fair man, with
keen eyes and weather-beaten skin--by no means unlike Erlito, save
that his shoulders were not so broad, and he lacked the military
carriage.

"I am interested in your country, Duke," he said. "You are making
history there. It seems to me that it may become European history."

"Theos has fallen upon evil times," Reist answered. "All that we pray
of Europe is that we may be left alone. If that be granted us we shall
right ourselves."

Sara Van Decht looked across at him with frank interest.

"Do you come from Theos, Duke?" she asked.

Reist bowed.

"I have lived there all my life," he said, "and I know it better than
any other place.

"It is a very beautiful country," he continued, "and very dear to its
people. To strangers, though, and specially you who have been brought
up in America, I must confess that we should probably seem outside the
pale of civilization."

"Tell me why," she asked. "What are you so backward in?"

"Luxuries," he answered. "We have no electric light."

"It is detestable," she exclaimed.

"No street cars."

"They are abominable!"

Reist smiled quietly.

"We have scarcely any railways," he said, "and the telephone is rare
enough to be a curiosity."

She laughed back at him, and gave her empty cup to Brand.

"Primitivism," she declared, "is quite the most delightful thing in
the world. Then your politics, too, must be most exciting. You have
revolutions, and that sort of thing, do you not?"

"I do not understand you, Miss Van Decht," he said, quietly. "Will you
not tell me what you mean?"

"The papers are all so vague," she answered, "but one gathers that
Theos is in a state of political unrest. I believe in South America
they would call that a revolution."

Reist's eyes flashed fire. A faint smile flickered upon Hassen's lips.

"There is not any comparison," he said, haughtily, "any possible
comparison, between the affairs of one of the most ancient and
historical countries in Europe and the mushroom States of South
America. Theos, it is true, has made mistakes, and she will suffer for
them--she is suffering now."

"The Republic, for example," Hassen remarked, quietly.

"Theos," Reist answered, "is a country in which the Republican
instinct is as yet unborn. Her sons are homely and brave, tillers of
the soil, or soldiers. We have few cities to corrupt, and very little
attempt at the education which makes shopkeepers and anarchists of
honest men. Perhaps