"Stay--you don't know all my misfortunes. I am ambitious--like you. I
believe in science and knowledge--like you. And, if my child had
lived, you should have been my adviser and my right hand: I want such
a man as you."

Hope threw up his hands. "My usual luck!" said he: "always a day too
late." Bartley resumed:

"But my child's death robs me of the money to work with, and I can't help
you nor help myself."

Hope groaned.

Bartley hesitated. But after a moment he said, timidly, "Unless--" and
then stopped.

"Unless what?" asked Hope, eagerly. "I am not likely to raise objections
my child's life is at stake."

"Well, then, unless you are really the superior man you seem to be: a man
of ability and--courage."

"Courage!" thought Hope, and began to be puzzled. However, he said,
modestly, that he thought he could find courage in a good cause.

"Then you and I are made men," said Bartley. These were stout words; but
they were not spoken firmly; on the contrary, Mr. Bartley's voice
trembled, and his brow began to perspire visibly.

His agitation communicated itself to Hope, and the latter said, in a