village, and offer to work at the commonest trade, at apprentices’ wages.  They settle there; they marry; they preach nothing but the value of honest work, and extreme sobriety, and respect for superiors.  Then, after some years, when they are regarded as beyond all suspicion, they begin, cautiously and slowly, to spread abroad their propaganda—­to teach respect rather for human liberty, for justice, for self-sacrifice, for those passions that prompt a nation to adventure everything for its freedom.  Well, you know the end.  The man may be found out—­banished or executed; but the association remains.  The Russians at this moment have no notion how wide-spread and powerful it is.”

“The head-quarters, are they in Russia itself?” asked Brand, on the watch for any admission.

“Who knows?” said the other, absently.  “Perhaps there are none.”

“None?  Surely there must be some power to say what is to be done, to enforce obedience?”

“What if each man finds that in himself?” said Lind, with something of the air of a dreamer coming over the firm and thoughtful and rugged face.  “It may be a brotherhood.  All associations do not need to be controlled by kings and priests and standing armies.”

“And the end of all this devotion, you say is Siberia or death?”

“For the man, perhaps; for his work, not.  It is not personal gain or personal safety that a man must have in view if he goes to do battle against the oppression that has crushed the world for centuries and centuries.  Do you not remember the answer given to the Czar by Michael Bestoujif when he was condemned?  It was only the saying of a peasant; but it is one of the noblest ever heard in the world.  ’I have the power to pardon you,’ said the Czar to him, ’and I would do so if I thought you would become a faithful subject.’  What was the answer?  ‘Sire,’ said Michael Bestoujif, ’that is our great misfortune, that the Emperor can do everything, and that there is no law.’”

“Ah, the brave man!” said Natalie Lind, quickly and passionately, with a flash of pride in her eyes.  “The brave man!  If I had a brother, I would ask him, ‘When will you show the courage of Michael Bestoujif?’”

Lord Evelyn glanced at her with a strange, admiring, proud look.  “If she had a brother!” What else, even with all his admiration and affection for her, could he hope to be?

Presently they wandered back into other and lighter subjects; and Brand, at least, did not notice how the time was flying.  When Natalie Lind rose, and asked her father whether he would have coffee sent into the smoking-room, or have tea in the drawing-room, Brand was quite astonished and disappointed to find it so late.  He proposed they should at once go up to the drawing-room; and this was done.

They had been speaking of musical instruments at dinner; and their host now brought them some venerable lutes to examine—­curiosities only, for most of the metal strings were broken.  Beautiful objects, however, they were, in inlaid ivory or tortoise-shell and ebony; made, as the various inscriptions revealed, at Bologna, or Padua, or Venice; and dating, some of them, as far back as 1474.  But in the midst of all this, Brand espied another instrument on one of the small tables.