been led to
believe that Delgratz abhorred these murders committed in the name of
progress, and he naturally expected an emotional people to betray their
feelings. He listened in vain for a yell of execration. A queer murmur
ran through the crowd, that was all, a murmur that was ominous, almost
sinister. He scanned the faces of the crowd, trying to pierce their
stolid aspect. Some of the bystanders obviously belonged to the mutinous
regiment; but he looked in vain for any sign of anger or regret.

Skilled conspirator that he was, Poluski seemed rather to discern a deep
laid purpose behind their unnatural phlegm, yet his suspicions died away
when the street began to empty as soon as the prisoners' vehicles and
the escort had clattered past. The foot regiment marched off, and within
ten minutes Felix was back in his nook, smoking and coffee drinking, and
thanking the chance that left Joan unconscious of this grim episode,
since her bedroom windows looked out on the garden in rear of the hotel.

He sat there quietly, sternly repressing his musical instincts when he
caught himself humming some favorite melody; nor would he have budged
until Alec appeared had not his keen eyes noted another curious
movement in the street. About half-past three several men strolled past
the cafe, men whom he distinctly remembered having seen in the earlier
crowd. In twos and threes they came, and he fancied that the complete
disregard each set paid the others was rather overdone.

At any rate, he ordered a fresh supply of coffee and sought
enlightenment from Sobieski. "Just peep at some of those fellows in the
street and tell me if they are not soldiers of the Seventh Regiment," he
said.

The waiter obeyed. He determined the point quickly. "I recognize a few,
monsieur," he muttered, "and I believe there are scores of them. I wish
they would patronize some other street. Our patrons will not care to mix
with such rascals."

Poluski rose wearily; for his energetic soul was housed in a frail body,
and the long journey from Paris had exhausted him.

"I have read in the newspapers that King Alexis dispenses with a
bodyguard?" he said, lighting a fresh cigar.

"He hates ceremony, that young man," was the ready answer. "At first the
people mobbed him. Now he rides through Delgratz like a courier,
sometimes alone, at others with a friend or two, and perhaps an
orderly."

Felix laughed. "He is a fine fellow," said he. "Do the King a good turn