tton-chop without there being a paragraph in the papers headed,
'Diet of the Prince of Wales.' His life is made an infinite bore to him,
I'm positive!"

Gueldmar looked thoughtful. "I know little about kings or princes," he
said, "but it seems to me, from what I _do_ know, that they have but
small power. They are mere puppets. In olden times they possessed
supremacy, but now--"

"I will tell you," interrupted Duprez excitedly, "who it is that rules
the people in these times,--it is the _Pen_--_Madame La Plume_. A little
black, sharp, scratching devil she is,--empress of all nations! No crown
but a point,--no royal robe save ink! It is certain that as long as
_Madame la Plume_ gambols freely over her realms of paper, so long must
kings and autocrats shake in their shoes and be uncertain of their
thrones. Mon Dieu! if I had but the gift of writing, I would conquer the
world!"

"There are an immense number of people writing just now, Pierre,"
remarked Lorimer, with a smile, "yet they don't do much in the
conquering line."

"Because they are afraid!" said Duprez. "Because they have not the
courage of their opinions! Because they dare not tell the truth!"

"Upon my life, I believe you are right!" said Errington. "If there were
a man bold enough to declare truths and denounce lies, I should imagine
it quite possible that he might conquer the world,--or, at any rate,
make it afraid of him."

"But is the world so full of lies?" asked Thelma timidly.

Lorimer looked at her gravely. "I fear so, Miss Gueldmar! I think it has
a tolerable harvest of them every year,--a harvest, too, that never
fails! But I say, Phil! Look at the sun shining! Let us go up on
deck,--we shall soon be getting back to the Altenfjord."

They all rose, threw on their caps, and left the saloon with the
exception of Errington, who lingered behind, watching his opportunity,
and as Thelma followed her father he called her back softly--

"Thelma!"

She hesitated, and then turned towards him,--her father saw her
movement, smiled at her, and nodded kindly, as he passed through the
saloon doors and disappeared. With a beating heart, she sprang quickly
to her lover's side, and as he caught her in his arms, she whispered--

"You have told him?"

"Your father? Yes, my darling!" murmured Philip, as he kissed her sweet,
upturned lips. "Be quite happy--he knows everything. Come, Thelma! tell
me again you love me--I have not heard you say it properly yet!"