"You mean to say," Hamel asked, "that you seriously believe that a
conference is on the point of being held at which France and Russia
are to be invited to consider suggestions like this?"

"I am afraid there's no doubt about it," Kinsley declared. "Their
ambassadors in London profess to know nothing. That, of course,
is their reasonable attitude, but there's no doubt whatever that
the conference has been planned. I should say that to-night we are
nearer war, if we can summon enough spirit to fight, than we have
been since Fashoda."

"Queer if I have returned just in time for the scrap," Hamel remarked
thoughtfully. "I was in the Militia once, so I expect I can get a
job, if there's any fighting."

"I can get you a better job than fighting--one you can start on
to-morrow, too," Kinsley announced abruptly, "that is if you really
want to help?"

"Of course I do," Hamel insisted. "I'm on for anything."

"You say that you are entirely your own master for the next six
months?"

"Or as much longer as I like," Hamel assented. "No plans at all,
except that I might drift round to the Norfolk coast and look up
some of the places where the governor used to paint. There's a
queer little house--St. David's Tower, I believe they call it
--which really belongs to me. It was given to my father, or rather