For both this was a time of growth. And yet, as always, somewhere in the mind of Endor lurked a pre-vision of things to come. A dark shadow was seldom absent from his thoughts. Had it been possible, he would have blotted from his life some recent, brief, but horribly poignant passages. To none, however, is it given to undo the past. In a moment of weakness he had sunk to the level of an unclean foe. He was pledged now to return felon stroke for felon stroke. If he could but efface that hour of moral failure what would he not give!
He dare not tell Helen his secret. By locking away deep in his heart the memory of a tragic lapse he tried to stifle it. But he was never allowed to forget that it was there. Well he knew that the enemy would not yield to dictation from anybody. Saul Hartz, upheld by the power that had carried him so far, would dare the Council of Seven to its worst.
John Endor saw all that with fatal clearness. And soon there fell on him a black despair. "O ye of little faith!" was the cry torn from him in secret as each morning he opened his letters. The recoil of a famous victory was far-reaching, as each day's post brought evidence. On every side, from quarters diverse and unexpected, squires came forth with a demand for this bold knight to lead them out to battle with the grisly monster in whose toils the country groaned.
The hour was ripe. One of his power, his inward vision, might lead them anywhere. He was begin-
