t he stood staring out across the harbour; then
there was the sound of ripping paper, a moment's silence, and he thrust
the envelope into his pocket and turned back to the table.

"It is well!" he said, and sat down. "It is well, Kasia!"

"I am glad of that, father," she answered, in a low voice, and poured
his coffee.

He ate rapidly and as though very hungry; but the girl made only a
pretence of eating. At last the man looked at her.

"We leave at once," he said. "We are to take the first boat for America.
Are you not glad?"

"Very glad, father."

"Why is it you so love America, Kasia?" he asked.

"You also love it, father. It is the land of freedom--even for us poor
Poles, it is the land of freedom!"

"The land of freedom!" he echoed. "And I love it, as you say. It is
because of that I hasten back; I have in store for her a great honour,
which will make her more than ever the land of freedom! For she is not
free yet, Kasia--not for poor Poles, nor for poor Jews, nor for the poor
of any nation. The poor cannot know freedom--not anywhere in the whole
world. They must labour, they must sweat, they may not rest if they
would live, for the greater part of what they earn is stolen from them.
But I will change all that! Oh, you know my dream--no more poverty, no
more suffering, no more cruelty and tyranny and injustice--but all men,
all the nations of the world, joined in brotherhood and love! This day
at dawn I struck the first blow for freedom! Do you know what it was, my
daughter? Did you hear the roar of the waters as they opened? See!"

He caught her by the wrist and dragged her to the window.

"See!" he cried again, and pointed a shaking finger toward the black
hulk in the harbour.

But she did not look. Instead she shrank away from him and pressed her
hands before her eyes, and shook with a long shudder.

And after a moment, the light faded from her father's face, and left it
old and worn; his eyes grew dull and moody; his lips trembled.

"Every cause must have its martyrs," he said, as though answering her
thought, and his voice was shaking with emotion; "even the cause of
freedom; yea, that more than any other, for the battle against tyranny
is the most desperate of all!"

And dropping her wrist, he went slowly from the room.

CHAPTER II

FRANCE IN MOURNING

To M. Theophile Delcasse, Minister of Marine, and first statesman of the
Republic, slumbering peacefully in his bed at Paris that