on the serious side--but you're a man of principle. I'm a slacker."

"The difference between us," Von Ragastein pronounced, "is something
which is inculcated into the youth of our country and which is not
inculcated into yours. In England, with a little money, a little birth,
your young men expect to find the world a playground for sport, a garden
for loves. The mightiest German noble who ever lived has his work to do.
It is work which makes fibre, which gives balance to life."

Dominey sighed. His cigar, dearly prized though it had been, was cold
between his fingers. In that perfumed darkness, illuminated only by the
faint gleam of the shaded lamp behind, his face seemed suddenly white
and old. His host leaned towards him and spoke for the first time in the
kindlier tones of their youth.

"You hinted at tragedy, my friend. You are not alone. Tragedy also has
entered my life. Perhaps if things had been otherwise, I should have
found work in more joyous places, but sorrow came to me, and I am here."

A quick flash of sympathy lit up Dominey's face.

"We met trouble in a different fashion," he groaned.



CHAPTER II

Dominey slept till late the following morning, and when he woke at last
from a long, dreamless slumber, he was conscious of a curious
quietness in the camp. The doctor, who came in to see him, explained it