a mother's love.

Paul Howard Alexis was not a man to analyze his thoughts. Your strong
man is usually ignorant of the existence of his own feelings. He is
never conscious of them. Paul walked slowly through the village of
Osterno, and realized, in his uncompromising honesty, that of the nine
hundred men who lived therein there were not three upon whom he could
rely. He had upheld his peasants for years against the cynic truths of
Karl Steinmetz. He had resolutely refused to admit even to himself that
they were as devoid of gratitude as they were of wisdom. And this was
the end of all!

One of the men following him hurried on and caught him up.

"Excellency," he gasped, breathless with his haste, "you must not come
here alone any longer. I am afraid of them--I have no control."

Paul paused, and suited his pace to the shorter legs of his companion.

"Starosta!" he said. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Excellency. I saw you go into the kabak, so I waited outside and
watched. I did not dare to go inside. They will not allow me there. They
are afraid that I should give information."

"How long have these meetings been going on?"

"The last three nights, Excellency, in Osterno; but it is the same all
over the estate."

"Only on the estate?"

"Yes, Excellency."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes, Excellency."

Paul walked on in silence for some paces. The third man followed them
without catching them up.

"I do not understand, Excellency," said the starosta anxiously. "It is
not the Nihilists."

"No; it is not the Nihilists."

"And they do not want money, Excellency; that seems strange."

"Very!" admitted Paul ironically.

"And they give vodka."

This seemed to be the chief stumbling-block in the starosta's road to a
solution of the mystery.

"Find out for me," said Paul, after a pause, "who this man is, where he
comes from, and how much he is paid to open his mouth. We will pay him
more to shut it. Find out as much as you can, and let me know
to-morrow."

"I will try, Excellency; but I have little hope of succeeding. They
distrust me. They send the children to my shop for what they want, and
the little ones have evidently been told not to chatter. The moujiks
avoid me when they meet me. What can I do?"

"You can show them that you are not afraid of them," answered Paul.
"That goes a long way with the moujik."

They walked on together through the lane of cottages, where furtive
forms lurked in door-ways an