d Arnold, "does one enforce that right?"

Sabatini leaned over and helped himself to the liqueur.

"You possess the gift," he remarked, "which I admire most--the gift
of directness. Now I would speak to you of myself. When I was young,
I was penniless, with no inheritance save a grim castle, a barren
island, and a great name. The titular head of my family was a
Cardinal of Rome, my father's own brother. I went to him, and I
demanded the means of support. He answered me with an epigram which
I will not repeat, besides which it is untranslatable. I will only
tell you that he gave me a sum equivalent to a few hundred pounds,
and bade me seek my fortune."

Arnold was intensely interested.

"Tell me how you started!" he begged.

"A few hundred pounds were insufficient," Sabatini answered coolly,
"and my uncle was a coward. I waited my opportunity, and although
three times I was denied an audience, on the fourth I found him
alone. He would have driven me out but I used the means which I have
never known to fail. I left him with a small but sufficient
fortune."

Arnold looked at him with glowing eyes.

"You forced him to give it you!" he exclaimed.

"Without a doubt," Sabatini answered, coolly. "He was wealthy and he
was my uncle. I was strong and he was weak. It was as necessary for
me to live as for him. So I took him by the throat and gave him
thirty seconds to reflect. He decided that the life of a Cardinal
of Rome was far too pleasant to be abandoned precipitately."

There was a short silence. Sabatini glanced twice at his companion
and smiled.

"I will read your thoughts, my young friend," he continued. "Your
brain is a little confused. You are wondering whether indeed I have
robbed my elderly relative. Expunge that word and all that it means
to you from your vocabulary, if you can. I took that to which I had
a right by means of the weapons which have been given to
me--strength and opportunity. These are the weapons which I have
used through life."

"Supposing the Cardinal had refused?" Arnold asked.

"One need not suppose," Sabatini replied. "It is not worth while. I
should probably have done what the impulse of the moment demanded.
So far, however, I have found most people reasonable."

"There have been others, then?" Arnold demanded.

"There have been others," Sabatini agreed calmly; "always people,
however, upon whom I have had a certain claim. Life to different
people means different things. Life