re was room for one in the street. Was it my
place to go off duty and leave you alone--was it?"

"You were out in the storm?"

"Weren't you?" said The Rat fiercely. "I huddled against the wall as
well as I could. What did I care? Crutches don't prevent a fellow
waiting. I wouldn't have left you if you'd given me orders. And that
would have been mutiny. When you did not come out as soon as the gates
opened, I felt as if my head got on fire. How could I know what had
happened? I've not the nerve and backbone you have. I go half mad."
For a second or so Marco did not answer. But when he put his hand on
the damp sleeve, The Rat actually started, because it seemed as though
he were looking into the eyes of Stefan Loristan.

"You look just like your father!" he exclaimed, in spite of himself.
"How tall you are!"

"When you are near me," Marco said, in Loristan's own voice, "when you
are near me, I feel--I feel as if I were a royal prince attended by an
army. You ARE my army." And he pulled off his cap with quick
boyishness and added, "God be thanked!"

The sun was warm in the attic window when they reached their lodging,
and the two leaned on the rough sill as Marco told his story. It took
some time to relate; and when he ended, he took an envelope from his
pocket and showed it to The Rat. It contained a flat package of money.

"He gave it to me just before he opened the private door," Marco
explained. "And he said to me, 'It will not be long now. After
Samavia, go back to London as quickly as you can--AS QUICKLY AS YOU
CAN!'"

"I wonder--what he meant?" The Rat said, slowly. A tremendous thought
had shot through his mind. But it was not a thought he could speak of
to Marco.

"I cannot tell. I thought that it was for some reason he did not
expect me to know," Marco said. "We will do as he told us. As quickly
as we can." They looked over the newspapers, as they did every day.
All that could be gathered from any of them was that the opposing
armies of Samavia seemed each to have reached the culmination of
disaster and exhaustion. Which party had the power left to take any
final step which could call itself a victory, it was impossible to say.
Never had a country been in a more desperate case.

"It is the time!" said The Rat, glowering over his map. "If the Secret
Party rises suddenly now, it can take Melzarr almost without a blow.
It can sweep through the country and disarm both armies. They're