"When we left school," Bellamy remarked, "you were destined for
the Stock Exchange. I went first to Magdalen. Did you ever hear
what became of me afterwards?"

"I always understood," Laverick answered, "that you went into one
of the Government offices."

"Quite right," Bellamy assented. "I did. At this moment I have
the honor to serve His Majesty."

"Two thousand a year and two hours work a day," Laverick laughed.
"I know the sort of thing."

"You evidently don't," Bellamy answered. "I often work twenty
hours a day, I don't get half two thousand a year, and most of
the time I carry my life in my hands. When I am working - and I
am working now - I am never sure of the morrow."

Laverick looked at him incredulously.

"You're not joking, Bellamy?" he asked.

"Not by any manner of means. I have the honor to be a humble member
of His Majesty's Secret Service."

Laverick glanced at his companion wonderingly.

"I really didn't know," he said, "that such a service had any actual
existence except in novels."