will need all our help. If one of them regains her right—well and good.” The old man puffed at his cigar thoughtfully. “You are right,” he said at last.
The two men sat in converse until a late hour. Morton smoking incessantly, was satisfied to sit and listen to this remarkable old man, who in spite of his delicate frame possessed a will of iron, a mind as keen and as brilliant as a diamond and a heart as noble and tender as a woman’s. The Count had told him of his search for the weakling of a prince and its tragic end. Morton marvelled at the devotion and nerve of this faithful servant of the Crown. “What a man!” he said to himself. “What a splendid example for any highly resolved youth to emulate!” Surely he would do well to be moved by a like spirit! “Nihil sine Deo,” was Roumelia’s motto, the Count had told him. Henceforth his motto would be “Omnia cum Deo.” His heart expanded in sympathy for the long-suffering