age.

"But America--isn't America the most marvelous product of romance in the
world,--its discovery,--the successive conflicts that led up to the
realization of democracy? Consider the worthless idlers of the Middle
Ages going about banging one another's armor with battle-axes. Let us
have peace, said the tired warrior."

"He could afford to say it; he was the victor," said Shirley.

"Ah! there is Captain Claiborne. I am indebted to you, Miss Claiborne,
for many pleasant suggestions."

The carriage was at the door, and Dick Claiborne came up to them at once
and bowed to Armitage.

"There is great news: Count Ferdinand von Stroebel was murdered in his
railway carriage between here and Vienna; they found him dead at
Innsbruck this morning."

"Is it possible! Are you quite sure he was murdered?"

It was Armitage who asked the question. He spoke in a tone quite
matter-of-fact and colorless, so that Shirley looked at him in surprise;
but she saw that he was very grave; and then instantly some sudden
feeling flashed in his eyes.

"There is no doubt of it. It was an atrocious crime; the count was an old
man and feeble when we saw him the other day. He wasn't fair game for an
assassin," said Claiborne.

"No; he deserved a better fate," remarked Armitage.

"He was a grand old man," said Shirley, as they left the shop and walked
toward the carriage. "Father admired him greatly; and he was very kind to
us in Vienna. It is terrible to think of his being murdered."

"Yes; he was a wise and useful man," observed Armitage, still grave. "He
was one of the great men of his time."

His tone was not that of one who discusses casually a bit of news of the
hour, and Captain Claiborne paused a moment at the carriage door, curious
as to what Armitage might say further.

"And now we shall see--" began the young American.

"We shall see Johann Wilhelm die of old age within a few years at most;
and then Charles Louis, his son, will be the Emperor-king in his place;
and if he should go hence without heirs, his cousin Francis would rule in
the house of his fathers; and Francis is corrupt and worthless, and quite
necessary to the plans of destiny for the divine order of kings."

John Armitage stood beside the carriage quite erect, his hat and stick
and gloves in his right hand, his left thrust lightly into the side
pocket of his coat.

"A queer devil," observed Claiborne, as they drove away. "A solemn
customer, and not cheerful