It was half-past twelve when I was beaten to a pulp as a last desperate resort by my supposed friends. The scene of my disaster was as one could imagine.

Overturned cupboards, broken panes of glass and the innards of slit open cushions were scattered over the floor. A window had been opened through which my comrades had fled the scene and now it was letting in the fog instead.

Yet Lord Leo himself simply arched his eyebrows as though the only annoyance was that I had dragged him from his bed.

"Forgotten something?" said he, when he saw me bleeding on his carpet.

"No," said I, pushing past my pain without ceremony.

"They have left you as a decoy, haven't they? Because I'm afraid it has worked. I can't give you the courtesy of taking that into consideration concerning your punishment. I am kinda sorry myself that the others—"

We were face to face now, and I cut him short. "Lord," said I, "you may well be surprised at my break-in this way and at this hour. I do not know you. I was never in your rooms before tonight. I simply did what I had to do to survive. Of course that's no excuse; but will you listen to me—for two minutes?"

In my emotion I had at first to struggle for every word; but his face reassured me as I went on, and I was not mistaken in its expression.

"Certainly, my dear man," said he; "as many minutes as you like. Take a breath and sit up." And the Lord uprighted a discarded chair for himself and took a seat.

"No," said I, finding a full voice as I shook my head; "no, I won't take a breath, and I won't sit up, thank you. Nor will you ask me to do either when you've heard what I have to say."

"Really?" said he, resting his head on one hand and fixating his clear red eyes upon me. "How do you know?"

"Because you'll execute me," I cried bitterly; "and you will be justified in doing it! But it's no use beating about the bush. You know these crooks were my only friends just now?"

He shrugged.

"I trusted them with my life."

"I see the result of that."

"I would have fought for them with my life, and I would have died for them happily."

"Well?"

"Not one of them hesitated in the decision to leave me behind, Lord. I am not even worth the carpet I've been slayed upon!"

"Surely you must not be without talent."

"No, there is nothing to speak of."

"But the guards told me that their comrades were shot right into the eyes with an arrow from a distance of 50 yards. And I have been informed that there was only one bowman on your team. As I see now that must be you, or is that not your bow that lies broken next to you?"

"So what if it is? All my talent for archery has been my curse; now even that is all gone! Yes, I've been a fool for thinking of those men as my friends; there never was nor will be such a fool as I've been... Isn't this enough for you? Why don't you punish me now?"

He was musterring me.

"Couldn't your people take care of you?" he asked at length.

"Thank Anankos," I cried, "I have no people! I was an only child. I came from nothing and will leave this earth with nothing. My one comfort is that they're gone, and will never know the things I suffered through."

I cast myself into a hunched position and hid my face. The Lord started to pace the rich carpet that was of a piece with everything else in his rooms. There was no variation in his soft and even footfalls.

"I believe that if a lost eye is no handicap for an archer of your caliber, then there lies your profession," he said at length; "didn't you try being a mercenary before you became a thief? Mercenaries of all sorts are the very thing nowadays; any fool can make a living at it."

I shook my head. "Any fool wouldn't hire an archer with one eye," said I.

"Then if you have that much financial trouble you do have to sell the things you own. You have a flat somewhere?" he went on.

"Yes, in Mount Street."

"Well, what about the furniture?"

I laughed aloud in my misery. "There's been a bill of sale on every stick for months!"

"How am I to help you?"

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Then why confide in me?"

"Why, indeed!" I echoed.

And at that the Lord stood still, with raised eyebrows and stern eyes that I could meet the better now that he knew the worst; then, with a shrug, he resumed his walk, and for some minutes neither of us spoke. But in his handsome, unmoved face I read my fate and death-warrant; and with every breath I cursed my folly and my cowardice in talking to him at all. Because he had seemed kind to me, I had dared to look for kindness from him now; because I was ruined, and he rich enough to read books all the summer, and do nothing for the rest of the year, I had fatuously counted on his mercy, his sympathy, his words! Yes, I had relied on him in my heart, for all my outward diffidence and humility; and I was rightly served. There was as little of mercy as of sympathy in that curling nostril, that rigid jaw, those cold red eyes which never glanced my way. I would have run without a word; but the Lord stood between me and the open window.

"I know far well what the law is in regard to burglary. Getting caught is a death sentence. So I beg of you. Do it now and do it quick!", I was positively spitting the words at him now.

Magical diagrams of the lords tome started to glow beneath me. The despicable satisfaction of involving another in one's destruction added its miserable appeal to my baser egoism. Mad with excitement as I was, ruined, dishonored, and now finally determined to accept the end of my misspent life, my only surprise to this day is that he did not do it then and there. Had hate or disgust flown to my executioner's face, I shudder to think I might have died diabolically happy with that look for my last impious consolation. It was the look that came instead which held my breath. Neither hate nor disgust were in it; only wonder, admiration, and such a measure of pleased expectancy as caused me after all to falter.

For many seconds we stood staring in each other's eyes.

"Have you gone mad?" said he, breaking the spell in a tone so cynical that it brought my last drop of blood to the boil.

"You devil!" said I, as I recoiled from him. "I believe you don't understand!"

"Not quite," was the reply, made with a little start, and a change of color that came too late. "To tell you the truth, though, I half thought you meant it, and I was never more fascinated in my life. No, I'm hanged if I let you go either way now. And you'd better not try that game again, for you won't catch me stand and look on a second time. We must think of some way out of this mess. I had no idea you were a man of that sort! There, let me help you up."

One of his hands fell kindly on my shoulder, while the other slipped into my overcoat pocket, and I suffered him to deprive me of my secondary weapon without a murmur. I obliged and this was not simply because the Lord had the subtle power of making himself irresistible at will. He was beyond comparison the most masterful man whom I have ever known; yet my acquiescence was due to more than the mere subjection of the weaker nature to the stronger. The forlorn hope which had brought me to the castle of Krakenburg was turned as by magic into an almost staggering sense of safety. Lord Leo would help me. It was as though all the world had come round suddenly to my side; so far therefore from resisting his action, I caught and clasped his hand with a fervor as uncontrollable as the frenzy which had preceded it.

"May Anankos bless you!" I praised. "Forgive me for everything. I will tell you the truth. I DID think you might help me in ending my extremity, though I well knew that I had no claim upon your magic prowess. Still—for the dusk dragons sake—the sake of nohrian law—I thought you might give me the sweet relief of death. If you wouldn't I meant to do it myself—and I will still if you change your mind! Though I must thank you for giving me another chance!"

In truth I feared that it was changing, with his expression, even as I spoke, and in spite of his kindly tone and kindlier use of body language. His next words showed me my mistake.

"What a guy you are for jumping to conclusions! I have my vices, but backing and filling is not one of them. Sit down, my good fellow, and have a drink to soothe your nerves. I insist. Whiskey? The worst thing for you; here's some coffee that I was brewing when you came in. Now listen to me. You speak of 'another chance.' What do you mean? Another chance at burglary? Not if I know it! No, my dear man, you've plunged enough. Do you put yourself in my hands or do you not? Very well, then you plunge no more, and I undertake not to execute you. Unfortunately there are the other culprits; and still more unfortunately, I am as much in a predicament at this moment as you are yourself!"

It was my turn to stare at Lord Leo. "You?" I vociferated. "You in a situation between life and death? How am I to sit here and believe that?"

"Did I refuse to believe it of you?" he returned, smiling. "And, with your own experience, do you think that because a fellow has rooms in this place, and belongs to royalty, and plays a little by the rules, he must necessarily have an enviable life? I tell you, my dear man, that at this moment I'm as hard up as you ever were. I have nothing but my wits to live on—absolutely nothing else. It was as necessary for me to succeed this evening as it was for you. We're in the same boat, my friend; we'd better pull together."

"Together!" I jumped at it. "I'll do anything in this world for you, Lord," I said, "if you really mean that you won't force me away. Think of anything you like, and I'll do it! I was a desperate man when I came here, and I'm just as desperate now. I don't mind what I do if only I can get out of this remorselessly."

Again I see him, leaning back in one of the luxurious chairs with which his room was furnished. I see his indolent, athletic figure; his pale, sharp, clean-shaven features; his straight blonde hair; his strong, unscrupulous mouth. And again I feel the clear beam of his wonderful eyes, cold and luminous as a star, shining into my brain—sifting the very secrets of my heart.

"I wonder if you mean all that!" he said at length. "You do in your present mood; but who can back his mood to last? Still, there's hope when a man takes that tone. Now I think of it, too, you were a plucky little devil; you sneaked in quite brilliantly. Well, wait a bit, and perhaps I'll be able to give you a chance to outdo yourself. Give me time to think."

He got up, took a last sip from his coffee, and fell to pacing the room once more, but with a slower and more thoughtful step, and for a much longer period than before. Twice he stopped at my chair as though on the point of speaking, but each time he checked himself and resumed his stride in silence. Once he threw up the window, which he had shut some time since, and stood for some moments leaning out into the fog which filled the courtyard. Meanwhile a clock on the chimney-piece struck one, and one again for the half-hour, without a word between us.

Yet I not only kept my chair with patience, but I acquired an incongruous equanimity in that half-hour. Insensibly I had shifted my burden to the narrow shoulders of this splendid friend, and my thoughts wandered with my eyes as the minutes passed.

The room was the good-sized, square one, with the folding doors, the marble mantel-piece, and the gloomy, old-fashioned distinction peculiar to the nohrian west. It was charmingly furnished and arranged, with the right amount of negligence and the right amount of taste.

What struck me most, however, was the absence of the usual insignia of a royal's den. Instead of the conventional rack of war-worn weaponry, a carved oak bookcase, with every shelf in a litter, filled the better part of one wall; and where I looked for ancestry charts, I found reproductions of such works as "The art of decrypting magical runes" and "A comparative analysis on the usage of the tomes Ragnarok and Fenrir," in dusty book covers and different parallels.

The man might have been a major scholar instead of a brute mage of the first water. But there had always been a fine streak of aestheticism in the complex profession of witchcraft; some of these very books had forbidden content—they set me thinking of yet another of his many sides—and of the little breach of customs to which he had just resorted.

Everybody knows how largely the tone of a kingdom depends on that of the nobility, and on the character of the royal children in particular; and I have never heard it said that in this time our tone was good, or that such influence as he troubled to exert was on the side of the angels. Yet it was whispered in the streets that he and his siblings were in the habit of indirectly defying their father's orders wherever they could unnoticeably. It was whispered, and disbelieved. I alone knew it for a fact; for this night I witnessed it.

He stopped and stood over my chair once more.

"I've been thinking of a way to set things right," he began. "Why do you start?"

"I was thinking of it too."

He smiled, as though he had read my thoughts.

"Well, you seem the right sort of beggar just before; you didn't talk and you didn't flinch. I wonder if you're up for a challenge?"

"I don't know," said I, slightly puzzled by his tone. "I've made such a mess of my own affairs that I trust myself about as little as I'm likely to be trusted by anybody else. Yet I never in my life went back on a friend. I will say that, otherwise perhaps I mightn't be in such a hole tonight."

"Exactly," said Lord Leo, nodding to himself, as though in assent to some hidden train of thought; "exactly what I need, and I'll bet it's as true now as it was ten years ago. We don't alter, my friend. We only develop. You would stick at nothing for your Lord—what?"

"At nothing in this world," I was pleased to agree.

"Not even at a crime?" said Lord Leo, smiling.

I stopped to think, for his tone had changed, and I felt sure he was chaffing me. Yet his eyes seemed as much in earnest as ever, and for my part I was in no mood for reservations.

"No, not even at that," I declared; "name your crime, and I'm your man."

He looked at me one moment in wonder, and another moment in doubt; then turned the matter off with a shake of his head, and the little cynical laugh that was all his own.

"You're a nice man! A real desperate character—what? Suicide one moment, and any crime I like the next! What you want is a chance, my friend, and you did well to come to a decent law-abiding Lord with a reputation to lose. Nonetheless we must have it resolved tonight—by hook or crook."

"Tonight, milord?"

"The sooner the better. Every hour after ten o'clock tomorrow morning is an hour of risk. Let one of those overly loyal royalists find out what we are up to, and you and I are executed together. No, we must settle our affairs tonight and do so quickly. And I rather think I know where to start."

"At two o'clock in the morning?"

"Yes."

"But how—but where—at such an hour?"

"We'll visit a sister of mine here in Castle Krakenburg."

"You must be very intimate!"

"Intimate's not the word. I have the knowledge of this place and a latch-key all to myself."

"You would knock her up at this hour of the night?"

"If she's in bed.", said he with clear amusement in his eyes at my choice of words.

"And it's essential that I should go in with you?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I must; but I'm bound to say I don't like the idea, milord."

"Do you prefer the alternative?" asked my companion, with a sneer. "No, hang it, that's unfair!" he cried apologetically in the same breath. "I quite understand. It's a beastly ordeal. But it would never do for you to stay outside. I tell you what, you shall have a peg before we start—just one. There's the whiskey, here's a syphon, and I'll be putting on my armor while you help yourself."

Well, I daresay I did so with some freedom, for this plan of his was not the less distasteful to me from its apparent inevitability. I must own, however, that it possessed fewer terrors before my glass was empty. Meanwhile Leo rejoined me, with his armor, and a soft felt collar attached to it. He shook his head with a smile as I passed him the decanter.

"When we come back," said he. "Work first, play afterward. Do you see what day it is?" he added, tearing a leaflet from a calendar, as I drained my glass. "March 15th. 'The Ides of March, the Ides of March, remember.' Eh, those days, my friend? You won't forget them, will you?"

And, with a laugh, he threw some coals on the fireplace before snuffing out the candles like a careful householder. So we went out together as the clock on the chimney-piece was striking two.