ve springing up,
and all the man's life going into it! Can you understand--you who ought
to understand? Were you not present when the bewildered, starved, hunted
creature heard that gentle voice of pity, like an angel speaking from
heaven? And if the beautiful girl, who will be the idol of my thoughts
through my remaining years, if she does not know that she has rescued a
human soul from despair, you will tell her--tell her from me, from
Calabressa. What would not Kirski do for her? you might well ask. The
patient regards the physician who has cured him with gratitude: this is
more that gratitude, it is worship. What she has preserved she owns; he
would give his life to her, to you, to any one whom she regards with
affection. For myself, I do not say such things; but she may count on me
also, while one has yet life.

"I am yours, and hers, Calabressa."

* * * * *

The letter was handed to Gathorne Edwards with a proud air; and he read
it, and handed it back.

"This man Kirski is not so much of a savage as you imagine," he said.
"He learns quickly, and forgets nothing. He can repeat all the articles
of membership; but it is No. 5 that he is particularly fond of. You have
not heard him go over it, Calabressa?"

"I? No. He does not waste my time that way."

"His pronunciation," continued the younger man, with a smile, "is rather
like the cracking of dry twigs. 'Article 5. Whatever punishment may be
decreed against any Officer, Companion, or Friend of the Society may be
vicariously borne by any other Officer, Companion, or Friend who of his
own full and free consent acts as substitute; the original offender
becoming thereby redeemed, acquitted, and released.' And then he
invariably adds: 'Why not make me of some use? To myself my life is
nothing.'"

At this moment there was a tapping at the door.

"It is himself," said Edwards.

"Enter!" Calabressa called out.

The man who now came into the room was a very different looking person
from the wild, unkempt creature who had confronted Natalie Lind in
Curzon Street. The voluminous red beard and mustache had been cropped;
he wore the clothes of a decent workman, with a foreign touch here and
there; he was submissive and docile in look.

"Well, where have you been, my friend?" Calabressa said to him in
Italian.

Kirski glanced at Gathorne Edwards, and began to speak to him in
Russian.

"Will you explain for me, little father? I