was crisp and beautiful. He took a long
breath, and looked up at the stars. After all, things might not be so
bad. Hedwig might refuse this marriage. They were afraid that she
would, or why have asked his help? When he thought of King Karl, he drew
himself up; and his heels rang hard on the pavement. Karl! A hard man
and a good king--that was Karl. And old. From the full manhood of his
twenty-three years Nikky surveyed Karl's almost forty, and considered it
age.

But soon he was bitter again, bitter and jealous. Back there in the
palace they were plotting their own safety, and making a young girl pay
for it. He swore softly.

It was typical of Nikky to decide that he needed a hard walk. He
translated most of his emotions into motion. So he set off briskly,
turning into the crowded part of the city. Here were narrow, winding
streets; old houses that overhung above and almost touched, shutting
out all but a thin line of sky; mediaeval doorways of heavy oak and iron
that opened into courtyards, where once armed men had lounged, but where
now broken wagons and other riffraff were stored.

And here it was that Nikky happened on the thing that was to take him
far that night, and bring about many curious things. Not far ahead of
him two men were talking. They went slowly, arm in arm. One was talking
loquaciously, using his free arm, on which hung a cane, to gesticulate.
The other walked with bent head.

Nikky, pausing to light a cigarette, fell behind. But the wind was
tricky, and with his third match he stepped into a stone archway,
lighted his cigarette, buttoned his tunic high against the chill, and
emerged to a silent but violent struggle just ahead. The two men had
been attacked by three others, and as he stared, the loquacious one went
down. Instantly a huge figure of a man outlined against the light from a
street-lamp, crouched over the prostrate form of the fallen man. Even
in the imperceptible second before he started to run toward the group,
Nikky saw that the silent one, unmolested, was looking on.

A moment later he was in the thick of things and fighting gloriously.
His soldierly cap fell off. His fair hair bristled with excitement. He
flung out arms that were both furious and strong, and with each blow the
group assumed a new formation. Unluckily, a great deal of the fighting
was done over the prostrate form of Peter Niburg.

Suddenly one of the group broke away, and ran down the street. He ran
rather lik