“You seem to forget, Calabressa, that your teaching has brought this man to his death,” Brand said.

“Why not?” said Calabressa, with a perfectly honest stare.  “Why not?  Was it not well done?  Was it not a fitting end?  Why I, even I, who watched him long, did not expect to see that:  his savagery falling away from him bit by bit; himself rising to this grand height, that he should give his life to save another:  I tell you it is a beautiful thing; he has understood what I taught him; he has seen clear.”

Calabressa was much excited, and very proud.  It seemed to him that he had saved a soul as he remarked in his ornate French.

“Perhaps it has all happened for the best,” Brand said; “perhaps it was the best that could have befallen that poor devil, too.  But you are mistaken, Calabressa, about his reasons for giving up his life like that.  It was not for the sake of a theory at all, admirable as your teachings may have been; it was for the sake of Natalie Lind.  He heard she was in trouble, and he learned the cause of it.  It was gratitude to her—­it was love for her—­that made him do this.”

Calabressa changed his ground in an instant.

“Assuredly—­assuredly, my dear friend:  do you think I fail to understand that—­I, who perceived that he worshipped that beautiful child as if she were a saint, and more than all the saints—­do you think I cannot mark that—­the sentiment of love, the fervor of worship, growing brighter and purer day by day until it burst into the beautiful flame of self-sacrifice?  My faith! this must be told at once.  Remain here a few moments, my dear Mr. Brand.  This is news indeed.”

“Wait a bit, Calabressa.  I came to you to get the name of Natalie’s hotel:  and where is Lord Evelyn?”

“One moment—­one moment,” said the old albino, as he went out and shut the door behind him.

When Calabressa ceased to talk in French, he ceased to use roundabout literary sentimental metaphors; and his report, delivered in the next room, would appear to have been brief enough; for almost immediately he returned, accompanied by Von Zoesch, to whom Brand was introduced.

“I am honored in making your acquaintance,” the tall soldier said, in a pleasant way.  “I have heard much of you; you are a good worker; likewise you do not flinch when a duty is demanded of you.  Perhaps, if you would only condescend to re-enforce the treasury sometimes, the Council would be still further grateful to you.  However, we are not to become beggars at a first interview—­and that a short one, necessarily—­for to-day we start for Genoa.”

“I am sorry for that,” Brand said, simply.  “There were some representations I wished to lay before the Council—­some very serious representations.”

“Perhaps some other time, then.  In the meanwhile, our hands are full.  And that reminds me that the news you bring makes one of my tasks to-day a pleasant one.  Yes, I remember something of that maniac-fellow babbling about a saint and an angel—­I heard of it.  So it was your beautiful Miss Lind who was the saint and the angel?  Well, do you know that I was about to give that young lady a very good scolding to-day?”