entering a struggle, not only to prove the genuineness of a bird skin
and the existence of a bird which neither of us has ever seen, but
also a struggle which will either make us famous forever or render it
impossible for either of us ever again to face a scientific audience."

"I know it," she said, quietly "And I understand all the better how
gallant a gentleman I have had the fortune to enlist in my cause.
Believe me, had I not absolute confidence in my ability to prove the
existence of the ux I should not, selfish as I am, have accepted your
chivalrous offer to stand or fall with me."

The subtle emotion in her voice touched a responsive chord in me. I
looked at her earnestly; she raised her beautiful eyes to mine.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

Would I help her? Faith, I'd pass the balance of my life turning
flip-flaps to please her. I did not attempt to undeceive myself; I
realized that the lightning had struck me--that I was desperately in
love with the young Countess from the tip of her bonnet to the toe of
her small, polished shoe. I was curiously cool about it, too, although
my heart gave a thump that nigh choked me, and I felt myself going red
from temple to chin.

If the Countess d'Alzette noticed it she gave no sign, unless the pink
tint under her eyes, deepening, was a subtle signal of understanding
to the signal in my eyes.

"Suppose," she said, "that I failed, before the congress, to prove my
theory? Suppose my investigations resulted in the exposure of a fraud