ighter, and his voice had the old joyous ring in it when he spoke
again. It was after a few minutes' silence deferentially observed by
Hamilton, who seemed to follow and to respect the course of his leader's
thoughts.

'Well,' he said, 'how is the old world getting on? Does she roll with
unabated energy in her familiar orbit, indifferent to the fall of states
and the fate of rulers? Stands Gloria where she did?'

Hamilton laughed. 'The world has certainly not grown honest, but there
are honest men in her. Here is a telegram from Gloria which came this
morning. It was sent, of course, as usual, to our City friends, who sent
it on here immediately.' He handed the despatch to his chief, who seized
it and read it eagerly. It seemed a commonplace message enough--the
communication of one commercial gentleman in Gloria with another
commercial gentleman in Farringdon Street. But to the eyes of Hamilton
and of Ericson it meant a great deal. It was a secret communication from
one of the most influential of the Dictator's adherents in Gloria. It
was full of hope, strenuously encouraging. The Dictator's face
lightened.

'Anything else?' he asked.

'These letters,' Hamilton answered, taking up a bundle from the desk at
which he had been sitting. 'Five are from money-lenders offering to
finance your next attempt. There are thirty-three requests for
autographs, twenty-two requests for interviews, one very pressing from
"The Catapult," another from "The Moon"--Society papers, I believe; ten
invitations to dinner, six to luncheon; an offer from a well-known
lecturing agency to run you in the United States; an application from a
publisher for a series of articles entitled "How I Governed Gloria," on
your own terms; a letter from a certain Oisin Stewart Sarrasin, who
calls himself Captain, and signs himself a soldier of fortune.'

'What does _he_ want?' asked Ericson. 'His seems to be the most
interesting thing in the lot.'

'He offers to lend you his well-worn sword for the re-establishment of
your rule. He hints that he has an infallible plan of victory, that in a
word he is your very man.'

The Dictator smiled a little grimly. 'I thought I could do my own
fighting,' he said. 'But I suppose everybody will be wanting to help me
now, every adventurer in Europe who thinks that I can no longer help
myself. I don't think we need trouble Captain Stewart. Is that his
name?'

'Stewart Sarrasin.'

'Sarrasin--all right. Is that all?'