dmission.

"Who knows?" said the other, absently. "Perhaps there are none."

"None? Surely there must be some power to say what is to be done, to
enforce obedience?"

"What if each man finds that in himself?" said Lind, with something of
the air of a dreamer coming over the firm and thoughtful and rugged
face. "It may be a brotherhood. All associations do not need to be
controlled by kings and priests and standing armies."

"And the end of all this devotion, you say is Siberia or death?"

"For the man, perhaps; for his work, not. It is not personal gain or
personal safety that a man must have in view if he goes to do battle
against the oppression that has crushed the world for centuries and
centuries. Do you not remember the answer given to the Czar by Michael
Bestoujif when he was condemned? It was only the saying of a peasant;
but it is one of the noblest ever heard in the world. 'I have the power
to pardon you,' said the Czar to him, 'and I would do so if I thought
you would become a faithful subject.' What was the answer? 'Sire,' said
Michael Bestoujif, 'that is our great misfortune, that the Emperor can
do everything, and that there is no law.'"

"Ah, the brave man!" said Natalie Lind, quickly and passionately, with a
flash of pride in her eyes. "The brave man! If I had a brother, I would
ask him, 'When will you show the courage of Michael Bestoujif?'"

Lord Evelyn glanced at her with a strange, admiring, proud look. "If she
had a brother!" What else, even with all his admiration and affection
for her, could he hope to be?

Presently they wandered back into other and lighter subjects; and Brand,
at least, did not notice how the time was flying. When Natalie Lind
rose, and asked her father whether he would have coffee sent into the
smoking-room, or have tea in the drawing-room, Brand was quite
astonished and disappointed to find it so late. He proposed they should
at once go up to the drawing-room; and this was done.

They had been speaking of musical instruments at dinner; and their host
now brought them some venerable lutes to examine--curiosities only, for
most of the metal strings were broken. Beautiful objects, however, they
were, in inlaid ivory or tortoise-shell and ebony; made, as the various
inscriptions revealed, at Bologna, or Padua, or Venice; and dating, some
of them, as far back as 1474. But in the midst of all this, Brand espied
another instrument on one of the small tables.

"Miss Lind," s