uth, which,
stern though it was, was full of humour, seemed unfamiliar. His eyes
were a wonderful deep blue, and his skin bronzed and burned with the
Egyptian sun. A momentary bitterness possessed Reist. The people of
Theos would care little for the brains which this man might lack. The
first glance of him would be sufficient. They would shout him King
till they were hoarse.

"You do not remember me, then?" Reist asked, softly.

Erlito stood swinging his racquet lightly in his fingers, and looked
into his visitor's face with pleasant and deferential courtesy.

"Do you know," he said, "I am very sorry, but I am afraid that I do
not. I have a very bad memory for faces. There is something about
yours which seems to me familiar, but it comes from a long way back."

Reist smiled faintly.

"Yes," he said, "it comes indeed from a long way back. It comes from
our boyhood. I hope at least that you have not forgotten my name. I am
Nicholas of Reist."

A radiant smile broke across Erlito's face. He dropped his racquet and
held out both his hands.

"It is little Nick!" he cried. "By all that is wonderful it is little
Nick! Remember you? Why, we played soldiers together when we were
children. A thousand, thousand welcomes."

He wrung his visitor's hands. His eyes were very bright. He was
undoubtedly affected.

"I am glad that you have not forgotten those days," Reist murmured.
"As children we were together day by day. Yet it is very long ago, and
for you at least," he continued, "there have been so many great
happenings."

"It is splendid of you to have found me out," Erlito cried. "I
imagined that no one knew even of my existence. And Marie?"

"My sister is quite well," Reist answered. "I had forgotten for the
moment that she too was once your playmate. It is so long ago."

"She is with you in London? You are living here, perhaps?" Erlito
asked. "It is the most hospitable city in the world."

Reist shook his head.

"There is only one home for us," he answered. "I do not love strange
cities."

"You mean----"

"Theos!"

Erlito's face clouded suddenly over. He glanced uneasily behind him.
His face became graver, his expression resolved itself into sterner
lines. A sudden bitterness found its way into his tone. The mention of
Theos had stung him.

"The Republic tolerates aristocrats, then," he remarked. "You are
fortunate."

Reist drew himself up.

"The Republic," he answered, proudly, "would never dare to