"
Claiborne stretched out his arms and rested them along the shelf of the
mantel, and smiled with a smile which the dirt on his face weirdly
accented. His hat was gone, his short hair rumpled; he dug the bricks of
the hearth with the toe of his riding-boot as an emphasis of his
contentment with the situation.
"You don't understand the gravity of our labors. The peace of a great
Empire is at stake in this business. We are engaged on a patriotic
mission of great importance."
It was Durand who spoke. Outside, Zmai held the horses in readiness.
"You are a fine pair of patriots, I swear," said Claiborne. "What in the
devil do you want with John Armitage?"
"He is a menace to a great throne--an impostor--a--"
Chauvenet's eyes swept with a swift glance the cloak, the sword, the
scattered orders. Claiborne followed the man's gaze, but he looked
quickly toward Durand and Chauvenet, not wishing them to see that the
sight of these things puzzled him.
"Pretty trinkets! But such games as yours, these pretty baubles--are not
for these free hills."
"_Where is John Armitage_?"
Chauvenet half raised his right arm as he spoke and the steel of his
revolver flashed.
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