if you like, but a shining one. He loves sound maxims. You may
say he runs his life on sound maxims. He lives charitably with
all men and it puzzles him, as it puzzles me, to understand the
growing doubt, the class prejudice--nay, class hatred the failure
of trust and the increasing tension and uneasiness between
employer and employed. He and I are agreed that the tribulations
of the present time can be traced to two disasters only--the lack
of goodwill--as shown in the proletariat, whose leaders teach
them to respect nobody, and the weakening hold of religion as also
revealed in the proletariat. Now, to combat these things and set
a good example is our duty--nay, our privilege. Don't you think
so?"

Such a lecture on an empty stomach depressed the colonel. He
looked uneasy and anxious.

"I'll come, of course, if he'd like it; but I'm afraid I shared my
men's dread of church parade, though our padre was a merciful
being on the whole and fairly sensible."

Overhead, Henry had tried the door of the Grey Room, and found it
locked. As he did so, the gong sounded for breakfast. Masters
always performed upon it. First he woke a preliminary whisper of
the great bronze disc, then deepened the note to a genial and
mellow roar, and finally calmed it down again until it faded
gently into silence. He spoke of the gong as a musical instrument,
and declared the art of sounding it was a gift that few men could
acquire.

Neither movement nor response rewarded the summons of Lennox, and