account for his presence at Brotherson’s door.  “My lamp smells so, and I’ve made such a mess of my work to-day that I’ve just stepped in for a chat.  If I’m not wanted, say so.  I don’t want to bother you, but you do look pleasant here.  I hope the thing I’m turning over in my head—­every man has his schemes for making a fortune, you know—­will be a success some day.  I’d like a big room like this, and a lot of books, and—­and pictures.”

Craning his neck, he took a peep at the shelves, with an air of open admiration which effectually concealed his real purpose.  What he wanted was to catch one glimpse of that empty space from his present standpoint, and he was both astonished and relieved to note how narrow and inconspicuous it looked.  Certainly, he had less to fear than he supposed, and when, upon Mr. Brotherson’s invitation, he stepped into the room, it was with a dash of his former audacity, which gave him, unfortunately, perhaps, a quick, strong and unexpected likeness to his old self.

But if Brotherson noticed this, nothing in his manner gave proof of the fact.  Though usually averse to visitors, especially when employed as at present on his precious model, he quite warmed towards his unexpected guest, and even led the way to where it stood uncovered on the table.

“You find me at work,” he remarked.  “I don’t suppose you understand any but your own?”

“If you mean to ask if I understand what you’re trying to do there, I’m free to say that I don’t.  I couldn’t tell now, off-hand, whether it’s an air-ship you’re planning, a hydraulic machine or—­or—­” He stopped, with a laugh and turned towards the book-shelves.  “Now here’s what I like.  These books just take my eye.”

“Look at them, then.  I like to see a man interested in books.  Only, I thought if you knew how to handle wire, I would get you to hold this end while I work with the other.”