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midnight mail to London. Julius elected to stay the night at Holyhead. Half an hour after arrival, haggard and pale, Tommy stood before his chief. "I've come to report, sir. I've failed—failed badly." Mr. Carter eyed him sharply. "You mean that the treaty——" "Is in the hands of Mr. Brown, sir." "Ah!" said Mr. Carter quietly. The expression on his face did not change, but Tommy caught the flicker of despair in his eyes. It convinced him as nothing else had done that the outlook was hopeless. "Well," said Mr. Carter after a minute or two, "we mustn't sag at the knees, I suppose. I'm glad to know definitely. We must do what we can." Through Tommy's mind flashed the assurance: "It's hopeless, and he knows it's hopeless!" The other looked up at him. "Don't take it to heart, lad," he said kindly. "You did your best. You were up against one of the biggest brains of the century. And you came very near success. Remember that." "Thank you, sir. It's awfully decent of you." 294