ose not to interfere--the country
might see better days." He looked at him a few moments longer and then
waved his hand kindly.

"You are a fine Samavian," he said. "I am glad of that. You may go.
Good night."

Marco bowed respectfully and the man with the tired face led him out of
the room.

It was just before he left him in the small quiet chamber in which he
was to sleep that the Prince gave him a final curious glance. "I
remember now," he said. "In the room, when you answered the question
about Samavia, I was sure that I had seen you before. It was the day
of the celebration. There was a break in the crowd and I saw a boy
looking at me. It was you."

"Yes," said Marco, "I have followed you each time you have gone out
since then, but I could never get near enough to speak. To-night seemed
only one chance in a thousand."

"You are doing your work more like a man than a boy," was the next
speech, and it was made reflectively. "No man could have behaved more
perfectly than you did just now, when discretion and composure were
necessary." Then, after a moment's pause, "He was deeply interested
and deeply pleased. Good night."

When the gardens had been thrown open the next morning and people were
passing in and out again, Marco passed out also. He was obliged to
tell himself two or three times that he had not wakened from an amazing
dream. He quickened his pace after he had crossed the street, because
he wanted to get home to the attic and talk to The Rat. There was a
narrow side-street it was necessary for him to pass through if he
wished to make a short cut. As he turned into it, he saw a curious
figure leaning on crutches against a wall. It looked damp and forlorn,
and he wondered if it could be a beggar. It was not. It was The Rat,
who suddenly saw who was approaching and swung forward. His face was
pale and haggard and he looked worn and frightened. He dragged off his
cap and spoke in a voice which was hoarse as a crow's.

"God be thanked!" he said. "God be thanked!" as people always said it
when they received the Sign, alone. But there was a kind of anguish in
his voice as well as relief.

"Aide-de-camp!" Marco cried out--The Rat had begged him to call him so.
"What have you been doing? How long have you been here?"

"Ever since I left you last night," said The Rat clutching tremblingly
at his arm as if to make sure he was real. "If there was not room for
two in the hollow, the