amilton thought sadly
within himself. 'But she will not care to plead to me that I should take
care of my life. She thinks my poor, worthless life is safe enough--as
indeed it is--who cares to attack me?--and even if it were not safe,
what would that be to her?' He thought at the moment that it would be
sweetness and happiness to him to have his life threatened by all the
assassins and dynamiters in the world if only the danger could once
induce Helena Langley to ask him to take a little better care of his
existence.

'What do you think of my idea?' Sir Rupert asked. He seemed to find
Hamilton's silence discouraging. Perhaps Hamilton knew that the Dictator
would not like being interfered with by any young woman. For the fondest
of fathers can never quite understand why the daughter, whom he himself
adores, might not, nevertheless, seem sometimes a little of a bore to a
man who is not her father.

Hamilton pulled himself together.

'I think it is an excellent idea, Sir Rupert--in fact, I don't know of
any other idea that is worth thinking about.'

'Glad to hear you say so, Hamilton,' Sir Rupert said, greatly cheered.
'I'll put it in operation at once. Good-bye.'

CHAPTER XIII

DOLORES ON THE LOOK-OUT

Captain Sarrasin when he was in the hotel always had breakfast in his
little sitting-room. A very modest breakfast it was, consisting
invariably of a cup of coffee and some dry toast with a radish. Of late,
when he emerged from his bedroom he always found a little china jar on
his breakfast-table with some fresh flowers in it. He thought this a
delightful attention at first, and assumed that it would drop after a
day or two, like other formal civilities of a hotel-keeper. But the days
went on and the flowers came, and Captain Sarrasin thought that at least
he ought to make it known that he received and appreciated them, and was
grateful.

So he took care to be in the breakfast-room one day while the waiter was
laying out the breakfast things, and crowning the edifice metaphorically
with the little china jar and its fresh flowers--roses this time.
Sarrasin knew enough to know that the deftest-handed waiter in the world
had never arranged that cluster of roses and moss and leaves.

'Now, look here, dear boy,' he asked of the waiter in his beaming
way--Sarrasin hardly ever addressed any personage of humbler rank
without some friendly and encouraging epithet, 'to whom am I indebted
for these delightful morni