r and
kick you out of Graustark. See for yourself how it feels. Everything you
possess is to be taken away from you. You will be a wanderer on the face
of the earth--a pauper. All you have is here. Therein lies the
distinction: I had large possessions in other lands. I had friends and a
following, as you see. You will have none of these, Baron."

"A splendid triumph, you beast!"

"Of course, you'd much prefer being shot."

"Not at all. Banish me, if you please; strip me of all I possess. But
I'll come back another day, Count Marlanx."

"Ah, yes; that reminds me. I had quite forgotten to say that the first
ten years of your exile are to be spent in the dungeons at Schloss
Marlanx. How careless of me to have neglected to state that in the
beginning. In ten years you will be seventy-five, Baron. An excellent
time of life for one to begin his wanderings over the world which will
not care to remember him."

"Do you expect me to get down on my knees and plead for mercy, you
scoundrel?"

"I know you too well for that, my dear Baron."

"Get out of my sight!"

"Pray do not forget that I am governor of the Tower at present. I go and
come as I choose."

"God will punish you for what you have done. There's solace in that."

"As you like, Baron. If it makes it easier for you to feel that God will
take a hand in my humble affairs, all well and good. I grant you that
delectable privilege."

Baron Dangloss turned his back upon his smiling enemy, his body
quivering with passion.

"By the way, Baron, would you care to hear all the latest news from the
seat of war? It may interest you to know that the Castle is besieged in
most proper fashion. No one--"

"The Castle besieged? Then, by the Eternal, you did not take the
Prince!"

"Not at all! He is in the Castle for a few hours of imaginary safety.
To-night my men will be admitted to the grounds by friends who have
served two masters for a twelve-month or longer."

"Traitors in the Castle?" cried Dangloss in horror. He was now facing
the Count.

"Hardly that, my dear sir. Agents, I should call them. Isn't it
splendid?"

"You are a--"

"Don't say it, Baron. Save your breath. I know what you would call me,
and can save you the trouble of shouting it, as you seem inclined to
do."

"Thank God, your assassins not only failed to dynamite the boy, but your
dogs failed to capture him. By heaven, God _is_ with Prince Robin, after
all!"

"How exalted you seem, Baron! It