ainst these traitors.

He had retired to his room at an early hour under the plea of weariness.
He was, as a matter of fact, worn out by the flood of fears and
anxieties that Valerie's one reckless sentence had let loose upon him.
So long was it since he had placed these weightier matters of diplomacy
and government in other hands, that the renewed sense of responsibility
and the imminent need for action seemed to be crushing in his brain. But
the instinct of self-preservation, backed by the one kingly attribute
left him--love of his country--strengthened him to attempt a final
effort to combat the overpowering odds which he felt rather than knew to
be against him.

Tossed and harried by a hundred terrifying thoughts, the self-enfeebled
creature broke at length into that dreadful crying, the scanty painful
tears, the aching sobs, which is the weeping of age or of an exhausted
constitution.

When the paroxysm was over he lay back in his bed, absolutely drained of
strength and of all power to think longer. Whether he dozed or not he
scarcely knew, but after an interval he seemed to awake as if from sleep
with his thoughts once more under control.

Oh, that he had his Guard about him! The Guard, always reliable and full
of the old grim dash and power which had been the firm foundation of the
ducal throne from the beginning. Amongst their ranks was no slackening
of discipline, of devotion, or of that splendid recklessness which had
made them what they were--the premier Garde du Corps of Europe! In
spirit he yearned once more to see their plumes and gleaming equipment
come dancing down the sunny wind, and to hear the grand thunder of
their charge, which but the other day he had been half-inclined to call
stale and unprofitable. In this solitary hour, when the night-lamps
flickered on the massive walls and the sense of loneliness grew upon him
till he sickened at the unceasing cry of the pitiless wind, he realised
that the Guard was the sole bulwark now as always of Maasau. He shivered
down among the soft coverings and listened apprehensively.

Unziar and Rallywood with two troopers watched in the guard-room,
through which lay the only approach to his sleeping chamber. Unziar,
could Unziar be trusted? He had heard something of Unziar and that
handsome vixen of Selpdorf's. Then Colendorp--ah, there was no doubt
there! Dark and resentful, his poverty and his pride were the bye-words
of the barracks; he, whatever the tempta