One result was easily foreseen.  His mind grew busy with literary projects, many that he had long contemplated and some that were new.  Once more he aimed at contributing to the ‘advanced’ reviews, and sketched out several papers of sociological tenor.  None of these were written.  As soon as he sat down to deliberate composition, a sense of his deficiencies embarrassed him.  Godwin’s self-confidence had nothing in common with the conceit which rests on imaginary strength.  Power there was in him; of that he could not but be conscious:  its true direction he had not yet learned.  Defect of knowledge, lack of pen-practice, confusion and contradictoriness of aims, instability of conviction,—­these faults he recognised in himself at every moment of inward scrutiny.

On his table this evening lay a library volume which he had of late been reading, a book which had sprung into enormous popularity.  It was called Spiritual Aspects of Evolution, and undertook, with confidence characteristic of its kind, to reconcile the latest results of science with the dogmas of Oriental religion.  This work was in his mind when he spoke so vehemently at Moxey’s; already he had trembled with an impulse to write something on the subject, and during his journey home a possible essay had begun to shape itself.  Late as was the hour he could not prepare for sleep.  His brain throbbed with a congestion of thought; he struggled to make clear the lines on which his satire might direct itself.  By two o’clock he had flung down on paper a conglomerate of burning ideas, and thus relieved he at length went to bed.

Two days later came a note from Staple Inn, inviting him to meet Malkin the next evening.  By this time he had made a beginning of his critical essay, and the exordium so far satisfied him that he was tempted to take it for Earwaker’s judgment.  But no; better his friend should see the thing when it was complete.

About eight o’clock he reached the journalist’s chambers.  Malkin had not yet arrived.  Peak amused himself with examining certain tropical products which the traveller had recently cast pell-mell into his friend’s sitting-room.  Then sounded a knock at the door, but it was not such as would have heralded the expected man.

‘A telegram,’ observed Earwaker, and went to take it in.

He returned with hoarse sounds of mirth.

‘Our friend excuses himself.  Read this characteristic despatch.’

Peak saw with surprise that the telegram far exceeded familiar dimensions.  ‘Unspeakably grieved,’ it began.  ’Cannot possibly with you.  At moment’s notice undertaken escort two poor girls Rouen.  Not even time look in apologise.  Go via Dieppe and leave Victoria few minutes.  Hope be back Thursday.  Express sincerest regret Mr. Peak.  Lament appearance discourtesy.  Will apologise personally.  Common humanity constrains go Rouen.  Will explain Thursday.  No time add another word.  Rush tickets train.’