"Oh, I know that," was the reply; "but give a conditioned man the same
wound and he will recover, nine times out of ten. The elder Hillars
was so enervated by drink that he had no strength to fight the fever
which came on top of the bullet-hole. Something happened over there;
and it's pounds to pence there's a woman back of the curtain. It is
some one worth while. Hillars is not a man to fall in love with a
barmaid."

I began to respect the young man's wisdom.

"So you believe it to be a woman?"

"Yes. The wind blows from one point at a time. There are four points
to the vane of destiny; there is ambition for glory, ambition for
power, ambition for wealth, and ambition for love. In Hillars's case,
since the wind does not blow from the first three, it must necessarily
blow from the fourth. You know him better than I do; so you must
certainly know that Hillars is not a man to drink because glory or
power or wealth refused to visit him."

"You are a very discerning young man," said I, whereat he laughed.
"Did he get my cable?"

"No. I thought that it was some order from headquarters and opened it
myself. I put it in his desk. I spoke to him, but he was too drunk to
pay any heed to what I said. Well, I must be going. I am getting out
a symposium of editorials from the morning papers on the possibility of
a Franco-Russian alliance. It must be at the cable office in half an
hour. If you are going to wait, you'll find the Berlin and Paris files