o a writing-desk, and brought him the scissors; he
was scarcely thinking of Calabressa, at all; he was thinking of the
message he would send to Naples.

Calabressa slowly and carefully cut the piece of paper into four
squares, and proceeded to fold these up. Brand looked on, it is true,
but with little interest; and he certainly did not perceive that his
companion had folded three of these pieces with the under side inward,
the fourth with the upper side inward, while this had the rough edges
turned in a different direction from the other three.

"Now, Mr. Brand," said Calabressa, calmly, "if one were drawing lots,
for example, what more simple than this? I take one of these pieces--you
see there is nothing on it--I print a red cross with my pencil; there,
it is folded again, and they all go into my cap."

"Enough, Calabressa," Brand said, impatiently; "you show me that you
have questioned me closely enough. There is enough said about it."

"I ask your pardon, my dear friend, there is not," said Calabressa,
politely; "for this is what I have to say now: draw one of the pieces of
paper."

Brand turned away.

"It is not a thing to be gone over again, I tell you; I have had enough
of it; let it rest."

"It must not rest. I beg of you--my friend, I insist--"

He pressed the cap on him. Brand, to get rid of him, drew one of the
papers and tossed it on to the table. Calabressa took it up, opened it,
and showed him the red cross.

"Yes, you are again unfortunate, my dear Monsieur Brand. Fate pursues
you, does it not? But wait one moment. Will you open the other three
papers?"

As Brand seemed impatient, Calabressa himself took them out and opened
them singly before him. On each and all was the same red mark.

But now Brand was indifferent no longer

"What do you mean, Calabressa?" he said, quickly.

"I mean," said Calabressa, regarding him, "that one might prepare a
trick by which you would not have much chance of escape."

Brand caught him by the arm.

"Do you mean that these others--" He could not complete the sentence;
his brain was in a whirl; was this why Natalie had sent him that strange
message of hope?

Calabressa released himself, and took his cap, and said,

"I can tell you nothing, my dear friend--nothing. My lips are sealed for
the present. But surely one is permitted to show you a common little
trick with bits of paper!"

"But you _must_ tell me what you mean," said Brand, breathlessly, and