“Madame!” protested Graub, “I think so much of women that I have never married! Behold me, an unhappy bachelor! I have spared any one of your beautiful sex from the cruel martyrdom of having to endure my life-long company!” She laughed--a pretty low laugh, and extended her hand with an air of queenly condescension. “You are amusing!” she said,--“And so I will not quarrel with you! Good-night!” “Auf wiedersehn!” and Graub kissed the white hand he held. “I shall hope you will command me to be of service to you and yours, ere long!” “In what way, I wonder,” she asked dubiously; “What can you do best? Write? Speak? Or organize meetings?” “I think,” said Graub, speaking very deliberately, “that of all my various accomplishments, which are many--as I shall one day prove to you--I can poison best!” “Poison!” The exclamation broke simultaneously from all the company. Graub looked about him with a triumphant air. “Ah so,--I know I shall be useful,” he said; “I can poison so very beautifully and well! One little drop--one, little microbe of mischief--and I can make all your enemies die of cholera, typhoid, bubonic plague, or what you please! I am what is called a Christian scientific poisoner--that is a doctor! You will find me a most invaluable member of this Brotherhood!” He nodded his head wisely, and smiled. Sergius Thord laid one hand heavily on his shoulder. “We shall find you useful, no doubt!” he said, “But mark me well, friend! Our mission is not to kill, but to save!--not to poison, but to heal! If we find that by the death of one traitor we can save the lives of thousands, why then that traitor must die. If we know that by killing a king we destroy a country’s abuses, that king is sent to his account. But never without warning!--never without earnest pleading that he whom the laws of Truth condemn, may turn from the error of his ways and repent before it is too late. We are not murderers;--we are merely the servants of justice.” “Exactly!” put in Paul Zouche; “You understand? We try to be what God is not,--just!” “Blaspheme not, Zouche!” said Thord; “Justice is the very eye of God!--the very centre and foundation of the universe.” Zouche laughed discordantly.