"It is cruel, unjust and tyrannical," he ended, as a climax to his oration.

"Exactly," said Cyril, knocking the ash from his cigar. "Suppose you close the door before we continue; I fancy this sounds rather odd."

Rudolph obeyed with a force that shook the room.

"I fancy it does," he retorted. "To hear me begging an hour for a simple act of justice! Has it occurred to you what people will say when they hear poor Alisof's sentence?"

"They will say I did right, and I do not know that it makes any difference what they say, anyhow," Cyril answered.

Rudolph stopped in front of him furiously.

"Right! Yes, probably the common people will, but the people who count, the court and his fellow officers, they will say with me that it is an outrage, an abuse of power. Oh, you need not raise your eyebrows; this is the twentieth century, and do you imagine I am afraid to make myself clear merely because you were born two years before me and are consequently king? I say you shall not touch Alisof."

"I certainly see no reason why you should not say what you please, my dear brother, provided the door is shut," Cyril returned. "As for Alisof, I leave the question to Paul."

"If you ask me, I think he deserves all he gets," I said from my seat by the window. "He isn't quite doomed to the rack and thumbscrew, you know. A year in prison will do him good."

"Drive him mad, rather," shouted Rudolph, swinging around. "You are mistaken if you believe him a cold-blooded animal like yourself; he would sooner face the rack than disgrace."

"I would let him choose for himself about that before I had his sentence changed. You might not appreciate his feelings," I replied.

"You find it very amusing, of course," he said bitterly. "If it were one of your friends it would be different."

"I beg your pardon," I answered penitently. "I really do sympathize with you, Rudolph; it is only to Alisof I am hard-hearted."

"And if you mean that I would treat Alisof differently if he were Paul's friend, you are wrong," interpolated Cyril.

"No, I do not mean that," said Rudolph. "I know very well you would not alter your course for either of us, you are too cursed obstinate."

"You are not precisely of a yielding disposition yourself," Cyril remarked.

"If I had been king you would not have asked such a favor of me in vain," he answered.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Do you not see it is a favor you should not ask, Rudolph?" Cyril said gently. "I care absolutely nothing about Alisof personally, but I cannot break my own word. It was announced a month ago that the first officer found guilty of ill-treating his men would be punished; Alisof knew what he was doing. I am sorry, but I am afraid he counted too much on your influence."

"He did not hurt the great animal," Rudolph retorted sullenly. "I would have done the same myself."

"I hope not," Cyril said with a smile. "You would find a year at Lystemkin quite as disagreeable as Alisof, not to include the scandal."

But Rudolph was too angry to have a sense of humor. "Send me there if you please," he cried fiercely; "but I tell you Alisof shall not go. You use those in your power worse than he ever thought of doing. Take care, Cyril, for I will not have it."

And he rushed impetuously from the room, slamming the door behind him. Cyril and I regarded each other thoughtfully.

"After all," I remarked, "it is natural that he should be annoyed. He is very fond of Alisof."

"And I am very fond of him," Cyril replied. "Still, these scenes are hardly conventional. If any one should overhear him––––"

"You see it all arises from our never having expected you to be the king," I said reflectively. "Now Alexis we grew up to consider as crown prince and so he was always a little different, but you and Rudolph and I played and studied and fought together all our lives. Then came that awful accident and, well, we are not quite used to it yet."

"I do not wish to get on a pedestal," Cyril said irritably. "Do you suppose I care what either of you say when we are alone? But I have got to preserve appearances, and I will rule as I think best since I am king. Incidentally, a year ought to be enough to grow somewhat accustomed to it."

"I thought we were pretty good in public!"

"You are; Rudolph grows worse and worse."

"Have him beheaded, then," I suggested cheerfully; "our ancestors would have. Really, Cyril, it is only the outside; we are honestly loyal to you, and it is fortunate for the country you are the eldest. Rudolph will realize you are right in the end."

"Unless he raises a revolution in the meantime," Cyril replied with a sigh of resignation. "I am going for a ride; will you come?"

"I intended to hunt up Rudolph."

"You will do nothing of the kind," he said sharply. "Let Rudolph alone until he recovers his temper. Will you come?"

"I am honored, sire," I answered meekly.

He looked at me and laughed in spite of himself.

"It is an especial kindness of providence that there are only two of you, my dear Paul. One more brother and I would abdicate. Do you wish to come with me?"

"Very much," I said, rising to open the door.

From the expression of the people we met outside I imagined that Rudolph had shot through the halls like a comet and left a suggestion of sulphur behind him. It was to be hoped that he had said nothing in public; Alisof's case had already excited enough comment of various kinds. If Cyril had not possessed his share of the family obstinacy he would have granted the pardon, but Rudolph was right about the impossibility of mak- ing him swerve from a determination. It was justice, of course, but justice without mercy.

I felt a sudden sympathy with Rudolph as I saw another officer in Alisof's place, and Cyril himself was unusually grave during the ride.

When we returned I found Rudolph had gone out, so I was forced to obey Cyril's injunction to let him alone. I wondered whether he had gone to see Cynthia. If she had been my fiancée I would have passed every available moment with her, but Rudolph frankly declared women bored him. So they did me, all except Cynthia. He cared more for tobacco-stained Alisof than the most charming girl in Volgovnia.

I stayed alone in my room that evening. Cyril was not visible and I did not feel like anyone else. Rudolph's absence worried me a little; it would have been so much more like him to spend the night walking my floor and raging, and he had a genius for mischief. But about twelve o'clock he came in and flung himself into a chair opposite me without a word. I pushed the cigar tray toward him and waited.

"Paul," he said after a moment, "you have got to help me; I cannot stand it."

"About Alisof?" I asked.

He nodded.

"If he goes to Lystemkin I go with him. You do not know what it means to me, Paul; he counts on me to save him. If Cyril wasn't a pig-headed fool he would see it is only a technical offense. He needs a lesson."

"Cyril?" I exclaimed.

"Yes, Cyril," he answered sullenly, "and I am going to give it to him."

"May I ask how?" I inquired, after recovering my breath.

He turned and scrutinized me keenly.

"Yes, if you are going to help me; otherwise you had better know nothing about it."

"I do not quite feel capable of undertaking Cyril's education myself," I answered with mild sarcasm.

"I am not joking," he said earnestly, "and you know I would not hurt him to save anyone in the world; but he must learn that even an autocrat cannot commit an injustice without trouble. I promised to protect Alisof and I will. We always used to work together, Paul; don't desert me now. I tell you I am desperate."

"Too desperate to think," I answered. "Rudolph, you need protection more than Alisof. In all seriousness you will go to Lystemkin with him. Remember, Cyril has a temper too, and, besides, you are carrying things to a point where he cannot ignore them. Let Alisof take the consequences of his own act. Cyril may have been severe but certainly not unjust."

"I will not hurt him," he repeated. "If not for Alisof, for my sake help me. No harm will be done if Cyril has not his own way for once."

"I am sorry," I said slowly, "I cannot, Rudolph. Don't think me sentimental, but Cyril is king and head of our house, and I took my oath of allegiance to him."

"All right," he answered, rising, "I suppose I ought to feel that way. You will not tell him of this?"

"I believe you have lost your mind to-night," I retorted. "Think it over again before you do anything. I am sure I can win Cyril to pardon Alisof in a month or two; it is only the example he cares for. Wait."

"Good-night," was his only reply.

The remark I sent after him was fortunately cut off by the closing door.

The next morning when I rose it was with some surprise that I found my hair still black. After a night spent in wondering what Rudolph intended to do with Cyril and what would happen to Rudolph afterward, and feeling that both would have a right to blame me for not either aiding the one or warning the other, I was rather upset. The only idea that occurred to me was to try my influence with Cyril and beg him to pardon Alisof, whom I heartily wished had never existed.

But when I went to Cyril's rooms I was informed he was not there.

"At this hour," I said incredulously. "You mean he does not wish to receive me."

Ritsov shook his head deprecatingly.

"The door is always open to your Royal Highness. His Majesty is not within."

"When did he go out?"

He hesitated. "His Majesty did not retire at all last night," he said confidentially. "He did not come here."

I stared at the man in consternation.

"He did not come here," I repeated. "But where is he now?"

"I do not know, your Highness," he answered, catching the contagion of my anxiety. "I will find out."

"Do so," I ordered, turning hastily toward Rudolph's apartments.

In the hall I met Baron Mirkalb with a portfolio under his arm and stopped him eagerly.

"Where is the King?" I demanded.

"In his study, I presume, your Highness," he answered in surprise. "He did me the honor to summon me to a conference at ten o'clock this morning."

"When?" I asked.

"Last night after dinner."

"Thank you," I said, and went on.

I was commencing to feel dazed. Suppose Rudolph had meant something more than vague threats; suppose his mind had really given way and I had let Cyril go into some trap? They might have quarreled again, and Cyril was slight, no match for Rudolph or me. I paused an instant to collect myself. After all he was probably in the palace and I would have him demanding presently what I meant by such nonsense.

"Pardon, your Highness, but might I ask where to find the King?" said a voice behind me. "His Majesty ordered me to report this morning at half-past nine and I fear he will be seriously displeased."

I swung around to meet Colonel Daliski, of the Valiskan Rifles.

"I do not know; I wish to see him also," I answered. "Send me word when you find him, colonel."

"Certainly, your Highness," he said promptly.

At Rudolph's door I entered unannounced.

"Where is the Grand Duke?" I asked of the valet I found in my path.

He made a frightened gesture to the sleeping-room beyond, and striding forward I pushed aside the curtains.

Rudolph lay placidly asleep among his pillows, one arm flung across his face. I sank into a chair with a sigh of relief and looked at him. I could almost hear Cyril's tone of patient resignation: "If you will just send word when you want me, Paul, I will hasten to you. It isn't necessary to rouse the whole palace."

I smothered a hysterical inclination to laugh, and was rising to steal from the room when a sheet of paper on the table caught my eye. It was only an ordinary bit of notepaper covered with little spirals and hieroglyphics, but I had seen Cyril scribble idly that way while he talked too often to be deceived. I crossed the floor in two strides, and grasping Rudolph by the shoulders shook him roughly awake.

"Where is Cyril?" I cried, angrier than I had ever been in my life. "Get up, I say! Where is Cyril?"

"He is safe enough," Rudolph said with a coolness rather suspicious in a man just awakened from a sound sleep.

"Where is he?" I repeated.

"He is safe and comfortable," he insisted. "I will not say where unless you promise not to interfere. I warned you, Paul."

"Do you imagine I believed you were an absolute idiot?" I said exasperated. "You teach Cyril a lesson; I hope he gives you one to remember. You will tell me what you have done with him or I will call in the whole court."

"If you do I will pay the price for no purpose," he answered; "Cyril is just as angry now as he will be in two or three days. Except for temper he is as well off as if he were in the palace."

"But what do you intend to do?" I demanded.

"Only to keep him shut up until I get Alisof out of Volgovnia."

I released him and stood up in disgust.

"Putting aside what this means to you," I said, "have you considered Alisof's position? If he serves his sentence he can commence over again at the end of a year; probably Cyril will pardon him before then, while if he leaves the country this way he will never dare return. Moreover, you will have the kingdom in an uproar. It is an absurdity."

"It is done," he answered. "I could not undo it if I wished. When I last saw Cyril he was white with anger. After he is found I may be anything but until then I am master and I am going to assure Alisof's safety while I can."

"I am going to find Cyril if possible," I said firmly. "Of course I will make no scandal or involve you, but if I can I will set him free and you must take the consequences."

"Very well; that is all I ask," he said.

I went to the table, and crushing the telltale paper in my hand threw it beneath the grate. Rudolph watched me silently, and as I crossed the next room I heard his bell ring.

At least I knew now that Cyril was in no danger and I was better able to meet the situation before me. The palace was already alarmed, rumors of the King's disappearance had spread rapidly and the halls were full of anxious and wondering people. I told everyone the simple truth, that I had no idea of his whereabouts, and ordered a general search. Although as next in age Rudolph held the command by right, no one dreamed of disputing my authority, and I knew he would not dare countermand such a measure. What he had done, how he had trapped Cyril I could not guess. He could scarcely conceal him in the palace where a single shout in the King's voice would bring all the guard around him, and on the other hand, how could he be forced to leave it against his will? In the midst of the excitement and alarm my mind struggled vainly with the problem.

When Rudolph appeared at last and quietly assumed the direction of affairs, he found very little to do except acquiesce in my plans. What he arranged about Alisof was a matter of complete indifference to me; I left him alone and devoted myself to the search.

But when evening came I was no further ahead than in the morning. Somehow, although Rudolph played his part very well, the impression was general that I was more interested in finding Cyril, and the officers insisted on reporting to me. Nobody slept that night; the city was awake and murmuring like a hive. Of course I was the only one who knew he was even alive, and the wildest stories were current. At two o'clock in the morning I was called to the east end of the city to quell a riot around the old prison where it was said some anarchists were waiting trial. It was not true; there was not an anarchist in Volgovnia, but I had to go to assure the crowd of that fact. They listened to me and dispersed quietly enough, after cheering Cyril and me until they were hoarse. The omission of Rudolph's name struck me as ominous; it is surprising how the truth creeps out, and as heir to the throne he was particularly liable to suspicion.

When we re-entered the palace Colonel Daliski came to me.

"Your Highness, we do not know where to seek further," he announced abruptly, "except––––"

"Except where?" I asked, startled by his manner.

"Except in the Grand Duke's apartments," he answered.

"You forget yourself, colonel," I said sternly.

"Pardon, your Highness, I simply state a fact. Every other corner of the palace has been searched."

"You have not searched my apartments either," I answered, a new fear for Rudolph taking possession of me.

He looked at me steadily.

"It did not occur to us. Have I your Highness' permission to search. both?"

"As far as mine is concerned, yes," I yielded reluctantly. "For the rest you must ask the Grand Duke himself."

He saluted me with undisguised satisfaction and withdrew. He knew perfectly well that to what I submitted, Rudolph could not object. I was not sure of the result if some evidence of Cyril's visit there were discovered.

But nothing happened. Rudolph consented readily, if with surprise, and no trace was found. Another day and night during which the excitement increased hourly, and my own nerves commenced to be shaken. The confusion was appalling in all affairs.

The third morning brought a little note from Cynthia begging me to come tell her what was taking place in the city, her mother was away and she was frightened.

I could guess the rumors she must have heard in her quiet villa and wondered that Rudolph had not sent her some assurance of the truth. It was like his usual consideration for his betrothed, I reflected bitterly, as I arranged for an hour's absence.

I chose the most unfrequented streets and took only one attendant, but it was impossible to escape altogether the crowds. If Rudolph had ridden through Valisk he would have realized as I did that the people would support Cyril in any punishment whatever he chose to inflict on his rebellious brother. And Cyril was slower to anger than Rudolph or I, but once aroused he was more dangerous than either of us. The farce might easily change to a tragedy and I could see no way to prevent it.

By the time we reached Villa Duresq I was glad to dismount and rest. Cynthia came to meet me alone.

"Mama will not arrive until to-morrow," she explained. "Come over to the garden where it is cool. I have been so anxious."

The fair, sweet face she lifted to me was full of troubled questioning.

"So has everyone else," I said, as we walked across the lawn; "I ought to have sent you word. Cyril is well and safe."

"You have found him?" she asked, stopping.

"No," I answered.

"Then how do you know? And you look so tired, Paul."

"There is no use of hiding it from you," I said wearily. "I am tired, little cousin, and I have something unpleasant to tell you."

She sat down on a marble bench and drew aside her rose-colored skirts.

"You are in trouble?" she asked, her great blue eyes on my face.

"Rudolph is. He has shut Cyril up somewhere until Alisof escapes, and the city is almost in a revolt. If his share in the disappearance is discovered there will be a bad time, and when Cyril returns––––"

"Rudolph; then you did not help him?"

"Help him! I have been searching for Cyril day and night. Rudolph tells me everything except where he is."

"I can tell you that," Cynthia said quite calmly. "You frightened me at first, Paul; if it had been you it would have broken my heart."

"What do you mean?" I gasped.

"Do you remember how when we were all children you made a set of signal flags and you boys used to talk to me from the castle over to here?"

"Yes."

"Well, this morning I saw the little blue flag from my bedroom window. I did not think anyone could really be in the old tower, but just to see I waved a scarf. Then the message came in regular signals and I found it was the King. He is there in the unused wing now. I made him understand I was listening, or looking, and he told me to send for you and find out if you were loyal. If you were on Rudolph's side I was to send for Colonel Daliski and tell him."

"I will go at once," I said, rising. "Cynthia, you have done your best for Cyril, for very pity send word of this to Rudolph. Give him a little warning."

"I will," she answered. "Is it so bad as that, Paul?"

"It is pretty bad," I said soberly. "Good-by, dear."

"Go through the woods," she called after me.

I nodded and turned toward the masses of pine trees. My brain was whirling with the suddenness of it all. I had scarcely time to wonder how Rudolph had conveyed so conspicuous a person as the king five miles from the palace between twelve o'clock and dawn. The coolness and silence steadied me again as I went on and when I reached the gray, moss-grown building I was able to guess in which room he must be. I entered through a window, and ascending the dust-covered stairs made an examination of the fourth floor. Without that much elevation Cynthia could hardly have seen the signals. When at last I came to a heavily bolted door it was a moment before I could knock.

"Enter." Cyril's familiar voice responded at once.

"As soon as I can unbar the door," I called, and slid back the locks.

He was standing in the middle of the room, and something in his expression brought me to a standstill after the first two steps.

"I have been here three days," he said coldly.

"I learned where you were not fifteen minutes ago," I answered, feeling my color rise.

"What have you been doing," he asked.

"Searching for you, of course."

"And Rudolph?"

I was silent.

"And Rudolph?" he repeated. "You knew he was responsible for this; what have you done?"

"I have done everything in my power to find you," I replied. "I had neither the wish nor the authority to interfere with Rudolph; he assured me you were safe and would be released to-morrow."

"And you left me to await his pleasure?"

I made a gesture of impatience.

"Since you disappeared I have not wasted an hour, Cyril. I have worn this uniform two days and hardly taken a moment's rest. Valisk is almost in a riot; come quiet the people now and investigate my conduct afterward."

"There are a good many things I shall investigate," he said.

"Do what you please," I answered. "Only come."

He looked at me curiously and his face relaxed.

"I beg your pardon, Paul," he said gently. "I had no idea you cared so much. Come, by all means."

"Will you wait while I telephone for an escort," I asked.

"No, we will go to the villa and get horses. You are escort enough."

We walked back through the woods together and Cyril went in to see Cynthia while I secured the horses and my aide. After the way I had been received I dared not think what probably awaited Rudolph.

My gravity and preoccupation attracted Cyril's attention when he came out, and after the first half-mile he leaned toward me.

"Can you not forgive my temper yet?" he asked with a smile.

"It isn't that," I said, returning his glance affectionately, "it is Rudolph. He is young, Cyril; do not be too hard on him."

"He is two years older than you."

"I am older at twenty-four than he will be at thirty. He had no realization of what he was doing."

Cyril's chin set firmly. "It is time he had, then. There is only room for one king in Volgovnia and he must learn who it is. Good heavens! do you think I find it pleasant or dignified to be shut up like a naughty child because my younger brother does not happen to approve of my actions? This state of affairs must stop, and stop at once."

"You are right, of course," I admitted, "but you do not appreciate the condition Valisk is in. If all this is made public it will not be safe for Rudolph to go on the streets."

"I have not ill-treated Rudolph so far," he said dryly. "Let us change the subject. Has the new Russian ambassador arrived yet?"

I answered mechanically, and he gave me no opportunity to renew the conversation. Indeed, after we reached Valisk speech was out of the question, the city simply went mad. From the moment the first man recognized Cyril we were the center of a frantic, cheering mass of people who made advance nearly impossible. I do not believe a king had received such an ovation in Valisk since the days of my namesake, Paul the Sixth. Again and again we were forced to halt as they surged so close as to actually touch Cyril while they showered him with every term of endearment and respect. I was credited with having discovered him and my name was on their lips almost as often as his as I rode bareheaded behind him.

At the avenue we were met by Daliski and his men; the news of our approach had reached the palace and he had hurried to escort the King. After that we proceeded more rapidly.

By right Rudolph should have come with them himself, but as I glanced around I acknowledged internally that he had been wise in not doing so. Cyril was flushed and smiling as he bowed right and left, but what lay under the surface of his mood no one could tell. It would require very little to confirm the suspicion of Rudolph's share in the affair; unfortunately their quarrels were well known and much exaggerated.

Still it was only a slight delay gained; Rudolph would either have to meet him at the palace entrance or tacitly confess he dared not. The strain was commencing to tell on my nerves to such an extent that Colonel Daliski noticed it and asked if I were ill.

The square in front of the palace was filled with a dense crowd and across the building were drawn the waiting regiments, but I searched in vain for any sign of Rudolph. It was so unlike him to choose the timid course that my heart sank in anticipation of some new folly.

But as we reached the head of the broad marble steps he came out quite alone and stood waiting, far more composed than I. At sight of him there was a hush of expectation, a sudden silence fell on the crowd, a concentration that could be actually felt. All the rumors of the last three days were waiting confirmation or denial from the King's attitude as they met.

For just an instant they stood opposite each other, then I saw the shadow of a smile cross Cyril's face and he quietly held out his hand. Rudolph knelt without a word and touched it with his lips, and the people, taking it for a sign of affection between them, broke into prolonged cheers and enthusiasm.

I knew better; it was the first time Cyril had exacted that act of homage from either of us. In spite of my sympathy for Rudolph I could not avoid smiling as he rose and followed Cyril within, in enforced submission; I understood him well enough to know he probably felt more rage at the humiliation than relief at the escape.

In the hall an impromptu reception took place which also had its absurd side, for beneath the very real joy and satisfaction the one question in every mind, and which no one dared ask, was where had the King been. Cyril volunteered no explanation and withdrew as soon as possible. I imitated his example, certain I would be asked what I did not care to answer if I remained.

That evening Rudolph came into my room.

"Are you too tired to talk?" he said, pausing near the door. "You looked this morning as if you had been overdoing the thing."

"Not at all," I answered. "Come, have a cigar."

"I have smoked half a box already to-day," he said, sitting down opposite to me and tapping his fingers restlessly on the arm of the chair.

"You will shake your nerves, and you need to keep them in good condition," I answered gravely.

He glanced up quickly.

"Why? What does Cyril intend to do?"

"I do not know, but I fancy he is pretty angry."

"How did you find him?" he asked after a little silence.

"I didn't. You put him in our old playroom and he managed to reach Cynthia with those signal flags we made one year."

"I forgot the things were in existence," he said listlessly. "Anyhow, it didn't make much difference."

"It might have made a great deal," I retorted. "Cyril spared you an ugly scene this morning, Rudolph, and up to the last moment I was not sure he would. I do not believe you would have been so generous under the same circumstances. Really, it is too bad; you treated him outrageously and you seem unable to realize it."

"It wasn't exactly a question of generosity, Paul. Do you suppose he wishes it known that he was rolled up in a fur rug and carried through Valisk in the bottom of my automobile? All Europe would laugh for the next six months."

"Do you mean to say––––" I cried.

"I did just that. He came into my room to talk it over and when I found him obstinate as ever I wound a towel unexpectedly around his head, tied him so he could not move and wrapped him in a rug. My French chauffeur carried him down to the car without knowing what he had. Still, I was afraid this morning that he might be too angry to consider the scandal; I thought afterward that you probably quieted him during the ride in."

"He would not listen to me at all. You must have been insane; what did you expect would happen when he returned?"

"I don't know that I cared," he remarked. "I might have made a good king, Paul, but I make a cursed poor subject."

"You do," I agreed, "and so do I, but we have got to learn the art."

"Oh, you," he commenced, when the door swung abruptly open.

I glanced over my shoulder and rose.

"There is no occasion for ceremony, my dear Paul," Cyril's cool voice said. "Your room is your castle, you know. It is rather dark, though, unless you prefer the dusk."

I pushed the switch and the lights flashed up, then he perceived Rudolph and nodded carelessly.

"I thought you were alone," he remarked to me.

"I will go at once," Rudolph said stiffly.

Cyril made a gesture of dissent.

"Not at all," he returned. "I was about to discuss with Paul the rearrangement of affairs; perhaps you can assist us."

"I think you can arrange them without my assistance," he answered sullenly.

"I think so, too," Cyril acquiesced smilingly, "but you have shown so decided a wish to interfere that I offered you the opportunity. No, sit down."

Rudolph obeyed with a rebellious shrug and I interposed to check the retort I saw on his lips.

"There does not seem much to arrange since you are here, Cyril. The city is quiet now."

"Pardon me, Paul; the city is expectant. Some explanation of my disappearance must be given, and as you urgently request me not to give the true one, I would appreciate a suggestion."

Before I could reply the door opened for the second time and a slender figure appeared on the threshold, a figure all in shimmering blue from under the hood of whose opera cloak Cynthia's blue eyes looked out at us.

"Oh," she faltered, drawing back, "I did not know––––"

I was too amazed to speak, but Cyril came to her aid after a single glance from her to me.

"You did not know there would be anyone here but me," he said in his most matter-of-fact tone. "I requested your presence for a conference, my cousin, in which we will all join."

She colored deeply, and accepted the chair he placed for her with a faint word of thanks.

"I think your fertile imagination can stand in no need of my poor suggestions," Rudolph said sarcastically. "With your permission I will withdraw from a conference where I certainly was not expected."

"You will do nothing of the kind. If you object to the term of conference we will change it. Paul, will you assist me in this trial?"

"I am not sufficiently unbiased to be of service," I answered, startled from my contemplation of Cynthia as she sat in my old armchair, her golden head bent and her breath coming and going rapidly. She had come to see me alone, I comprehended that, but why?

"You desert me too?" Cyril said. "Very good, I appeal to you, my cousin."

"You are jesting with me, Sire," Cynthia replied, without raising her eyes. "If you were in earnest I would say you are the victor and can afford to be generous."

"I have not asked your intercession, mademoiselle," Rudolph cried fiercely, "and I am the victor, not Cyril; you mistake. Let him do what pleases him, he is too late now. I have saved my friend and he has been powerless to prevent it. I have won."

"Mademoiselle would say that you are ignorant of the fact that Lieutenant Alisof is at present in Lystemkin, under charge of attempted escape," Cyril said, with the velvet softness of tone his voice always took in anger.

"It is impossible!" Rudolph cried.

"It is quite true; a telegram was sent to the frontier yesterday evening."

"Paul," Rudolph commenced.

"No, Cynthia," was the curt reply.

Rudolph turned swiftly.

"You, mademoiselle?" he demanded.

"He ordered it," she answered. "I am sorry to have hurt you; indeed I am sorry."

He looked at her steadily for a moment, then turned to Cyril again. "After this you can hardly expect me to keep the old engagement. I refuse absolutely to make mademoiselle my wife, Sire; I think our dislike is mutual. I cannot see without disgust the woman who is responsible for poor Alisof––––" His voice broke, and he walked to the door.

"Wait," Cyril said imperiously. "Rudolph, I insist. I wish to end this subject once for all. I think you wrong in blaming Cynthia for this, she could do nothing else; but I am glad to hear you break the engagement, as she herself this morning begged me to release her. Nevertheless, the honor of our house must be protected; Paul, will you accept and fulfil Rudolph's duty?"

The room whirled before my eyes.

"You mean?" I cried, then words failed me utterly and I could only hold out my hands to Cynthia, and too proud for coquetry she came and put her hands in mine. There was no need of speech; we had always loved each other, always.

Rudolph was the first to break the silence which followed. "I am glad some good has come of this, Paul," he said quite gently. "It is not your fault if things went wrong, you did your best to keep them right. I never knew until to-night that you cared for Cynthia or I would have found some way to set her free before." He paused an instant and turned slowly to Cyril. "Sire, I do not think you are so unjust as to punish Alisof for my act; he could not help himself; indeed, scarcely knew where he was being taken."

Cyril did not answer immediately; he was writing in his little notebook.

"Paul, take Cynthia down to her mother," he ordered, rising and tearing out the leaf, and as we moved obediently toward the door he crossed to Rudolph and put the bit of paper in his hand.

"Be good enough to give it to Colonel Daliski," he said, "after you have read it."

When we were in the hall Cynthia looked up at him wistfully.

"Poor Rudolph, what did you give him, Sire?"

Cyril smiled and glanced at me.

"Alisof's pardon," he answered. "The incident is closed."