There was a short silence.  Sabatini glanced twice at his companion and smiled.

“I will read your thoughts, my young friend,” he continued.  “Your brain is a little confused.  You are wondering whether indeed I have robbed my elderly relative.  Expunge that word and all that it means to you from your vocabulary, if you can.  I took that to which I had a right by means of the weapons which have been given to me—­strength and opportunity.  These are the weapons which I have used through life.”

“Supposing the Cardinal had refused?” Arnold asked.

“One need not suppose,” Sabatini replied.  “It is not worth while.  I should probably have done what the impulse of the moment demanded.  So far, however, I have found most people reasonable.”

“There have been others, then?” Arnold demanded.

“There have been others,” Sabatini agreed calmly; “always people, however, upon whom I have had a certain claim.  Life to different people means different things.  Life to a person of my tastes and descent meant this—­it meant playing a part in the affairs of the country which gave me my birthright; it meant the carrying forward of a great enmity which has burned within the family of Sabatini for the house which now rules my country, for hundreds of years.  If I were a person who sought for excuses, I might say that I have robbed my relatives for the cause of the patriot.  Life to a sawer of wood means bread.  The two states themselves are identical.  The man who is denied bread breaks into riot and gains his ends.  I, when I have been denied what amounts to me as bread, have also helped myself.”

“I am not sure,” Arnold protested, frankly, “whether you are not amusing yourself with me.”

“Then let me put that doubt to rest, once and for all,” Sabatini replied.  “It does not amuse me to trifle with the truth.”

“Why do you make me your confidant?” Arnold asked.

“Because it is my intention to make a convert of you,” Sabatini said calmly.

Arnold shook his head.

“I am afraid that that is quite hopeless,” he answered.  “I have not the excuse of a country which needs my help, although I have more than one relative,” he added, with a smile, “whom I should not mind taking by the throat.”

“One needs no excuse,” Sabatini murmured.

“When one—­”

He hesitated.

“I have no scruples,” Sabatini interrupted, “in using the word which seems to trouble you.  Perhaps I am a robber.  What, however, you do not appreciate is that nine-tenths of the people in the world are in the same position.”

“I cannot admit that either,” Arnold protested.