nd the doctors, and was clasped in his father's arms.

CHAPTER II

AN IMPRESSED SOLDIER

The events of that night long remained in Zaidos' memory, a blurred
picture of pain and heart-break. There was a brief and precious hour
with the father whom he had so seldom seen; a time filled with the
priceless last communications which seemed to bridge all absence and
bring them close, close together at last. His coming seemed to fill
his dying father with a strange new strength. He talked rationally and
earnestly with his beloved son. Zaidos could not believe that the end
was near. Count Zaidos gave the boy a paper containing a list of the
places where the family treasure was put away or concealed. Also other
papers of the greatest value. Without these he would be unable to
prove his heirship to the title and estates of the Zaidos family. In
case of the boy's death all would go to a distant cousin, Velo Kupenol,
who had long made his home with the Count. Zaidos turned to meet this
cousin, whom he had not seen for so many years that his existence had
been forgotten. He saw a keen, ferret-faced lad, a little older than
himself. He took an instant dislike to the boy, and rebuked himself
for doing so. Yet the hard eyes looked _too_ steadily into his, with a
cold, piercing, deadly look.

"I'm in the way," thought Zaidos, as he turned again to his father.
And some sure instinct in his heart cried, "Beware, beware!"

When the dying Count handed the thin packet of precious papers to his
son, Zaidos slipped them in the inner pocket of his blouse. At that
moment Velo approached the bedside.

"Uncle," he said, "unfortunately my cousin here has been impressed into
service. Would it not be well for _me_ to keep these papers? I would
guard them with my life, and as I do not intend to fight they would be
safe with me in any case."

The Count frowned. "No," he cried. "Velo Kupenol, I have not found
you true to your name! You have been here with me for years, and I
know you through and through. I have treated you with all patience,
have paid your debts, have saved you from disgrace for the sake of the
family. I have forgiven you over and over. You have not shown me even
the loyalty that a true friend would expect, to say nothing of a
relative. If anything happens to my son, unfortunately the estates
will be yours; but while he lives, the papers will remain in _his_
possession, to do with as he sees fit. Ah!"