Chapter ElevenIt was when M. Lasalle was staring into the depressing depths of the Smuggler’s Leap that there suddenly came upon him the New Idea. Before it came his mind was as dark as the pit below him; and then, with a little spurt of light like an igniting match, the infant idea was there. Immediately his consciousness turned to it, centred about it, and became blessedly unaware of all the tormenting thoughts which had been making his poor mind a battlefield. It now ceased to be a battlefield and became a laboratory, a place thoroughly congenial and filled with the useful and docile idea to which poor Fritzi had now for weeks been a stranger.
As with his inner eye he contemplated this blessed change, and with his inner man rejoiced over it, he became aware of the overwhelming necessit
