South American Dictator, you can't afford to
be squeamish about throwing your enemies into jail or shooting them for
treason. The way to dictate is to dictate,--not to hide indoors all
day while your wife plots for you."

"Does she do that?" asked Hope. "And do you think she will be in
danger--any personal danger, if the revolution comes?"

"Well, she is very unpopular," Clay answered, "and unjustly so, I
think. But it would be better, perhaps, for her if she went as quietly
as possible, when she does go."

"Is our Captain Stuart in danger, too?" the girl continued, anxiously.
"Alice says they put up placards about him all over the city last
night. She saw his men tearing them down as she was coming home. What
has he done?"

"Nothing," Clay answered, shortly. "He happens to be in a false
position, that's all. They think he is here because he is not wanted
in his own country; that is not so. That is not the reason he remains
here. When he was even younger than he is now, he was wild and
foolish, and spent more money than he could afford, and lent more money
to his brother-officers, I have no doubt, than they ever paid back. He
had to leave the regiment because his father wouldn't pay his debts,
and he has been selling his sword for the last three years to one or
another king or sultan or party all over the world, in China and
Madagascar, and later in Siam. I hope you will be very kind to Stuart
and believe well of him, and that you will listen to no evil against
him. Somewhere in England Stuart has a sister like you--about your
age, I mean, that loves him very dearly, and a father whose heart aches
for him, and there is a certain royal regiment that still drinks his
health with pride. He is a lonely little chap, and he has no sense of
humor to help him out of his difficulties, but he is a very brave
gentleman. And he is here fighting for men who are not worthy to hold
his horse's bridle, because of a woman. And I tell you this because
you will hear many lies about him--and about her. He serves her with
the same sort of chivalric devotion that his ancestors felt for the
woman whose ribbons they tied to their lances, and for whom they fought
in the lists."

"I understand," Hope said, softly. "I am glad you told me. I shall
not forget." She sighed and shook her head. "I wish they'd let you
manage it for them," she said.

Clay laughed. "I fear my executive ability is not of so high an order;
besi