to-night. You would lose your way, perhaps be drowned. Can you sleep on
a hard bed?" He was assured by Gerald that, if he had been turned away,
he would have slept in an outhouse, even under one of those windmills he
saw in such number on the strand. Karospina smiled.

"Hardly there--that is, if you expected to awaken." Then he left the
room, saying that some one must see to the supper. His niece burst into
laughter. Gerald joined in.

"He's always like that, fussy, nervous, but with a heart of gold,
Mr.--Mr. Shannon. Thank you. It's an Irish name, is it not? And you look
like an Irishman; a soldier, too, I fancy!"

Gerald blushed. "A soldier in the cause of humanity," he answered, "but
no longer a hireling in the uniform of kings." He felt so foolish after
this brave bit of rhetoric that he kept his eyes on the floor. In an
instant she was at his side.

"Give me your hand--_comrade_!" she said, with a peculiar intonation.
"Oh! if you only knew how I longed to meet the right men. Uncle is a
convert--no, hardly a backslider; but he swears by the regenerating
process instead of violence. Formerly the cleverest living chemist, he
now--oh! I shame to say it--he now indulges in firework displays instead
of manufacturing bombs with which to execute tyrants." She slowly
dropped his hand and her eyes wore a clairvoyant expression. He was
astounded.

"Fireworks! Doesn't the prince hold by his old faith--he, a pupil of
Bakounine, Netschajew, and Kropotkin?" Just then the prince came in,
bearing a tray. He seemed happy.