him, as he had been
born with a phenomenal memory and his eagerness and desire were a fury.

But throughout the entire day neither of them once referred to what
they were doing as anything but "the game."

At night, it is true, each found himself lying awake and thinking. It
was The Rat who broke the silence from his sofa.

"It is what the messengers of the Secret Party would be ordered to do
when they were sent out to give the Sign for the Rising," he said. "I
made that up the first day I invented the party, didn't I?"

"Yes," answered Marco.

After a third day's concentration they knew by heart everything given
to them to learn. That night Loristan put them through an examination.

"Can you write these things?" he asked, after each had repeated them
and emerged safely from all cross-questioning.

Each boy wrote them correctly from memory.

"Write yours in French--in German--in Russian--in Samavian," Loristan
said to Marco.

"All you have told me to do and to learn is part of myself, Father,"
Marco said in the end. "It is part of me, as if it were my hand or my
eyes--or my heart."

"I believe that is true," answered Loristan.

He was pale that night and there was a shadow on his face. His eyes
held a great longing as they rested on Marco. It was a yearning which
had a sort of dread in it.

Lazarus also did not seem quite himself. He was red instead of pale,
and his movements were uncertain and restless. He cleared his throat
nervously at intervals and more than once left his chair as if to look
for something.

It was almost midnight when Loristan, standing near Marco, put his arm
round his shoulders.

"The Game"--he began, and then was silent a few moments while Marco
felt his arm tighten its hold. Both Marco and The Rat felt a hard
quick beat in their breasts, and, because of this and because the pause
seemed long, Marco spoke.

"The Game--yes, Father?" he said.

"The Game is about to give you work to do--both of you," Loristan
answered.

Lazarus cleared his throat and walked to the easel in the corner of the
room. But he only changed the position of a piece of drawing-paper on
it and then came back.

"In two days you are to go to Paris--as you," to The Rat, "planned in
the game."

"As I planned?" The Rat barely breathed the words.

"Yes," answered Loristan. "The instructions you have learned you will
carry out. There is no more to be done than to manage to approach
certain pe