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ure he kissed the name it bore. Then he turned to his work again. The sun was up before he folded the papers together. By way of a postscript he wrote a brief letter. "DEAR C.--I have been fortunate, as you will see from the enclosed report. His Majesty cannot again say that I have been neglectful. I was quite right. It is Sebastian and only Sebastian that we need fear. Here they are clumsy conspirators compared to him. I have been in the river half the night listening at the open stern-window of a Reval pink to every word they said. His Majesty can safely come to Konigsberg. Indeed, he is better out of Dantzig. For the whole country is riddled with that which they call patriotism, and we treason. But I can only repeat what his Majesty disbelieved the day before yesterday--that the heart of the ill is Dantzig, and the venom of it Sebastian. Who he really is and what he is about you must find out how you can. I go forward to-day to Gumbinnen. The enclosed letter to its address, I beg of you, if only in acknowledgment of all that I have sacrificed." The letter was unsigned, and bore the date, "Dawn, June 10." This and the report, and that other letter (carefully sealed with a wafer) which did not deal with war or its alarms, were all placed in one large envelope. He did not seal it, however, but sat thinking while the sun began to shine on the opposite houses. Then he withdrew the open letter, and added a postscript to it: "If an attempt were made on N.'s life--I should say Sebastian. If Prussia were to play us false suddenly, and cut us off from France--I should say nothing else than Sebastian. He is more dangerous than a fanatic; for he is too clever to be one." The writer shivered and laughed in sheer amusement at his own misery as he drew on his wet clothes. The shoemaker was already astir, and presently knocked at his door. "Yes, yes," the soldier cried, "I am astir." And as his host rattled the door he opened it. He had unrolled his long cavalry cloak, and wore it over his wet clothes. "You never told me your name," said the shoemaker. A suspicious man is always more suspicious at the beginning of the day. "My name," answered the other carelessly. "Oh! my name is Max Brunner." CHAPTER VII. THE WAY OF LOVE. Celui qui souffle le feu s'expose a etre brule par les etincelles. It was said that Colonel de Casimir--that guest whose presence and uniform lent an air of distinction to the
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