their fellow-creatures, and the regeneration of the whole earth, she
went quietly about her duties as stable boy.

When she had finished she set the lantern at the furthest end of the
stable, and pulling off her hat and black curly wig stretched herself
wearily at full length on a truss of hay in a dark corner among the
tethered horses. The ways of men she had begun to fear and hate, but
of the beasts she had no fear, for they were always grateful to those
who cared for them, and they also had suffered at the hands of their
masters.

A lethargy had taken possession of her whole body, and her limbs felt
heavily weighted. She closed her eyes and sank inertly into the bed of
soft and fragrant hay.

Her loose shirt of faded dusky red had fallen open at the throat, and
showed the dead-white skin. Her feet, in riding boots of brown
leather, were crossed beneath the dark drapery of her cloak. A leather
strap served as a belt for the slender hips that were more like those
of a boy than a woman. The horses fidgeted and stamped, and a mule
dragged at its halter with laid-back ears and vicious sidelong glances.
Sometimes a stirrup or a bit clashed against another with a musical
ring and jingle.

Arithelli heard nothing till she awoke to find herself in Vardri's
arms, and being lifted into a sitting position with her back against
the wall.

In answer to her sleepy murmur of surprise, a hand was laid over her
mouth with a whispered--"_Gare a toi petite! ne fais pas de bruit_."

She sat up fully awake, and swept the veil of hair out of her eyes.

"Oh! it's you, _mon ami_! Is it time to go? I must get up and see to
the horses."

But he held her kneeling by her side.

"No, no! Lie still, dear. There's time enough. Yes, Sobrenski is
still talking. Can't you hear him? You had my letter safely?"

She laid her hand on her breast.

"It's here."

"Thank you! How long is it since I've seen you? It seems like a
century. Those brutes up there were driving me mad with their
cold-blooded arrangements for wholesale murder. The latest idea is to
explode a bomb outside one of the big _cafes_ when Alfonso comes here
next week to inspect the troops. They might as well leave him alone.
What harm has he done them? As long as they can see people flying into
atoms with the help of a little nitroglycerine they are quite happy.
Vengeance, vengeance! That is their eternal cry. Of course in Russia
it's a different thing.