the clothes were untorn?"

Stefan shrugged his shoulders.

"I could spare most of my acquaintances to be made corpses of, for
acquaintances are easier come by than good clothes. It was a street
attack, Captain, I suppose?"

"They are common enough in Sturatzberg," Ellerey answered lightly.

"The tale will serve as well as another," Stefan returned. "If I tell
it, I am not compelled to believe it, and if I chance to be lying, it
is no sin of mine."

"Why, rascal, what else should it be?"

"It might be a friend turned enemy, or the pursuit of a woman, or the
touching of one of the many intrigues in Sturatzberg; but let it be
a street attack. Was any man left sobbing out his life in the corner
of the wall? It is well to have the story complete."

"No; it was an encounter of blows and bruises only."

"In such a plight as yours most men would have had some boast to make,
pointing to their own condition to prove their statements. I have heard
of half a dozen men lying dead, or dying, at a street corner, victims
to a single sword, yet was there never a corpse to be found in the
morning. Your easy boaster is ever a ready liar."

"Patch up the clothes and wear them, Stefan, if you can persuade your