f they're barons and counts, and friends of your father's, they are
well-to-do enough to be responsible for you," said Mrs. Beedle, rather
fiercely, because she was somewhat over-awed and resented the fact.
"It's a matter of next week's rent, gentlemen. I want to know where
it's coming from."

The elder man looked at her with a swift cold glance. He did not speak
to her, but to Lazarus. "What is she doing here?" he demanded.

Marco answered him. "She is afraid we cannot pay our rent," he said.
"It is of great importance to her that she should be sure."

"Take her away," said the gentleman to Lazarus. He did not even glance
at her. He drew something from his coat-pocket and handed it to the
old soldier. "Take her away," he repeated. And because it seemed as if
she were not any longer a person at all, Mrs. Beedle actually shuffled
down the passage to the cellar-kitchen steps. Lazarus did not leave
her until he, too, had descended into the cellar kitchen, where he
stood and towered above her like an infuriated giant.

"To-morrow he will be on his way to Samavia, miserable woman!" he said.
"Before he goes, it would be well for you to implore his pardon."

But Mrs. Beedle's point of view was not his. She had recovered some of
her breath.

"I don't know where Samavia is," she raged, as she struggled to set her
dusty, black cap straight. "I'll warrant it's one of these little
foreign countries you can scarcely see on the map--and not a decent
English town in it! He can go as soon as he likes, so long as he pays
his rent before he does it. Samavia, indeed! You talk as if he was
Buckingham Palace!"

XXXI

"THE SON OF STEFAN LORISTAN"

When a party composed of two boys attended by a big soldierly
man-servant and accompanied by two distinguished-looking, elderly men,
of a marked foreign type, appeared on the platform of Charing Cross
Station they attracted a good deal of attention. In fact, the good
looks and strong, well-carried body of the handsome lad with the thick
black hair would have caused eyes to turn towards him even if he had
not seemed to be regarded as so special a charge by those who were with
him. But in a country where people are accustomed to seeing a certain
manner and certain forms observed in the case of persons--however
young--who are set apart by the fortune of rank and distinction, and
where the populace also rather enjoys the sight of such demeanor, it
was inevitable that more t