ene.
They must hurry.

Impeded by the dead weight of their burden, they made sorry progress and
several times found it necessary to halt in the shadow of a pillar while
the red police passed by in their search of the Square. It was with a
sigh of relief that Rudolph opened the door of his shop and with still
greater satisfaction closed and bolted it securely. His nephew
shouldered the limp form of the unconscious youth and carried it to his
own bed in one of the rear rooms.

"Ugh!" exclaimed old Rudolph as he ripped open the young man's shirt,
"it's a nasty cut. Warm water, Karl."

The gaping wound was washed and bound tightly. Rudolph's experienced
fingers told him the knife had not reached a vital spot. The youth would
recover.

"But Karl," he objected, "he wears the purple. Under the gray. See!
It'll get us in trouble if we keep him."

He was stripping the young man of his clothing to prepare him for bed.
Suddenly there was revealed on the white skin a triangular mark. Bright
scarlet it was and just over the right hip. He made a hasty attempt to
hide it from the watching eyes of Karl.

"Uncle!" snapped his nephew, "--the mark you call cursed! He has it,
too!"

* * * * *

The tall young man in gray was on his knees, tearing the hands of the
old man away. He saw the mark clearly now. There was no further use of
attempting to conceal it. Rudolph rose and faced his angered nephew, his
watery eyes inscrutable.

"You told me, Rudolph, that it was a brand that cursed me. I have seen
it on him, too. You have lied to me."

The old man's eyes wavered. He trembled violently.

"Why did you lie?" demanded Karl. "Am I not your nephew? Am I not really
cursed as you've maintained? Tell me--tell me!"

He had the old man by the shoulders, shaking him cruelly.

"Karl--Karl," begged the helpless ancient, "it was for your good. I
swear it. You were born to the purple. That's what that mark means--not
that you're degraded to the gray, as I said. But there's a reason. Let
me explain."

"Bah! A reason! You've kept me in this misery and squalor for a reason!
Who's my father?"

He flung Rudolph to the floor, where the old man crouched in apprehensive
misery.

"Please Karl--don't! I can explain. Just give me time. It's a long
story."

"Time! Time! For twenty-odd years you've lied to me; cheated me. My
birthright--where is it?"

He menaced his supposed uncle; was about to strike him. Then