I tell you, Dorward," he added, rising to his feet and walking to the window, "the patriotism of these people is something we colder races scarcely understand.

Perhaps it is because we have never dwelt under the shadow of a conqueror.

If ever Austria is given a free hand, it will be no mere war upon which she enters,--it will be a carnage, an extermination!" Dorward looked once more at the clock and rose slowly to his feet.
"Well," he said, "I mustn't keep His Excellency waiting.

Good-bye, and cheer up, Bellamy! Your old country isn't going to turn up her heels yet." Out he went--long, lank, uncouth, with yellow-stained fingers and hatchet-shaped, gray face--a strange figure but yet a power.
Bellamy remained.

For a while he seemed doubtful how to pass the time.