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 OF CAD 
 
 THE 
 SOCIALIST 
 
 AND THE 
 
 PRINCE 
 
 M'RS. 
 
 F'REMOfiT 
 OLVE'R 
 
 PRICE 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS 
 COMPANY 
 
SOCIALIST 
 
 and the 
 
 PRINCE 
 
 Novel of California Life 
 
 THE scenes and action are in the days of the anti- 
 Chinese labor agitation. Paul Stryne, leader of 
 the workingmen, and Ruspoli, an Italian prince, 
 are rivals for the hand of Theodosia Peyton, the daughter 
 of a millionaire. Swayed now by the courtly grace and 
 subtle class sympathy of the prince, now by the master- 
 ful will and altruistic purpose of the socialist, the impres- 
 sionable girl, in a mood which overpowers her for the 
 time, betroths herself first to one and then to the other. 
 There are many situations of dramatic power, from the 
 love scenes to the street riots, and from the altruist's 
 lofty orations to the jealous lover's duel with Prince 
 Ruspoli. Social conditions are strongly contrasted, and 
 the interest is intense throughout. 
 
 Price, $1.50 
 
 MRS. FREMONT OLDER 
 
The Socialist and the Prince 
 
Br 
 
Socialist and the Prince 
 
 MRS. FREm* 
 
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 LOOKED AT HEX 
 n'AIT/\<- FOK II Eh' TO SPEAK 
 
The 
 Socialist and the Prince 
 
 MRS. FREMONT OLDER 
 
 Frontispiece By 
 HAPRISON FISHER 
 
 f w VCr 1 ^ rX 
 
 A OF 
 
 I UNfV 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 
 New York and London 
 
 1903 
 
Copyright, 1903, 
 
 by 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 Registered at Stationer's Hall, London 
 
 Published, February, 1903 
 [Printtd in the United State* of A t*rica] 
 
3 F UIJF/-F7 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. "THE CHINESE MUST Go!" . . . i 
 
 II. THE SAND-LOT 17 
 
 III. NOB HILL, 28 
 
 IV. THE PRINCE 4l 
 
 V. THE ARREST OF STRYNE 55 
 
 VI. THEODOSIA'S SIX-IN-HAND, . . . . . 66 
 
 VII. THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID 79 
 
 VIII. THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST, ... 91 
 
 IX. THE BIRTH OF A PARTY 103 
 
 X. THEODOSIA EXAMINES HERSELF, . . . .in 
 
 XI. STALKING THE LION, 119 
 
 XII. THE DINNER TO STRYNE, 127 
 
 XIII. THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN, . . . .141 
 
 "XIV. STRYNE'S DICTATORSHIP, . . . . 156 
 
 XV. THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION, . . .165 
 
 XVI. THE ARTIST OF LOVE, .... . 177 
 
 XVII. VIOLETS, 191 
 
 XVIII. THE PRINCE RECEIVES His CONGE, . . .206 
 
 XIX. THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD, . . .213 
 
 XX. THEODOSIA TORMENTS HER LOVER, . . .230 
 
 XXI. THE GAGE OF BATTLE, 335 
 
 XXII. THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM, . . . 241 
 v 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIII. THE DUEL, . . 259 
 
 XXIV. THE LOSER WINS 271 
 
 XXV. A VIOLET BRIDAL 283 
 
 XXVI. THE PASSING OF STRYNE 287 
 
 XXVII. STRUGGLING BACK TO LIFE, .... 292 
 XXVIII. THE LAST MEETING, 300 
 
The Socialist and the Prince 
 
A deep, low murmur swelling from the ground ; 
 
 A man impassioned, round whose nervous form 
 Eddied and swept a gale of gathering sound, 
 
 A deep-toned presage of the coming storm ; 
 
 A sea of faces ; and the sand-lots scored 
 By countless feet as, rising from his lair, 
 
 The lion Labor shook his mane and roared 
 A potent challenge through the darkening air ; 
 
 A sudden silence eloquent as death ; 
 
 And in the hush, as Destiny drew nigh, 
 A mighty spirit from the Lion's breath 
 
 Born in the land and nevermore to die. 
 
 LOWELL O. RBBSE. 
 
 Viif 
 
THE SOCIALIST 
 AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Chapter I 
 "THE CHINESE MUST GO!" 
 
 [URING the seventies nothing was extraor- 
 dinary in San Francisco because every- 
 thing was extraordinary. 
 
 The rainbow's pot of gold was found on Twin 
 Peaks. It was quite possible. 
 
 Aladdin's lantern could be had for the asking. No 
 one doubted it. 
 
 Jack's beanstalk had grown to the sky. Stars 
 might be plucked by those who would climb. Was 
 anything more logical ? 
 
 Foot passengers were warned against stubbing 
 their toes : there was danger of falling upon Corn- 
 stock quartz projecting from the ground. 
 
 The gracious goddess Fortuna dwelt on Tamal- 
 pais. Life was too brief and merry to clamber up 
 the sides of the purple mountain. Let Fortuna her- 
 self ascend there were other goddesses to woo. 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 San Francisco was a drunk, delirious city. The 
 population was divided into two classes, millionaires 
 and those who hoped to be millionaires. 
 
 There is no hunger when thousands feast upon 
 hope. A prospective owner of a bonanza could not 
 make himself absurd by complaining of no breakfast. 
 Amidst the sweat and smell of the workshop laborers 
 considered the cut of their lackeys' livery. 
 
 The working man was never more prosperous. The 
 working man was never more discontented. He had 
 seen his companions close their eyes and open their 
 hands. Directly the tail of a comet showered pre- 
 cious stones. These men gathered their treasures 
 indifferently, drifted away from toil, spoke like gen- 
 tlemen, looked like gentlemen, and were gentle- 
 men. 
 
 Presently the working man believed something 
 wrong when Seal Rocks did not nourish roses, and 
 strawberries refused to thrive on sand-lots. 
 
 In the middle of the seventies came a cataclysm 
 that changed the surface of San Francisco. A great 
 bank failed. 
 
 That such an event could occur was a shock to the 
 hope of the city. It was a hard world of reality 
 after all. One could be sad in California as well as 
 in the East, South, or across the seas from whence 
 these adventurers came. 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GO!" 
 
 Even those who had not lost by the failure of the 
 bank felt hungry after the occurrence. 
 
 Another catastrophe befell the city. Gold had 
 been gushing from the veins of the gigantic Mazeppa 
 mine. It was strange that none recognized the arte- 
 rial blood flooding the State. The Mazeppa was 
 dead. 
 
 Some dreamer had believed that still another heart 
 of treasure might be found in this mine of Ophir. 
 At one time quite probable, now it was as remote as 
 the rainbow's base or Aladdin's lamp. 
 
 The peach-blossom hue left the air. Joy, youth, 
 hope, ambition perished. Men, women, and chil- 
 dren were hungry. They were even reduced to wish- 
 ing that two " bits " might be changed into nickels. 
 Many laboring men were idle. 
 
 The middle classes felt the pinch of need. The 
 millionaires went back to the bar or sluice-box. To 
 this day their descendants boast of the sums their 
 grandfathers lost, and thus alleviate their present 
 poverty. 
 
 There are still extant the deserted foundations of 
 vast buildings begun at that period, but never fin- 
 ished. 
 
 Nickels were seen in currency. Values assumed 
 rational form. The boom had burst. 
 
 It was not until then the laborer realized that, 
 3 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 while he had allowed himself to become intoxicated 
 by the aroma of his harvest, thousands of yellow, in- 
 significant worms had curled into the blossoms and 
 destroyed them before the fruit came. These were 
 the Chinamen. 
 
 If a cook was out of employment she was told that 
 a Chinaman had taken her place. Laundrymen lost 
 their clients because the Chinamen underbid them. 
 Seamstresses famished while Chinamen performed 
 their work. It was unfortunately true that the 
 Chinaman usually labored more conscientiously than 
 the Caucasian. 
 
 The Chinamen spent nothing for necessities or 
 luxuries. None but California, the fabled land of 
 riches, could endure the outflow of gold sent to China. 
 There was no return from it except more Chinamen. 
 
 They came by every boat. They came over the 
 borders. When news arrived of the plague in the 
 Orient, the working man cried, " There is no plague 
 but Chinamen." 
 
 Railroad builders, capitalists, fetched them by the 
 hundred, and grew rich from the putrid social condi- 
 tions of the rotting empires of the East. 
 
 There was no one to protest but a few politicians 
 during campaigns. Objections ceased with election. 
 The Chinaman promised to be a serviceable political 
 issue of perennial utility. 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GOt" 
 
 Idle men huddled together and discussed their 
 wrongs in the squares, parks, and on street corners. 
 Often moved by their passions they swept into the 
 Chinese localities, set fire to the buildings, and killed 
 the occupants as they fled from the flames. 
 
 After the tempest of wrath subsided, nothing de- 
 cisive or effective was done. 
 
 Sometimes San Francisco had a presentiment that 
 it was to be destroyed by fire. This premonition 
 seemed about to be fulfilled one evening. While 
 the safety committee was discussing how to protect 
 property and life, a cry went up the throat of the 
 city that the Pacific Mail dock had been set on fire. 
 It was thought to be the beginning of a general con- 
 flagration, and rioting began. In the struggle to 
 suppress the rioters several laborers were killed. 
 
 The following day in every workshop and factory 
 circulars were distributed. On them in black letters 
 was printed : 
 
 This Evening 
 At GOLDEN GATE TEMPLE 
 
 A Working Man 
 
 WILL SAY 
 
 SOMETHING TO WORKING MEN 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 These leaflets were scattered wherever a laborer 
 could be found, and were circulated by one man 
 walking slowly. He appeared to take the measure 
 of those he met. As he exchanged a few words with 
 each recipient of his pamphlet he seemed to talk 
 merely to observe. The calm gaze of his gray eyes 
 fell upon the city in the same way. This stranger 
 gave the impression of making an accurate map of 
 San Francisco to be stowed away in his brain. 
 
 Every one turned to look at him because he wore 
 a long, dark-blue cape lined with scarlet, extending 
 nearly to his knees. Altho his hat was of the black 
 felt common in the West, the fact that the broad 
 brim was bent upward flat against the front of the 
 crown made it marked. 
 
 Except for these two features the man might have 
 been unnoticed, for he was not handsome as beauty 
 is reckoned. His head had been modeled as it were 
 by a vigorous, impulsive, masculine hand, which left 
 it full of straight, inartistic, abrupt lines. His feat- 
 ures had a crude, lumpy, unfinished appearance. A 
 piece of flesh expanding into broad, coarse nostrils 
 was his nose. True, steady eyes hid themselves in 
 rough caverns. The man's brow was thick and 
 strong, and the chin was its counterpart. It was a 
 head that told of growling, terrible passions. 
 
 As the stranger walked the streets, from the man- 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GO! 
 
 ner of holding his sturdy, heavy shoulders erect, in 
 the poise of his head, in the resolute way of closing 
 his lips, one read the surety of the lion's keeper who 
 has tamed his own beast. The man knew just where 
 to cudgel himself. 
 
 That evening Golden Gate Temple was filled, unto 
 the highest gallery, by laborers, their wives, some curi- 
 ous spectators, and the reporters. It was something 
 more than the usual assemblage of discontented when 
 one of their number speaks. The better sort of 
 artisan was present. 
 
 When the president of one of the unions arose to 
 make a preamble to the introduction of the speaker, 
 the audience became restless. The hope that he 
 would soon finish enforced attention. The stranger, 
 noting the faces surrounding him, listened to his pre- 
 decessor. 
 
 With his hat and cape removed, the man looked 
 like an American. Yet he might easily have been 
 a Frenchman or German, altho he was a perfect type 
 of no one race. 
 
 McCann, the president of the union, had few op- 
 portunities to address so large an audience. He was 
 a huge, red-faced Irishman, and, charmed by the 
 swells and glides of his own voice, dragged on weary- 
 ingly. Finally the stranger was the only person 
 listening to McCann, 
 
 7 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 His eloquence promised to be endless when fifty 
 voices chorused : " Shut up, McCann ; you ain't the 
 whole show. Give the other fellow a chance. " 
 
 McCann could not talk against the tide, and so he 
 ceased speaking of himself and, motioning his hand 
 toward the stranger, said : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen : I have the pleasure to 
 interduce to ye a brother working man, Mr. Stryne 
 Mr. Paul Stryne, the distinguished traveler and social 
 philosopher. You all know of him." 
 
 None, of them had heard his name before. Mc- 
 Cann made his acquaintance but that morning. Yet 
 they all applauded and cheered as Stryne bowed his 
 acknowledgments. 
 
 There was something in the speaker's salutation 
 which irritated the audience. His heels almost 
 came together and the bow was that of a man of 
 rank. For a moment the audience was chilled. 
 They felt that he was not one of them, and that 
 they were about to be lectured. 
 
 The people were reassured by Stryne' s clothing, 
 for a handkerchief, knotted loosely about the neck of 
 his blue flannel shirt, took the place of a collar. As 
 he arose to the height of five feet ten, he seemed 
 like a boy prematurely old. He was not more than 
 thirty. 
 
 After the applause subsided, Stryne began in a 
 8 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GO!" 
 
 low, deep voice, which was but a whisper of the 
 reservoir of tone from which it was drawn : 
 
 " MEN AND WOMEN : How many are there present 
 who want to hear lies ? Hands up. Good ! None. 
 How many here want to listen to the truth ? Every- 
 body ! Everybody ! This is God's country after all. 
 Very well, men and women, if you have the truth, 
 remember it is not my fault. It is yours. You 
 have voted for it. You shall have it." 
 
 These first few words convinced that he was an 
 American working man. As Stryne continued his 
 voice lost its music. The notes broke into discord, 
 but they shrieked into the listeners' ears and held 
 the thought. 
 
 " I have been introduced as a traveler and philoso- 
 pher. Let me disabuse your minds. I am a laborer, 
 a working man, like yourselves, and when I die I 
 want no other obituary An American, a working 
 man. 
 
 "To be sure, I have seen more countries of the 
 globe than this. I will tell you why. In the begin- 
 ning I was a seaman. When I left my ship, want 
 drove me from England to France, France to Ger- 
 many, Germany to Italy, and from Italy back to the 
 United States, my home. I can paint you no brill- 
 iant picture of my travels, for I saw only the poverty 
 and misery of those countries. 
 
 9 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Which is the best government, you ask ? Which 
 is the worst? God knows. Everywhere it is the 
 same story of protecting those who have and taking 
 from those that have not. This crime has been 
 seared into my eyes. Even in the United States, 
 the Utopia of Jean Jacques, the ideal of Jefferson, 
 the poor man is begging for work and the rich man 
 is saying: ' You can't have it. I will goto Asia for 
 laborers. Starve. I must grow richer. ' In the 
 United States this happens, and we, you and I, fools, 
 allow it." 
 
 When the applause forced Stryne to cease speak- 
 ing he said in somewhat lowered tones : 
 
 " MEN AND WOMEN : I am glad of your approval, 
 for it shows that I am saying for you what you all feel 
 and think. That is why you applaud. It is because 
 I am your voice, because I am telling you the truth. 
 
 " This is the beginning but not the end of our ac- 
 quaintance. We will battle for labor, for our right, 
 and the truth many years. If ever you find I have 
 deserted you and justice, men and women, hang me, 
 I shall deserve it." 
 
 Stryne raised his hands in the air as he uttered 
 these last words with a cry that reached the street. 
 His fingers were knotty and compact, not so much 
 from toil as from character. The wrists were as 
 bluntly square and firm as his chin. 
 
 10 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GO!" 
 
 " First, men and women, I ask your permission to 
 remove my coat. I never can talk with it on." 
 
 This act placed the stranger upon a footing of 
 years of personal friendship with the spectators. 
 His cheeks had flushed, his eyes darkened, and his 
 brown hair was loosened unconsciously. As he 
 stood before the audience he might not have been 
 more than one and twenty. Speaker and listeners 
 realized that they were connected by currents of 
 sympathy that were destined to weld them together. 
 
 " If any man has a right to talk at a time of de- 
 pression like this, it is I. Let me tell you, want 
 rocked my cradle and I sucked the teat of hunger. 
 I cried to my mother for bread and she gave me tears. 
 I have trod the thorny valley of pain. Ever at my 
 side was the black shadow of misery, the companion 
 who never deserted me. The only philosophy I un- 
 derstand is that of grief. 
 
 " My friends, do you know why I am here speak- 
 ing to you this minute ? It is because of a sight I 
 saw last night. Four poor young men, laborers, were 
 shot down while defending Chinamen for a corpo- 
 ration of millionaires. They were volunteers who 
 perished as nobly as any soldier. Where were the 
 men whose property was attacked ? At their clubs ; 
 in their houses on Nob Hill, eating ten-course din- 
 ners with their mistresses ; in their yachts on the 
 
 ii 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Mediterranean in any place but where they should 
 be. 
 
 " Was any capitalist, bloated from the blood of the 
 people, killed ? Was any son of the plutocrat shot ? 
 No. Last night, as always, it was the poor man's 
 son, the poor mother's son who died. My impulse, 
 friends, was as generous as yours. I, also, was there 
 defending the property of the Pacific Mail. When 
 a nineteen-year-old boy fell over into my arms dead, 
 I left you all. 
 
 " I said, ' Here we are dying for the rich and their 
 Chinamen. Men, women, I've not slept since. One 
 thought, one purpose has frenzied me, to arouse you to 
 the use of the power that is in your hands, the ballot. " 
 
 Perhaps it was not so much what Stryne said as 
 his vehemence of utterance that held the audience 
 dry- lipped awaiting more words. Greater approba- 
 tion than applause came silence. 
 
 " In the beginning I was asked the difference be- 
 tween the United States and the countries across the 
 Atlantic. It is this : Here it is possible for each 
 of us to have as much power in election as a Vander- 
 bilt, a Gould, or an Astor. We all have reform in 
 our hands. Let the laboring men organize into a 
 solid mass which no charge from capital can break, 
 and I tell you we will force justice from the gullets 
 of the men on Nob Hill." 
 
 12 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GO!" 
 
 Stryne mopped his brow and the cords of his thick 
 neck stood out like pencils. He realized that these 
 simple impressionable beings before him had sur- 
 rendered their souls to him, and he went on as if in- 
 spired by it. A smile crept about his lips at times 
 as he spoke, and beautified his countenance. It 
 broke the straight line of his mouth and gave it a 
 gentle expression. The smile was doubly effective 
 since for the most part his features were grim, de- 
 termined, and sad. What the smile betokened no 
 one could explain. To the audience it was the 
 promise of hope, a rainbow illumining the world. 
 
 " Now, men and women, I want you to talk. Are 
 we to keep on defending Chinamen? Are we to 
 keep on defending Nob Hill, or are we to work for 
 ourselves and the right ? " 
 
 The audience failed not to respond with its brassy 
 shrieks of " Yes ! " Hats were thrown into the air, 
 and the speaker realized that they and their passions 
 were under his control. 
 
 " Good, my friends. You have decided it. You 
 have voted. 
 
 "Men, working men, I appeal to you. Let me 
 hear your voice again. How many present want to 
 see your honest wives in rags that the capitalists 
 may have harlots? 
 
 " Not one ! 
 
 13 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " How many have the heart to tell their children 
 that there is no bread to be had because there is no 
 work?" 
 
 Stryne's audience was growling with him. He 
 shook his head and waved his fist until he was like 
 a madman to all but the reporters. The men had 
 reached the point where he could have issued any 
 commands and they would obey. 
 
 " Mothers, women, when you go to your homes to- 
 night and find no food for your babes, it is not your 
 fault, it is not your good man's fault. It is because 
 it has been shipped across the seas to China. It 
 has been stolen from you by great railroad builders, 
 by great capitalists. Those jewels on my lady's 
 bosom are yours. They belong to your hungry chil- 
 dren. Are you willing to give up your food, women 
 of the people of San Francisco, that those haughty 
 dames who are no better than you may blaze at the 
 opera?" 
 
 The flame of his youth and energy leaped from his 
 lips and enkindled them all. 
 
 " I put it to you together, are you going to have 
 liberty, or are you going to be chattels ? I ask the 
 great common man, the people the word that next 
 to liberty smacks the sweetest." 
 
 Stryne's soul was in his mouth and he launched 
 forth into a review of California as he had learned 
 
 *4 
 
THE CHINESE MUST GO!" 
 
 it in a few weeks. Not a man present could have 
 given it more accurately. He spoke of the present 
 and the future as it might be at the working man's 
 behest. 
 
 " I warn you, men, that we can not live with these 
 yellow creatures. We are in a cage of reptiles and 
 the white man or the serpent must die. Am I going 
 to help you drive them out ? Shall we vote to ship 
 them back to China ? If they refuse to go, shall we 
 drive them down into the .sea? If the ballot fails, 
 let it be the bullet. Shall we throw down the gage 
 of battle to the lions of corruption ? Shall we make 
 the vow?" 
 
 Then the whole assembly arose and took the oath 
 of allegiance to the principle. 
 
 " Remember, men and women of San Francisco, 
 the law is our father and mother, but liberty is our 
 soul. Our oath, whatever happens, The Chinese must 
 go ! " 
 
 Stryne raised his right arm with the gesture of 
 a sword as he uttered the last word. It seemed that 
 his voice was the heart and voice of the multi- 
 tude. He expressed the innermost soul of the 
 audience. 
 
 Before the echo of the speaker's words had died, 
 the hundreds present took up the shout, "The 
 Chinese must go ! " It was on the street and the 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 ragged rabble everywhere was repeating it as a 
 battle-cry. 
 
 "The Chinese must go ! " took the place of bread 
 and butter. It was the panacea for all ills and evils. 
 
 The words had been thundered down to them by 
 a new Moses. Women threw their flowers, their last 
 dimes, at the hero. They wept and touched his coat 
 as if even that were holy. Stalwart men took the 
 prophet up on their shoulders and swept down the 
 street. His cape had been turned inside out and it 
 flared behind him like a flame. 
 
 The leaders ran up Kearny Street and back again. 
 As, proud of their abasement, they rushed down Mar- 
 ket Street, holding Stryne aloft, the crowd gath- 
 ered numbers. Everywhere there was but one cry, 
 "Whatever happens, the Chinese must go." Men 
 and women who had not heard the speech chanted 
 the refrain. 
 
 Upon returning from the ferry some one shouted, 
 "Nob Hill!" It was the impulse to send them 
 headlong up California Street with the firebrand on 
 their shoulders. 
 
 As the dwellers within the stately mansions looked 
 down upon the thoroughfare, they realized that it was 
 the beginning. What would the end be ? 
 
 16 
 
Chapter II 
 THE SAND-LOT 
 
 IAD the Comstock risen or fallen in value 
 fifty points San Francisco would not have 
 been more alive than it was to the Golden 
 Gate Temple meeting. 
 
 It was a comforting belief generally held that Stryne 
 was a bomb which had exploded in its fall through 
 the air. This was the view of the prosperous con- 
 servative classes. Only a few of these were suffi- 
 ciently interested to attend his lectures. 
 
 It was the business of the newspapers to jeer at 
 any serious influence that he could hope to exert. 
 One young reporter wrote of him, " Stryne 's passion- 
 ate zeal makes him exaggerate conditions, but he 
 believes the facts he gives." His journal refused to 
 publish this opinion and he resigned and went back 
 to college. There he wrote against modern journal- 
 ism. The young man afterward had the satisfaction 
 of seeing his paper make the same statement editori- 
 ally. 
 
 The new agitator's audiences grew until there was 
 
 no hall in the city large enough to contain them. 
 2 17 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Tickets were given out as for the theater. The city 
 was aflame with " The Chinese must go ! " 
 
 Within a month Stryne opened a Working Men's 
 Headquarters and employed several secretaries. He 
 had underestimated his own strength and the readi- 
 ness of the people for a leader. At this moment he 
 was little more than one of the followers of his own 
 principle, for the movement had become so great that 
 he was whirled along with it. In spite of all this he 
 accepted the changed situation with the royal com- 
 placency of heaven-born right descending from the 
 dawn of history. 
 
 In private, he was still the same impassive, nerve- 
 less man as on the first day of his appearance. 
 Around him assembled the anarchist despising all 
 law and government, the blatant union leader, the 
 gentleman semi-demented because evolution is in- 
 visible, and the helpless, hungry poor. Without him 
 they were harmless, floating wreckage. By him they 
 were congealed and they became a mass. Whether 
 they were to be powerful or impotent depended upon 
 Stryne. 
 
 At the Golden Gate Temple, Stryne frequently 
 was lost in his hyperbolic phrases. When his 
 audience was carried on by him until it fell at his 
 feet, he convinced men that he had the eloquence 
 
 of sincerity, but he was accused of resorting to the 
 
 18 
 
THE SAND-LOT 
 
 tricks of the demagog and the theater. Honesty is 
 doubted as often as hypocrisy is divined. 
 
 Certain it was that his words aroused all the latent 
 action and daring within his hearers. The most in- 
 different left his presence inspired to do and create. 
 
 At the Working Men's Headquarters he ever 
 united his followers by conciliating dissenting 
 parties. The vulgar, the curious, the interested, 
 could not weary his patience. Whatever replies he 
 might make to the press publicly, privately he was 
 cordial and kindly to the representatives of the 
 journals that abused him. 
 
 Presently his following grew to such magnitude 
 that he opened branches of the Working Men's Club 
 in many parts of the city. From all of them floated 
 the banner inscribed, " The Chinese must go ! " 
 
 Those expecting to see the movement decrease 
 were chagrined to learn that the agitator was obliged 
 to speak at two or three different halls in one eve- 
 ning. 
 
 The newspapers more than the public marked his 
 growing power and were vicious in their attacks. 
 At first he replied, but later he said nothing. 
 Finally The Herald, a morning journal, accused him 
 of dishonesty, declared that he was sending out of 
 the country the money that came into his possession. 
 
 When he entered Golden Gate Temple that eve- 
 '9 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 ning, it was the first time he had met his followers 
 since the article appeared. As he threw off his cape 
 he found by the uncontrolled applause that he was 
 but exalted by the assault. 
 
 Without preliminaries he strode straight to the 
 rostrum. His face was yellow like ivory. Those 
 close to him marked a band of scar on his brow 
 which was crimsoned by his emotion. It might be- 
 long to one who for many years had worn a crown. 
 
 " My friends, between you and me there can be 
 nothing but a frank understanding. Has The Herald 
 ever fought for honesty, manhood, or justice? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " When was The Herald the supporter of the work- 
 ing man? " 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 " If you want to know whose cause The Herald 
 champions, look at its subsidized columns. Every 
 enemy that you and I have is turning his gold into 
 the office of that paper. 
 
 " I want to hear your word. Am I your friend ? 
 Am I a thief ? Either that is true or The Herald 
 lies. Which is it ? Do you want a paper in your 
 house that stabs your friend ? Will you support the 
 organ of the Chinaman? " 
 
 Stryne's words were scarcely heard above the 
 shouts, " Stop The Herald ! " " Tear up The Herald ! " 
 
 20 
 
THE SAND-LOT 
 
 " Listen to me. How many friends have I here ? 
 How many want to read lies about me ? How many 
 present are to stop The Herald to-morrow ? It does 
 credit to your manhood that you all decline to aid 
 our foes." 
 
 Three thousand names were taken from the sub- 
 scription list of that journal the next day and added 
 to The Times. It was the first definite awakening 
 of the public to Stryne's power. Then came the 
 triumph of the young reporter who saw his paper 
 accept his own sentiment. 
 
 Henceforth there was a struggle between the two 
 leading dailies to see which could have the greater 
 portion of Stryne's favor and yet not offend sub- 
 scribers. If they dared not openly praise him, at 
 least all his speeches were fully reported and he was 
 not abused for some time. 
 
 Heretofore the classes attacked had confidently 
 expected the Chinese agitation to die. In .six weeks 
 after the advent of Stryne, however, the entire net- 
 like far-reaching detective force of the United States 
 was called into service to learn his antecedents. 
 
 Prominent but grammarless citizens who met him 
 felt that he was a reproof to them in dignity and 
 purity of English. They were certain that his man- 
 ner and speech belonged to a gentleman, an adven- 
 turer, rather than a laborer. They asserted that 
 
 21 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 within two weeks Stryne would be compelled to 
 leave town. 
 
 After long search the only trace of his history to 
 be found was that he had come to the United States 
 in a sailing-vessel from Italy. Already he had told 
 his audiences as much. Detectives could no more 
 bring to life his past than they could learn the route 
 of a ship by looking at the ocean. 
 
 Working Men's Clubs continued to spring up. 
 Laborers assumed the arrogance of that recent 
 period when the gold fever raged and blotted the 
 souls of men. From every hall and building of suffi- 
 cient size capitalists were warned by discourse and 
 flags that " The Chinese must go ! " Still the Mon- 
 golians remained and sent thousands of dollars a 
 week to the Orient. 
 
 Stryne appointed presidents of the clubs that he 
 created and these men acted as under officers in the 
 ranks. So thoroughly the great captain, he was 
 above jealousy of his lieutenants. He was so sure 
 of himself that he could demand the best of the best 
 men. With the celerity of intuition he singled out 
 the capable man and planted his hand on his shoulder 
 with the touch and weight of destiny. From his 
 corps of officers went out most of the men who have 
 since become marked representatives of socialism in 
 the United States. 
 
 22 
 
THE SAND-LOT 
 
 The Working Men's Clubs were for the general 
 improvement of laborers. Many of them had li- 
 braries and baths ; some added gymnasiums. With 
 alarm it was learned that these large rooms were 
 nothing more than armories. 
 
 Panic paled the lips of the population, for after 
 weeks of secrecy it became known that Stryne had 
 been training his followers in warfare. It was true 
 that the agitator had five thousand armed men at his 
 call. Rumor, gray and yellow with fear, doubled, 
 trebled the number. His cry, " If not with the ballot, 
 then with the bullet, " was recalled. 
 
 Bourgeois mediocrity sometimes looked at its 
 neighbors and wondered suspiciously if they, too, 
 might not be those murderous, lawless monsters, 
 Strynites. Dreaming young men and emotional 
 women believed not so much in his principles as in 
 him, and so the sober, well-balanced portion of the 
 community concluded that the time had positively 
 come for his annihilation. His wild theories would 
 then die disembodied. 
 
 Stryne soon realized that the " lions of corruption " 
 returned his challenge to battle. When he went to 
 Golden Gate Temple he found it closed. The Plaza 
 Hall was not to be had. In front of Kearny Street 
 Hall a mob of working men groaned at and hissed 
 
 the owners who refused to allow another meeting of 
 
 23 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Strynites. Money could not hire an assembly-room 
 in the city. All had been rented to the " bandits of 
 Nob Hill." 
 
 A large force of police was detailed to quell dis- 
 turbances. Wherever Stryne went his disciples fol- 
 lowed and the Kearny Street cars were obliged to 
 cease running. It was suggested that an entrance 
 to the hall be forced. No sooner were the words 
 uttered than the chief brandished his arms in the air 
 and shouted: "Back, men, you are only harming our 
 cause. We are locked out of the halls of the city 
 by our enemies. Could I have demonstrated to you 
 so clearly that we should stand together? Thank 
 God, they can not lock us out of the pure air of 
 heaven. They would rob us of that if it were possi- 
 ble. March! Let us assemble on the sand-lot." 
 
 Stryne placed himself at their head and prevented 
 them from storming up the street like enraged de- 
 mons. The leader saved the thousands from them- 
 selves by keeping them back with his arms stretched 
 to their full extent. This signal cooled their 
 thoughts. The fear of the men that they would do 
 Stryne bodily harm restrained them. 
 
 Slowly, sullenly, they went down Kearny Street 
 and up Market until they reached a vacant block of 
 sand near the site of the present City Hall. The 
 
 peninsula of San Francisco is a waste of sand on 
 
 24 
 
THE SAND-LOT 
 
 which parched shrubbery sparsely grows, but this 
 one square of sand was made historic by Stryne as 
 "The Sand-Lot." 
 
 There was no hall large enough to hold all his 
 hearers, and the sand-lot contained more than he 
 hoped to be able to assemble. 
 
 Directly the men reached the vacant lot they ob- 
 served there was no rostrum for Stryne. They might 
 have gone away without a speech but they were in 
 too angry a mood. Their leader, their voice, must 
 first thunder wrath and defiance to calm and cool 
 their leaping, burning pulses. 
 
 Within a quarter of an hour a platform was erected 
 for the speaker. In the dark he arose before the 
 growing multitude and spread out his hands to silence 
 the shouts of his admirers. 
 
 " We are not in Golden Gate Temple as we had 
 hoped, but we are in God's own temple. He has 
 not locked us out. He is not on the side of the 
 monopoly, the railroad builders, and the Chinamen. 
 Our new hall is larger, better ventilated, and we 
 have the cheapest system of lighting in the world. 
 I should like to look into your faces, but I see only 
 their dim outline, for the Man who lights our candles 
 in the sky is busy in another part of the universe." 
 
 This was no sooner said than behind Stryne blazed 
 up flames which illuminated the square, the sur- 
 
 2 5 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 rounding buildings, disclosed the great, gaping mouth 
 of the audience and its devouring eyes, and cast a 
 glow upon the sky. It was characteristic of the way 
 his followers anticipated his wishes. 
 
 The brush crackled, snapped, and clouds of fire 
 swept down over him enveloping him until his voice 
 seemed to come from the flame : 
 
 "MEN AND WOMEN: We ought to be grateful 
 that the scoundrels sanctified by their stolen gold 
 have taken our shelter from us. We ought on our 
 knees to thank God for every misfortune that ex- 
 pands our strength and unites us into a great brother- 
 hood. 
 
 "Those highwaymen covering themselves with 
 the law's protecting mantle are laughing in their 
 great houses because we are forced into the open air. 
 Laugh on, for this is but the beginning of the be- 
 ginning. The time will come when equality, justice, 
 and liberty shall ascend the place of power and give 
 you bandits new dwellings of stone, but these will 
 belong to the State. 
 
 " Friends, let me tell you what I propose doing. 
 This meeting shall be dismissed, but to-morrow 
 night at eight o'clock all who hate the tyranny of 
 consecrated thieves will march with me, and we will 
 talk face to face with them. To-morrow night we 
 
 will invade the robbers' den. We have been driven 
 
 26 
 
THE SAND-LOT 
 
 from our home. They shall learn how we talk, what 
 we believe, what we are. For the first time they 
 will see what men are like. To-morrow night let us 
 meet on Nob Hill." 
 
 Stryne's final sentence lifted them into the air and 
 held them shouting, howling their enthusiasm for 
 him to the skies. It was the first time that San 
 Francisco had seen her people untempered by re- 
 sponsibility or rank, inflamed by injustice, poverty, 
 hunger, and the great passion for the personality of 
 Stryne. 
 
 27 
 
Chapter III 
 
 NOB HILL 
 
 on the highest, most arrogant 
 hill of San Francisco are grim, gloomy 
 residences that frown at the town lying 
 below. Few of them appear to have been erected for 
 private habitation. One might fancy that there was 
 a contest among wealthy hypochondriacs to see who 
 could build for himself the largest prison. Some 
 day these houses will be used as museums. 
 
 At first in jest and then seriously this portion of 
 the town was known as Nob Hill. It was Nob Hill 
 which the laboring classes firmly believed caused 
 their poverty. Consequently it was against Nob 
 Hill that their hatred was directed. 
 
 The discontented despised the dwellers on the 
 height for their exclusive position. It seemed to 
 say to the lowly: "You must climb here on your 
 hands and knees, for you have no carriages." 
 
 The houses of Nob Hill, joyless as money-vaults 
 or tombs, were obnoxious because of their ostentation. 
 
 Millionaires who modestly inhabited other quarters 
 
 28 
 
NOB HILL 
 
 gave little offense. To dwell on Nob Hill was to be 
 set up as a target for socialism. 
 
 The succeeding day after Stryne's announcement 
 that the next meeting would be held on the forbidden 
 spot, few thought connectedly for any length of time. 
 The air was hot and quivering, giving warning of 
 an earthquake. It was deplored that the capitalists 
 had been so aggressive. 
 
 Phlegmatic, well-regulated people became excited. 
 The very young felt that at last history was about 
 to be made. No one did anything to prevent the 
 meeting. Everybody stopped after giving his opin- 
 ion. 
 
 The millionaires were terror-stricken. Beldon, 
 the railroad builder, urged his friends to flee with 
 him to Mexico. He felt that they all were to be 
 hanged. In Southern California he died from the 
 shock which the fright gave his enfeebled constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 Walsingham, Pickens, and Hackett, younger and 
 more vigorous, remained. They declared in their 
 offices and clubs that they refused to move a jot for 
 that fellow Stryne and his tramps. In reality their 
 houses were secretly converted into arsenals. Their 
 bravery was their confidence in a hundred guns 
 which were to be trained upon Strynites should they 
 
 attempt to destroy property or life. Six score special 
 
 29 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 policemen engaged for this occasion added to their 
 feeling of security. 
 
 Col. Knox Peyton, the mining magnate, was the 
 only resident of Nob Hill who declined to flee, pur- 
 chase guns, or ask assistance of the law. His 
 brownstone house was the sole dwelling on the hill 
 not an offense against beauty and taste. 
 
 Peyton was a Southerner past sixty, a widower 
 with one daughter, Theodosia. In spite of their 
 gentle breeding they sometimes smiled at the ex- 
 centricities of manner, speech, and conduct of their 
 neighbors. Instead of making their home a fortress, 
 the Peytons even refused to recall their dinner in- 
 vitations for the evening set for the meeting of the 
 Strynites. 
 
 It was in February and the atmosphere was so hot 
 and thick that those who could afford it drove to the 
 beach and cliff. The jackals of excitement and 
 disaster, altho equally indifferent to the cause of 
 Nob Hill or the Strynites, had a hurried, early din- 
 ner and then crept up the height to see what was go- 
 ing to happen. It was almost as exciting as watch- 
 ing the first night of the opera from the side- 
 walk. 
 
 All the houses except the Peytons' in this portion 
 of California Street were darkened. The occupants 
 huddled behind the curtains, viewing with alarm the 
 
 3 
 
NOB HILL 
 
 newcomers who were awaiting Stryne and his fol- 
 lowers. 
 
 The principals were late and the audience became 
 impatient. Some of the people departed disgusted 
 and sneering, " Of course he won't dare come." 
 
 " I knew that all the time. He won't make good." 
 
 Some one yelled, "He has sold out." Directly 
 there were a buzz and murmurs of " Blackmail ! " 
 "Job." "No good" "I told you so." 
 
 Through the breathless expectant air came a roar 
 like that of a brick building during an earthquake 
 when each separate stone stirs and the whole struc- 
 ture threatens to topple to the ground. Nearer and 
 louder came the sound until it was like the tramping 
 of feet. It was the march of men, and the brains 
 and eyes of those waiting flashed to one another the 
 needless news : the Strynites were coming. 
 
 Women crawled away from the windows, and, 
 shivering, looked at each other in silence. Children 
 screamed in the nurseries. Wives fell weeping into 
 their husbands' arms. The guards, carrying their 
 Winchester rifles, paced the halls and chambers of 
 the huge mansions. 
 
 At first there were but a few of the working men, 
 the stragglers of the advance. Then came the mass, 
 and to one looking down California Street it seemed 
 that an endless black serpent uncoiled its form straight 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 for the purpose of striking an enemy who had thrown 
 a rock on its head. 
 
 The body of men broke as they came up the hill. 
 Presently every yard and street was blackened by the 
 presence of the Strynites. They sat on the porches 
 of the great houses and smoked as if they had come 
 into their own. Some spat upon the veranda floors. 
 
 At last Stryne and his staff of assistants appeared 
 through an opening which was involuntarily made 
 for him. 
 
 It was a marked occurrence for these weaker men 
 and they were incompetent and nervous. Had their 
 leader fallen dead, they would have fled. Stryne, as 
 usual, was wrapped in his heavy blue cloak. All bent 
 in deference as he talked with them. Strangely 
 enough he was relating with animation his emotions 
 during a shipwreck. They pretended to listen but 
 their thoughts fell upon the events which were to 
 come. They felt they had been plunged into con- 
 ditions too momentous for them. 
 
 In the darkened street the Peyton house flared in- 
 solent defiance at Stryne and his followers. Strains 
 of music from the orchestra reached the ears of the 
 assembly. Stryne ceased talking, stopped, regarded 
 the outlook, then opened the heavy gate and went 
 inside. 
 
 When he stood before them on the property of the 
 3 2 
 
NOB HILL 
 
 only aristocrat among all the magnates of Nob Hill 
 as far as the eye could reach the people applauded. 
 They partook of his audacity and leaped, shouting : 
 " The Chinese must go ! " " If not by the ballot then 
 the bullet ! " As he entered the enemy's territory 
 their enthusiasm became unconfined. They felt that 
 their leader had elevated them. 
 
 These maddened cries sent the blood from the 
 cheeks and stopped the throbbing hearts of the men 
 and women in the black towering houses. From the 
 Peytons* home came the music of a waltz. 
 
 Stryne began to speak when McCarthy, a carpenter, 
 stepped from the crowd and said, "There ain't no 
 bonfire to night, Mr. Stryne. We haven't got no 
 wood. In the next block is some lumber that Pickens 
 is using for his new house. Shall we take it ? " 
 
 " We must have a fire, McCarthy, but we ought 
 not to steal from Pickens. He is honest, is he not? 
 He never stole lumber. Pickens took a railroad. " 
 
 " Shall we take the wood, Mr. Stryne ? " insisted 
 the carpenter. 
 
 " McCarthy, we must have a fire/' 
 
 These words were no sooner uttered than the men 
 fetched the lumber and the corner of the Peytons' 
 lawn, where Stryne took his station as speaker, was 
 soon aglare. There was not a break in the music 
 within. The women of the Walsinghams and Hack- 
 3 33 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 etts begged their kinsmen to be allowed to depart 
 before a general conflagration commenced. 
 
 " What is the use of our guards ? It does us no 
 good if a few beggars are murdered after we are all 
 roasted into crisps. Let us go anywhere and not 
 stay in these houses any longer," they wailed. 
 
 By way of beginning his speech Stryne exclaimed, 
 a smile of mockery rendering his countenance un- 
 pleasant : " Men and women : Last night we were 
 locked out. That is why we are here. I approve of 
 our meeting on this spot. It makes this highway- 
 man Peyton, who is dancing the dance of death in 
 his mansion, realize that the working men of San 
 Francisco are a living body with blood as red and 
 thick as his. Pickens and Walsingham skulking in 
 the darkness know we are here to tell them that they 
 must obey the laws of their country. It is not so 
 many years ago that they were working men like our- 
 selves. Let us prick their memory. I know no 
 better way than to show them ten thousand of us 
 who stand together and are ready to sacrifice our 
 bodies for justice if justice make that demand." 
 
 Stryne continued his speech for half an hour, threw 
 off his cape, and cast aside his coat. Gradually he 
 moved up the stone walk leading to the house, forced 
 back by the people who surged about him. At last 
 
 he was on the broad, granite steps and the mob broke 
 
 34 
 
NOB HILL 
 
 into cheers. The music played on. Only the Pey- 
 tons and Stryne seemed unconscious of the fact that 
 he had made a stage of the Peyton porch. Expect- 
 ancy had reached a terrible point. 
 
 The socialist's voice was especially adapted to 
 the oratory of open spaces, and he strung the 
 great irregular throng to whichever chord he 
 chose. 
 
 By way of closing his speech and making a fare- 
 well pleasantry he said, " My friends, I have withheld 
 from you one reason why I asked you all to assemble 
 here to-night. The working men have no club in 
 this ward. We shall organize one this evening. I 
 appoint as president Knox Peyton, president of the 
 Central Pacific ; vice-president, Thomas Walsingham, 
 owner of the El Dorado ; secretary, John Pickens, 
 who for twenty years has had a monopoly of the 
 brandy sold in the State. What shall we do for a 
 treasurer? Is there an honest man in this ward? 
 To be sure, there is McCarthy, the carpenter. For 
 treasurer, Michael McCarthy." 
 
 Rare badinage is almost as effective as wit. 
 Stryne was no exception among powerful men. Peo- 
 ple laughed immoderately at his jokes. This one 
 especially delighted them. 
 
 They were howling their loud approval when the 
 music within the Pey tons' house ceased. The heavy 
 
 35 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 door was swayed open by a butler and in the entrance 
 stood a woman about twenty-one. 
 
 The light fell full upon her and showed her hair, 
 gold, like that of childhood, rolling back from her 
 brow in a great wave, and falling in curls which 
 sheathed her bare, white shoulders. She stood with 
 her long train thrown over her right arm, quite 
 calmly looking at the fire, the thousands of strange 
 faces, and Stryne. Her tall, lithe, full, young form 
 was robed in a princesse gown of heavy white silk, 
 untrimmed but for bands of lace. The young wo- 
 man's chin was held high, and her red, fruitlike lips 
 curved into a smile. Her blue eyes were full like 
 her cheeks and her neck. 
 
 Often the mob had watched her in her carriage, or 
 on her horse, or walking with her father, Colonel Pey- 
 ton, a tall, white-haired, erect man, with a flowing 
 mustache and closely cropped side-whiskers. They 
 had never seen her so resplendent, and there was a 
 hush. She more than any other woman in the city 
 was the daughter of San Francisco, Theodosia Pey- 
 ton. As a child she had been known for her beauty 
 and gentle nature. Many had watched her as she rode 
 her first pony. Her traps were a common topic of 
 conversation. There were few tradesmen, dressma- 
 kers, or servants in the city who did not feel an affec- 
 tion for her, or had not been touched by the charm 
 
 36 
 
NOB HILL 
 
 of her cordiality. She never forgot a face and she 
 was known to all as Theodosia. The highly and 
 lowly placed read every line that the newspapers pub- 
 lished about her frocks, entertainments, accomplish- 
 ments, and rumored engagements. She often said 
 that she should be obliged to be married in the park, 
 or on the ocean beach, for no church could contain 
 all the people who would expect to be invited to her 
 wedding. 
 
 Stryne looked at her, waiting for her to speak. 
 Evidently she was not yet ready. The agitator 
 hastily covered his shoulders with his heavy cape, an 
 apology for being coatless. When he did this he 
 drew himself up like a military man. There was 
 something both in his manner and act which vexed 
 his followers. 
 
 For a moment he was far away from them, living 
 in another sphere, Theodosia Peyton's world. They 
 felt that he was. merely a gentleman pretending to be 
 a working man. Moreover, he had removed his coat 
 intentionally in the presence of their womenkind. It 
 was not a little galling that he should don it for the 
 daughter of their enemy, Colonel Peyton, who had 
 shares in all the big corporations of the Pacific coast. 
 
 Stryne dared not leave the porch, dared not beat a 
 retreat, vanquished by a handsome woman who merely 
 
 looked at him. The eyes of ten thousand people 
 
 37 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 were upon him as he bowed to Theodosia courteously 
 and with dignity. He had expected to be stoned or 
 shot, but this girl was an unlooked-for missile. He 
 understood why the music had been uninterrupted. 
 The house was garrisoned by the woman before him. 
 
 The socialist's interrupted vehemence had brought 
 the glow to his cheeks and eyes. His wiry, dark hair 
 was disordered. Stryne's face was aflame with the 
 passion of his eloquence. In spite of the irregularity 
 of his massive features, wrapped in his great cloak 
 at that moment he looked like a handsome young 
 army officer ardent with the fury of battle. 
 
 During the silence Stryne dropped his eyes rather 
 than stare at the strange woman. In so doing they 
 fell upon a small black patch on Theodosia's collar 
 bone, unnecessarily calling attention to the fairness 
 of her shoulders. Not twenty seconds passed thus, 
 but they dragged heavily to the agitator. The pulses 
 of his temples and wrists throbbed with thuds. If 
 he was to be held in that position much longer he 
 felt that even the most fervid Strynite would hoot 
 at him. 
 
 Finally Theodosia inclined her head graciously, a 
 trifle to one side, without bending her neck. Her 
 eyes were quizzical and triumphant. 
 
 Then she said, " I am speaking to Mr. Stryne, I 
 believe?" 
 
 38 
 
NOB HILL 
 
 Stryne saluted again with the deference which a 
 European social training gives. 
 
 " Mr. Stryne, I am Miss Peyton ; and I wish to 
 thank you for doing my father the honor to appoint 
 him the president of your club, altho he would pre- 
 fer to be treasurer." 
 
 The socialist reddened. 
 
 " Oh, your voice is very penetrating, Mr. Stryne. 
 We could hear quite distinctly. I am positive you 
 are mistaken. You really do not think Colonel Pey- 
 ton would embezzle the funds of the Working Men's 
 Club ? Since you made my father president of your 
 club you will surely come in to have coffee with one 
 of your officers. We are just finishing dinner. Bring 
 any of your friends you choose. I am sorry our 
 house is too small to ask them all, but you have so 
 many friends." 
 
 Stryne bowed again and answered : " You are most 
 kind, madam. I thank you, but I have a previous 
 engagement with those friends." 
 
 " Colonel Peyton will be so sorry. Another time, 
 perhaps. Any time, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 "Again, madam, you are most gracious, but I 
 have an engagement for life with my friends." 
 
 The girl smiled automatically, bowed to Stryne, 
 and was lost in the shadows of the great hall, as the 
 doors closed upon his first glimpse of her home. 
 
 39 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Her voice was so low and the words were so softly 
 spoken that none but Stryne had heard what she said. 
 Directly that Miss Peyton disappeared from view 
 there was a clamor of query, " Why did she come? " 
 " Did she order us away ? " they laughed. " What 
 did she say?" 
 
 " My friends, I was insulted by the offer of a 
 bribe." 
 
 Walsingham, Pickens, or Belden would have offered 
 him railway shares and he would have gladly refused 
 them. They were materialists of common fiber. 
 Peyton sent him youth, white shoulders, bare arms, 
 laughing eyes, red lips, and curls of gold, dimpled 
 hands, bearing a cup of coffee. It was the bribe of a 
 man who had used only his brain. It was the bribe 
 of an aristocrat. It was the bribe of a man who 
 understood men. 
 
 40 
 
Chapter IV 
 THE PRINCE 
 
 :EODOSIA PEYTON was welcomed in 
 the drawing-room like a heroine who had 
 saved a besieged city. Within fifteen 
 minutes the crowd dispersed, and the Beldens, Wal- 
 singhams, and Pickenses, looking at their guns and 
 police, felt slightly ashamed. There were a dozen 
 guests at Colonel Peyton's house and the women 
 embraced Theodosia hysterically. The old men 
 patted her cheeks. Her father pressed his lips to 
 her hair. 
 
 Lieutenant Armstrong, of the navy, told her she 
 was a splendid officer, and that he was glad to see 
 her come back from death smiling. 
 
 Percy Oglethorpe, a blond young Englishman, 
 gave her both his hands and said : " By Jove, Miss 
 Peyton, you make us men feel like curs and cowards. 
 Why didn't you tell us your plan of breaking up 
 the meeting ? We should all have been at your ser- 
 vice. The States are a great development after all. 
 The American women are wonderful regular Joans 
 
 of Arc. I'll write that home to England." 
 
 41 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Pardon, Signer Oglethorpe, but you would say, 
 would you not, that the American woman, Signorina 
 Peyton, is the Joan of Arc ? " slowly corrected Prince 
 Alessandro Ruspoli, an Italian nobleman, who was 
 making a tour of the world and staying in San Fran- 
 cisco for the time. 
 
 Then the Prince stepped toward Theodosia, and 
 looking steadily into her eyes from the depth of his 
 own gaze, took her hand and said, " My compliments, 
 Signorina. You are most unkind to take from me 
 the privilege of being your escort." 
 
 " Oh, if you had gone it would have spoiled all. I 
 knew I must be alone," she answered. 
 
 He bent over her hand until about to touch it with 
 his lips, and she turned quickly to leave him. The 
 Italian, with one step, was in front of her, and he 
 said softly in his own language, " Signorina, you will 
 not accept the courtesy which, in my own country, 
 I might bestow upon any lady of my acquaintance." 
 
 Ruspoli was much taller than Theodosia, erect but 
 slight in form. His shoulders were broad and his 
 frame was lean. The Prince's nose and chin were 
 clearly and well outlined. He was so dark that he 
 might have been a Turk, and his black eyes made one 
 think they had burnt until they were dead. His hair 
 was glossy, jetty, and brushed straight back from his 
 
 low brow. All the blood in his face was concentra- 
 
 42 
 
THE PRINCE 
 
 ted in his firm full lips, which had the appearance of 
 being tinted red. They parted as he awaited an 
 answer from Theodosia. 
 
 "I am American, Prince, and I decline Italian 
 courtesies," laughed Theodosia, endeavoring to pass 
 him. 
 
 Ruspoli's eyes were so serious that he almost 
 frowned. His arms were folded and he asked, 
 " Why, Signorina, did you refuse such a trifle ? " 
 
 Miss Peyton replied in Italian, "That is very 
 simple because you desired it." 
 
 " Why did I desire it, Signorina ? " insisted Rus- 
 poli, showing his white teeth and staring into her 
 blue eyes until her cheeks grew pink. 
 
 "Oh, I decline to be questioned, Prince," said 
 Theodosia, pouting her lips, shrugging her shoulders, 
 and tossing her curls. 
 
 The Italian barricaded the way, and said rapidly 
 in one breath, "I will tell you, Signorina." 
 
 "I don't hear, Prince; I refuse to hear. I am 
 deaf." 
 
 Theodosia endeavored to flee. 
 
 " You shall hear, Signorina ; I will tell you what 
 you know very well. You refused because I love 
 you, Signorina. For that reason I am treated as an 
 enemy." 
 
 Theodosia straightened herself up with grave dig- 
 43 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 nity, altho there was a smile in her eyes. Ruspoli 
 listened tragically and gloomily, his expression intent 
 and eager. 
 
 " Now, Prince, I see it. You are going to spoil 
 everything. I thought we were to be such good 
 friends. Don't be dull. I shall banish you to Italy 
 if you are." 
 
 At that instant Percy Oglethorpe joined Theo- 
 dosia and said : " Talk about smokeless powder, Miss 
 Peyton, it's all nonsense. I shall recommend you 
 to the War Department. A rebellion put down with 
 a smile. Ruspoli, you are thinking poetry. I see 
 it. Write a sonnet about Miss Peyton, who put 
 down a rebellion with a smile." 
 
 " The Prince write a poem, Mr. Oglethorpe ? Oh, 
 he doesn't live up to his eyes. He does nothing but 
 talk. He is a Strynite," laughed Theodosia. 
 
 Ruspoli endeavored to be civil, but he found it too 
 difficult when interrupted in a tender declaration by 
 a frivolous, jesting Englishman. He merely bit the 
 inside of his upper lip with his strong, white teeth. 
 
 The guests were assembled in a long, Oriental 
 drawing-room, and some of the ladies approached the 
 group. One was Adele Whiting, a tall, well-groomed 
 girl, somewhere in the twenties none but Adele 
 knew just where. 
 
 Like all fashionable women of the period, Miss 
 44 
 
THE PRINCE 
 
 Whiting wore her hair high on her head and in long 
 curls at the back, but her ringlets were false, stiff, 
 and dark, while Theodosia Peyton's were her own, 
 soft and thick. 
 
 Adele was a nondescript, eyebrowless young wo- 
 man, indefinite in color and outline. She was of 
 good stature and, while at a distance she gave the 
 impression of being handsome, as she approached her 
 charm vanished. Without marked imperfections she 
 was singularly devoid of any pretty feature. Miss 
 Whiting was impoverished, but of a good New York 
 family. She had sat through more dinners without 
 giving any herself than any person of her years in the 
 city. Wherever the sun was shining its brightest and 
 best Adele could be found. There was no better index 
 of one's social favor than the frequency or rarity of 
 her visits. 
 
 She knew every rock and shoal of society and she 
 was never caught in the quicksand. Adele called 
 herself Theodosia's chum. She held the same posi- 
 tion to several other prominent and wealthy women. 
 It meant that she was willing to be anything from a 
 messenger to a maid. In the kindest way she ac- 
 cepted invitations at the last moment when guests 
 had disappointed and there was a vacant place at 
 dinner that is, if you were worth while. Her 
 recompense was that she was considered popular. 
 
 45 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 In those days the chaperon was scarcely known in 
 America, and San Francisco thought her merely the 
 exquisite humor of the comic New York weeklies. 
 The San Francisco maiden, who at present is the 
 most chaperoned girl in the United States, during 
 the seventies went everywhere alone with the utmost 
 freedom. But Theodosia found Adele convenient 
 when she wanted to walk or drive with Ruspoli, or 
 any one of half a dozen other dangerous men she 
 knew. It was like being with a well-trained servant 
 alone and yet Ruspoli was held in check. In 
 reality Theodosia had no chum but her father. 
 When she was a small girl he led her by the hand, 
 but as she grew she led Colonel Peyton. 
 
 Adele joined the group and said : " Theo darling, 
 if it hadn't been for you I am sure we should all be 
 in ashes. I don't want to be cremated even after I 
 am dead. Weren't you dreadfully frightened ? Dear 
 me, I'm quite giddy at the thought of it. You are 
 such a brave girl I must kiss you again." 
 
 Sally Livingston was making two or three people 
 laugh by saying : " Ten thousand men frighten Theo- 
 dosia Peyton? Indeed no. She is perfectly happy. 
 It is the first time she ever had men enough looking 
 at her at once." 
 
 Sally was thin, gray-complexioned, wore her hair 
 
 drawn tightly from her forehead, and was inclined to 
 
 46 
 
THE PRINCE 
 
 protuberance of chin. She was liked for the curious 
 reason that she always told the truth if it was dis- 
 agreeable. Each of her friends fancied that she was 
 the one elected to escape Sally's tongue. 
 
 Jessie Traver protested : " Sally, I have a stand- 
 ing rule not to make nasty remarks until I get home. 
 I have heard you say the most horrid things while 
 dinner was going on Theo, dear, you are a darling. 
 I do admire your courage. But weren't you a bit 
 frightened?" 
 
 " Of course not, Jessie, I rather liked it." 
 
 " Liked it, Miss Peyton ? " said Oglethorpe. 
 
 " Liked it, Theodosia ? " exclaimed Colonel Peyton. 
 
 " Really ! " remarked Lieutenant Armstrong. 
 
 " Liked it, Theo? " Adele ejaculated. 
 
 " Yes, I think I should enjoy that sort of thing 
 myself." 
 
 " Theodosia, you are posing," said Sally Living- 
 ston. 
 
 " Miss Peyton, you are chaffing us," declared Ogle- 
 thorpe. 
 
 " May I ask, Signorina, what you mean by ' that 
 sort of thing? ' " requested the Prince. 
 
 "Why, I should like to be Stryne," answered 
 Theodosia. 
 
 "I understand, Signorina, that nearly everything 
 in America is a joke. This also is a pleasantry? " 
 
 47 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Of course not. I should like to be Stryne, to be 
 able to have thousands of men willing to die for me. " 
 
 " Thousands of men are willing to die for you, 
 Miss Peyton." 
 
 " I was sure you would say that, Percy Oglethorpe ; 
 I never knew you to fail to make the obvious conven- 
 tional compliment as I was saying, I should like to 
 be Mr. Stryne and do things." 
 
 "Is Mr. Stryne so very handsome, Theodosia?" 
 asked Sally Livingston. 
 
 " It's just what I wanted to know," remarked 
 Lieutenant Armstrong. 
 
 " Not a pretty or beautiful man, but strong and 
 handsome," said Miss Peyton slowly. Then, looking 
 quickly at the Italian, she added, " And I quite like 
 him." 
 
 When her eyes met those of her father they were 
 smiling. Colonel Peyton continued his conversation 
 with the older members of the group. Ruspoli 
 walked toward her and Basked : " Signorina, does the 
 gentleman's beautiful face or do the crimes he insti- 
 gates please you ? It is always interesting to learn 
 the tastes of ladies in strange lands." 
 
 "Do you know that Mr. Stryne causes crime, 
 Prince? " asked Miss Peyton coldly. 
 
 " I was speaking of his class," said Ruspoli, as the 
 
 conversation went on in his own language. 
 
 48 
 
( UNIVERGJTY 
 
 THE PRINCE 
 
 
 
 "And I was talking of Mr. Stryne." 
 
 " I feel that I know something of these men, Sig- 
 norina. I regret to say that my passionate, unreason- 
 ing Italy is the mother of most of them. My dear 
 cousin, the King, has just escaped death at the hands 
 of your hero's friends. A socialist can not be sepa- 
 rated from his class, and so I know Signor Stryne. " 
 
 " Mr. Stryne stands quite alone, Prince," answered 
 Theodosia, crossing her hands behind her and look- 
 ing up at him smiling. She was talking merely for 
 the sake of having the last word, and his harshness 
 surprised and amused her. Since he had told her a 
 few minutes before that he loved her, Theodosia was 
 seized with an impish desire to tease Ruspoli who 
 previously had been gentle unto indolence. 
 
 The Prince bowed and replied : " Signorina, we 
 heard Signor Stryne this evening saying, 'If not the 
 ballot, then the bullet.' Oh, I know his kind! 
 None of them hesitates about crime if he can ad- 
 vance his cause by it. Tell me, what must I do ? 
 Shall I, too, be a murderer to inspire your enthusi- 
 asm, Signorina ? If that is necessary, I have already 
 chosen the man to kill." 
 
 The Prince was sneering and his lips were trem- 
 bling. He was looking unpleasantly at Theodosia. 
 His anger had caused her to forget to dissect his 
 
 emotions. 
 
 4 49 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Theodosia asked : " So you would like to know the 
 sort of a man who appeals to my enthusiasm ? He 
 is not a parasite. He is not an idler. He is not a 
 barnacle. He is not a pretty man." 
 
 Ruspoli's countenance grew pale and his eyes 
 darkened. 
 
 "I've told you what he can not be. Now I shall 
 tell you what he is: charming, strong, able, intel- 
 lectual, and something of a hero/' 
 
 The Prince laughed aloud, " Dio mio ! Is Stryne 
 a hero?" 
 
 " Experience has taught me that you can not ex- 
 pect a parasite to appreciate a man. I as well as you, 
 Prince, belong to the lazy class. My kin are from 
 the South. We were idlers in England two centuries 
 ago, and we came to the colonies to make sure that 
 none of our descendants should be obliged to work. 
 An affair called the Civil War spoiled our plans. 
 Nevertheless by heredity I am just as lazy as you 
 are. Yet I can look at all views of the question. 
 There is more right than wrong on Stryne's side. 
 Chinamen will ruin laborers and spoil the race 
 eventually. They ought not to be here, for a nation 
 J3 no stronger than its poorest classes. We are all 
 bandits. He is working for the good of the poor 
 and is a hero. I believe everything he says. I'm 
 going to send him my ruby rings and tell him to give 
 
 50 
 
THE PRINCE 
 
 them to the poor. Think of it ! Ten thousand men 
 ready to fight and die for him, and three months ago 
 they never heard of him. Isn't that splendid? " 
 
 " No, dearest lady, it is merely popular insanity. 
 The public always recovers. Stryne himself will 
 cure them. They are, like you, carried away by 
 youth and enthusiasm." 
 
 " Youth, youth, Prince ! I am twenty-one." 
 
 " I said youth." 
 
 " I am older than you are ; for any woman is five 
 years older than a man of her age." 
 
 " Si, Signorina, but I am twenty- seven." 
 
 " Yes, but I am an American, and in the United 
 States we live and know more in a month than you 
 do in Italy in a lifetime, and so I am at least thirty, 
 fully three years older than you." Theodosia felt 
 victorious. 
 
 Ruspoli smiled. " Dearest lady, I can not permit 
 so many generalities. I grant everything you say 
 about yourself. You know more than I or any 
 European, or any one except, perhaps, Signer Stryne, 
 can hope to know. Yet I can not think all Ameri- 
 cans are as wise as you. You are just a trifle enthu- 
 siastic, just a trifle fantastic." 
 
 " O dear, no ! That shows you don't understand 
 me at all. How can the old civilization understand 
 the new ? My predominating qualities are logic and 
 
 5* 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 common sense. When I see a great man I recognize 
 him, and you close your eyes. I am going to know 
 Mr. Stryne. Perhaps he will refuse. He did refuse, 
 you know." 
 
 " And he did quite right I see, Signorina." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " When I saw you last summer at Santa Cruz I, 
 too, should have been indifferent, Signorina. Noth- 
 ing but imbecility made me follow you three days 
 that Consul Roma might present me. I met every 
 woman in Santa Cruz that I did not wish to know. 
 It seemed as tho I was always just missing you. Had 
 I forced you to want to know me, and then had I de- 
 clined, what would you have done ? " 
 
 " Why, Prince, you never would have had the op- 
 portunity to refuse. Only men like Mr. Stryne ever 
 do. So all that is a waste of imagination. Ah, I 
 think I will give a little dinner for him, and I'll ask 
 you " 
 
 " Signorina, out of respect to my cousin, the King 
 of Italy, I must decline." 
 
 " I shall ask you, Prince, and whom else ? Oh, 
 Adele Whiting." 
 
 "Signorina, I beg ten thousand pardons, but my 
 honor does not allow me to meet a man of that 
 sort." 
 
 " Prince, if you refuse again, I shall not allow you 
 
THE PRINCE 
 
 even to sit at my left. Oh, Percy Oglethorpe ! He 
 makes two." 
 
 " Dearest lady, great as is my respect, my admira- 
 tion, I can not see you so abase yourself as to meet 
 an outcast, an adventurer like this fellow. I can not 
 countenance it. I can not come." 
 
 " Now, Prince, you are to sit by Sally Livingston, 
 the ugliest girl I know. She is awfully amusing in 
 English, but she speaks neither French nor Italian. 
 That is your penalty. Lieutenant Armstrong will 
 make four." 
 
 " Colonel Peyton, I appeal to you as a wise parent. 
 Miss Peyton in her inexperience and enthusiasm 
 talks of giving a dinner in honor of this Stryne, this 
 socialist. Can you not argue with her?" asked 
 Ruspoli in slow, studied English. 
 
 " Prince, agree with Theodosia. Encourage her. 
 This is only an impulse. To-morrow she will have 
 forgotten it. Women and lunatics are managed in 
 the same way. Theodosia can persuade me to near- 
 ly anything. It is a luxury I allow myself, yield- 
 ing to her. There never was a dearer, kinder, 
 gentler, sweeter woman than Theodosia. I like all 
 these quixotic impulses of hers. They show what 
 a lovable nature she has if only you understand her, 
 but I never think of endeavoring to dissuade or per- 
 suade the girl." 
 
 53 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Signorina, carissirna Signorina y when you tell 
 me that you will know this canaille " 
 
 " My dear Prince, but you must stop abuse." 
 
 "This Signor Stryne, then, pardon. You hurt 
 me. You madden me. My vision is black. Must 
 I become an Egalite* and vote for the death of my 
 cousin? Because of thee, I must salute this man. 
 Buona sera, Signorina, beautiful Signorina." 
 
 The Prince bent over Theodosia's hand until his 
 breath warmed its flesh. Then he slowly raised his 
 head and looked at her as tho dazed. 
 
 " What must I accomplish ? Is it necessary for 
 me, as you say, to * do things' ? Must I, too, kill 
 some one ? " 
 
 " You have already said ' good-night/ Prince Rus- 
 poli," said Theodosia as she left him to talk with 
 her other guests. 
 
 54 
 
Chapter V 
 THE ARREST OF STRYNE 
 
 every one but the leader himself the Nob 
 Hill meeting was the greatest success of 
 his agitation in San Francisco. His fol- 
 lowers, his admirers, and his enemies applauded his 
 daring and audacity. 
 
 As Stryne left the steps of the Peyton residence 
 that night, he despairingly ordered a lieutenant to 
 extinguish the bonfire. He was Achilles, whose heel 
 had been discovered. All others believed he was rid- 
 ing on the flood- tide of fortune, but he felt that the 
 ebb was carrying him back to obscurity. 
 
 He doubted himself and that very act alarmed him. 
 What seemed success to others was defeat to him. 
 As his admirers, shouting, followed him even to the 
 steps of the cottage south of Market Street where he 
 lived, he thought, " Good God, to be a failure like a 
 common man, like one of those I lead ! " He could 
 not grasp all at once that this destiny was marked 
 out for him. 
 
 Yet, like most men who succeed quickly, he was 
 superstitious and a fatalist. To Stryne, who had 
 
 55 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 ever gloried in his belief in himself, his career, to 
 waver was to fail. Doubt he fought off as a monster 
 devouring him. 
 
 No outward change took place in his conduct. It 
 became a fad among the very young, the irresponsi- 
 ble, to attend his sand-lot meetings. His numbers 
 certainly increased each day, and yet, as he walked 
 the streets, as he spoke, he felt that Doubt was lurk- 
 ing in the corners, laughing at him. 
 
 She seemed to say : " Go on, build up your house 
 of fame. When I am ready I will cast it down with 
 a look." 
 
 Sometimes he fancied that Doubt was playing 
 hide-and-seek with him and she was always a smiling, 
 fair, golden -haired girl who bore Theodosia Peyton's 
 face. 
 
 McCann suggested to Stryne that he hold another 
 meeting on Nob Hill since the first was so successful. 
 For answer he looked at the union president several 
 seconds, fearing to find a sneer underneath his words. 
 McCann was evidently sincere in his request, and 
 yet before the socialist's eyes was the sprite Doubt, 
 mocking him. 
 
 Stryne could no more compel his men to march up 
 California Street again than he could escape that 
 terrible unbelief in himself. 
 
 "No," said he to McCann, "we'll stick by the 
 56 
 
THE ARREST OF STRYNE 
 
 sand-lot." So every evening at eight and each Sun- 
 day afternoon at two the square was black with men 
 and women listening to the agitator. 
 
 Sundays people of all ranks congregated there, and 
 many families included the sand-lot in their weekly 
 drive. Stryne's voice could not reach the thousands, 
 and his lieutenants caught up his words at a distance 
 and sent them on through the air to those who could 
 not hear the leader. 
 
 As the capitalists looked at the great congested 
 populace they knew that something was wrong. 
 Four months before, they argued, the people were as 
 contented as the poor and stupid ever will be, but 
 now they were shrieking out their wrongs in the 
 street. Clearly they, the property owners, had not 
 changed. The laboring classes were the same as 
 ever. It was Stryne who altered the scene. He 
 was the evil of whom they must be rid. How? 
 
 So long as the socialist was allowed to speak every 
 day on the sand-lot, their advisers said this move- 
 ment would grow. The meetings must be stopped. 
 
 The Legislature was in session. Lobbyists were 
 sent to Sacramento and a bill was passed in both 
 houses and immediately signed by the Governor, 
 which forbade more than three people to hold con- 
 verse on the street without a permit. Those who 
 disobeyed the new law were called conspirators, and 
 
 57 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 as such were liable to punishment by imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 Every one knew that it was a measure passed solely 
 to prevent Stryne's speeches. His men groaned 
 and howled on the sand-lot when they heard that 
 the Governor had signed the bill. 
 
 The speaker shouted to them : " Men and women : 
 The bandits of Nob Hill can pass laws. We know 
 that the Legislature is composed of vermin who live 
 upon the dogs of capitalists. It is one thing to 
 make a law and it is another to enforce it." 
 
 The following day there were rumors of every de- 
 scription circulating in the city. One had it that 
 Stryne had shot himself rather than surrender to the 
 officers. Another declared that he had left San Fran- 
 cisco. Some people insisted that small boys had 
 found his body near the beach. The only thing of 
 which any one was positive was that warrants had 
 been issued for the arrest of Stryne on the charge of 
 conspiracy and incendiary language. It was also cer- 
 tain that he had left his house south of Market Street. 
 
 Somewhat earlier than usual that evening great 
 numbers of Strynites assembled in the Plaza, at that 
 time the center of the town. Undoubtedly many of 
 them were armed, but the police avoided arrests for 
 they were awaiting the leader. The square was 
 
 filled and swollen with people, while the opulent of 
 
 58 
 
THE ARREST OF STRYNE 
 
 San Francisco were indignant that the mob should 
 be allowed to congregate. 
 
 From a distance they viewed the populace and 
 asked : " What is the use of law or officers when they 
 allow a mob to ride over them like that ? We might 
 as well have no Legislature. Capitalists will never 
 invest in a State where property is imperiled by 
 rioters." 
 
 The Strynites felt that they had the upper hand 
 and became arrogant because the officers of the law 
 arrested none of them. Residents of Nob Hill and 
 the prosperous of San Francisco were certain that 
 Stryne would not appear. 
 
 " Oh, he's run away like a cur." " You never saw 
 a one of those socialists who was really game and 
 would fight," were remarks frequently heard from 
 the on-lookers. 
 
 Whatever unbelief Stryne felt within himself, his 
 disciples had complete faith and prepared a rostrum 
 for him. Two horse- cars were stopped and made 
 ready for his appearance. The crowd howled for 
 him, but- his followers were silent. None knew 
 where their leader might be found, but they were 
 annoyed by the hoots of unsympathetic strangers. 
 It was past eight o'clock. 
 
 There were few people on Clay Street between 
 Montgomery and Kearny streets when a small ragged 
 
 59 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 boy saw Stryne's broad shoulders moving with delib- 
 eration toward the assembly. The voice squeaked, 
 " There comes Stryne ! " 
 
 The pulse of the audience gave a quick throb, and 
 every man, woman, and child screamed with delight. 
 Never had there been such tenderness, adoration, 
 and triumph in their cheers. Their throaty, raucous 
 cries growled exultation at the doubters. 
 
 Stryne was wearing his heavy blue cloak as usual. 
 It seemed that he had not varied an inch from his 
 routine costume. Armed men ten deep, hugging 
 and embracing him, closed in around him and escorted 
 him to where he was to speak. The officers stood 
 aside until he mounted the street -car. 
 
 When he showed himself in full view of the people 
 and heard their rapturous cries, he trembled and 
 tears came into his eyes. It was impossible for him 
 to speak. Vainly he spread out his arms to silence 
 his friends. It was but the beginning of more cheers 
 and shouts. 
 
 These people had so stretched themselves up to 
 the point of hysteria that tears or laughter came at a 
 word. The moment had arrived in the passion they 
 felt for Stryne that sacrifice of self for the agitator 
 was the thing to be prayed for. Their hearts 
 united and begged as the supremest joy that he 
 
 demand their bodies and souls. There was not 
 
 60 
 
THE ARREST OF STRYNE 
 
 a doubter present to say he was unmoved by the 
 spectacle. 
 
 Yet Stryne realized that it was inartistic to weep 
 at a scene which he had planned for twenty-four 
 hours. It was for this very situation that he re- 
 mained in hiding during the day. If he must go to 
 prison, he would not be dragged to a cell like a 
 wrong-doer, but he determined to stand in the brill- 
 iant glare of his glory and defy the officers, the law, 
 and the State to magnify it by tearing him away from 
 it. If he was to go, every being who had followed 
 him, drunk in his words, and felt the frenzy of his 
 invective during these months, must see the blood of 
 his wounds and listen to the defiance of his soul. 
 
 There was a pause in the applause. During the 
 silence the thought uppermost in the minds of all 
 was, would the officers dare carry out the orders of 
 their chief? There was none present but felt that 
 event meant the beginning of a long reign of blood- 
 shed. They believed that it was a spark to set 
 ablaze the homes of the wealthy. This silence of 
 Stryne's was intentional and a test of the courage of 
 the other side. No officer of the police moved, and 
 the Strynites exulted. They embraced each other, 
 danced, and yelled : " The Chinese must go ! What- 
 ever happens, the Chinese must go ! If not by the 
 
 ballot, then by the bullet. Ah-h-h! " 
 
 61 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Clearly the police had faltered, but a thick-necked, 
 broad-shouldered captain, from whose eyes fearless- 
 ness calmly gazed, stepped forward, surrounded by a 
 crowd of men. The captain and Stryne stared at 
 one another. The agitator and the officer realized 
 that each had met his equal. 
 
 Every man present regarded Stryne, expecting 
 some violent act. On the contrary, he was impas- 
 sive. The captain of the police neared him and the 
 socialist merely waited. They expected his hand to 
 move and that he would make an effort to defend 
 himself. 
 
 Strynites could not realize that this man, in whom 
 they had seen the lion's passion rage, could like an- 
 other submit to be taken to prison. It was as impos- 
 sible as that a divinity should be subjected to earthly 
 laws. His disciples would not have been surprised 
 had Stryne's apotheosis taken place at that moment. 
 
 He waited tranquilly for the officer to clamber 
 up the side of the street-car and make himself 
 slightly ridiculous in doing so. The captain said, 
 giving him his full name to add a touch to the 
 dramatic scene, " Paul Stryne, I have a warrant for 
 your arrest. " 
 
 It was not until Stryne bowed and prepaVed to 
 yield that the people became aware of nis intention. 
 
 Then the rage of his admirers burst forth in hoots, 
 
 62 
 
THE ARREST OF STRYNE 
 
 menaces, cries of agony, and hurling of rocks. In an 
 instant a dozen burly, strong laborers were on the car 
 with unsightly knives flashing and threatening the 
 officers. Stryne's hands were bound. 
 
 The situation had arrived which the thoughtful 
 feared. It needed but a word from the leader and 
 rioting must begin. Instead, he called out in grave, 
 deep tones, which he knew so well would vibrate the 
 chords of their souls. 
 
 " What, men, do I see my friends, working men, 
 attack an officer of the law ? We, the working men 
 of San Francisco, are to be the rulers of the city. 
 It is our mission to make laws, not to break them." 
 
 Slowly the Strynites released their hold upon the 
 captain of police. Knives were reluctantly placed 
 in their belts and revolvers were sullenly returned to 
 their pockets. 
 
 "I have appeared before you, men and women, 
 once more, because I wanted to look into your faces 
 again before truth imprisons me. You must listen 
 because I am going to say what the calm wisdom of 
 your manhood has already told you. 
 
 " Commit no violence, injure no life, destroy no 
 property. Give none of our enemies an excuse for 
 saying that we deserve imprisonment. How many 
 are going to make this promise which concerns you 
 each man, wfrmaji, and child of you ? Ah, I am glad 
 
 63 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 that the working men of San Francisco always have 
 their wits about them. 
 
 " Then I charge you not to lose heart. The city 
 can not build walls so thick that my voice will not 
 pierce them. You can not imprison justice. You 
 can not lock up honesty. The Constitution forbids 
 it. Keep that in mind and be patient. While I in- 
 habit my cell in- that big stone building because I 
 wept for the hungry, because I lifted up my voice 
 for the weak, because I fought for right down-trod- 
 den, remember every minute of my time is to be 
 passed in work for you. 
 
 " Our success is as certain as my persecution. 
 Imprisonment of the body is nothing ; I have slept 
 on stone before. In my cell I shall not envy the 
 men on Nob Hill who are sending me there the pos- 
 session of their downy beds. I have a clear con- 
 science. If my incarceration can help you I thank 
 God for it. 
 
 " As for gratitude to you for your honesty, your 
 manhood, your loyalty to yourselves and to me, 
 friends, how can I speak of it ? Some ties are too 
 sacred for the profanation of words. You know 
 what I am to you and God sees what you are to 
 me. 
 
 " Again before we separate, our oath : ' Whatever 
 
 happens, the Chinese must go ! ' 
 
 64 
 
THE ARREST OF STRYNE 
 
 Ten thousand hands were raised and the vow 
 spread upward to the sky. 
 
 Then Stryne closed his cape, donned his hat and 
 said, "Now, Mr. Officer, I am your prisoner." 
 
 As the leader passed through the crowd, the men 
 touched his cloak, pressed his hand, the tears 
 streamed down their cheeks. Some of the more im- 
 petuous stood with their hands on their hip pockets. 
 Stryne shook his head and patted their backs. Boys 
 embraced him and went to hide in their sobbing 
 mothers' arms. It was like the funeral of a great 
 man. They followed him up the street, and as the 
 prison door closed upon him, a wail of anguish re- 
 verberated in the serene, silent night of the city. 
 
Chapter VI 
 THEODOSIA'S SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 [ROM the beginning of their residence in 
 San Francisco, Colonel and Mrs. Peyton 
 occupied a distinctive position. Knox 
 Peyton was educated at the University of Virginia. 
 Later he became a lawyer and brought his young 
 wife to California. 
 
 Mrs. Peyton was a handsome, vivacious, imperi- 
 ous woman to whose sway society readily submitted 
 because she was Theodosia Custis of Virginia, edu- 
 cated in Paris, married to a Peyton, possessed of a 
 goodly fortune, and would have moved to the South 
 Sea Islands or another unlikely spot rather than ab- 
 dicate a jot of her right to reign in any place where 
 she might reside. 
 
 Mrs. Peyton instructed early San Francisco society 
 in the gentler arts of civilization. Society accepted 
 her as a tutor because it was certain that she was 
 " somebody at home." There was some doubt about 
 many of the others. Several Southern women had 
 achieved certain renown from tales of their fortunes 
 
 lost during the war, but Mrs. Peyton placidly hurled 
 
 66 
 
THEODOSIA'S SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 them from their pedestal by declaring that " Un- 
 doubtedly they were most respectable people, but she 
 had never heard of them." 
 
 Many a heart stopped beating from fear lest Mrs. 
 Peyton had never heard of them. Not to be heard 
 of by Mrs. Peyton meant social decline. To be 
 called " a nobody and an upstart " by Mrs. Peyton 
 meant ostracism. 
 
 Knox Peyton became an attorney for corporations. 
 Soon he acquired large mining interests. His for- 
 tune grew and with it Mrs. Peyton's arrogance. She 
 would not have admitted it, for it was a pose of hers 
 to deplore her husband's wealth. 
 
 However, Mrs. Peyton was sufficiently sincere in 
 her remorse for his sins against her code of a gentle- 
 man to aid him in sending vast sums back into gen- 
 eral circulation. The Peyton dinners, balls, recep- 
 tions, and theater parties are still discussed in 
 San Francisco. They illustrated Mrs. Peyton's 
 theory that, while a gentleman might possibly by 
 accident earn money, it was beneath him to keep 
 it. 
 
 Mrs. Peyton had the most philanthropic motive 
 in entertaining, for she felt it her duty as a conscien- 
 tious member of Grace Church to give San Francisco 
 society some idea of how things should be done. It 
 
 pleased her to observe that society endeavored to 
 
 6? 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 imitate her and make itself supportable to her deli- 
 cate nerves. 
 
 The Peytons traveled extensively. The Peytons 
 spoke modern languages. The Peytons had the first 
 liveried servants in San Francisco. The Peytons 
 had the first private carriages in San Francisco. 
 The Peytons brought from abroad the newest models 
 of modes. The Peytons were on the visiting-list of 
 more or less important nobility of several countries 
 in Europe, 
 
 Her aunt, Mrs. Peyton never forgot to remind Mr. 
 Peyton, Theodosia, and society, was the Lady Somer- 
 set of England. 
 
 Theodosia grew to be the prettiest girl in San 
 Francisco, at least in society. She had all her 
 father's good nature, gaiety, charm of manner, and 
 none of her mother's arrogance. Just when Mrs. 
 Peyton was thinking of taking Theodosia abroad to 
 be presented at European courts by Lady Somerset, 
 she died, and the girl made her debut in San Fran- 
 cisco. 
 
 Straightway she became the head of her father's 
 brownstone house on California Street, and routed 
 all the widows and elderly maidens who designed to 
 take him from her. Colonel Peyton was not an old 
 man and the blood of the South was in his veins, 
 He could not see loveliness without desiring it. 
 
 68 
 
THEODOSIA S SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 Theodosia called herself his chaperon and prevented 
 any undesirable entanglements. 
 
 When she was nineteen people commented upon 
 the maturity of her manner. Her explanation was, 
 " A girl does grow old bringing up a father, as I 
 have done for years." 
 
 By the time Theodosia became a woman, the Pey- 
 tons had entertained every American or foreigner of 
 distinction who had visited the city. Travelers went 
 to their house instead of hotels, and some of them 
 were penurious enough to count in advance upon 
 no hotel bill while in the city. Consequently San 
 Franciscans in any part of the globe were first asked, 
 " Do you know the Peytons ? " One Englishman 
 said, " California. Oh, yes. That is where the 
 Peytons live." 
 
 After Mrs. Peyton's death, Theodosia did not de- 
 mand but accepted as a heritage her mother's posi- 
 tion. Without endeavoring to protest, every one 
 yielded to her rule. Women much older than she 
 paid her deference exacted by her mother. Theo- 
 dosia found life a very agreeable existence, and 
 wondered why people could weep or be angry, ex- 
 cept, of course, girls whose fathers suggest step- 
 mothers. 
 
 At nineteen Theodosia sang with a high, pure 
 soprano voice, played the piano brilliantly, read 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 superficially most books worth while, and spoke 
 several languages. 
 
 She had run the gamut of flirtation and was re- 
 puted to be able to "drive a six- in-hand almost as 
 well as six horses in the mountains." This meant 
 that she could conduct some stage of a flirtation with 
 half a dozen men at a time. In fact, she preferred 
 that number, for she realized the perils of one. It 
 might be the mildest form of friendship, but eventu- 
 ally the man was certain to look things, and then to 
 say them. Sentiment always resulted and pleasure 
 was spoiled. Two men were almost as bad. She 
 found four quite as difficult to manage as six, and 
 considerably less exciting. Six was a game worth 
 playing. 
 
 Theodosia had finished her knowledge of the 
 French language by a flirtation with a lieutenant of 
 the French navy whose ship was in port. His 
 fiancee was in Paris and Theodosia really intended 
 nothing but friendship and a serious study of French 
 literature. So long as there was a fiance'e in Paris 
 Theodosia was not alarmed. How could there be 
 anything but friendship when a man has just left a 
 woman he is to marry? Then French literature is 
 certainly the opposition to flirtation. 
 
 She had done all within her power to prevent the 
 
 result, and so one should not blame her that she was 
 
 70 
 
THEODOSIA'S SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 astonished, quite amazed when the Frenchman told 
 her that he hated literature, that he only pretended 
 to like it to be near her, that he loved her and in- 
 tended to abandon his fiancee. Theodosia was afraid 
 she could find no honest men. 
 
 On another occasion, when she had the most 
 laudable desire to study the history of the Catholic 
 Church, she also met with disheartening results. 
 She always possessed an interest in the wonderful 
 institution, but the common, serf-like countenances 
 of the Irish peasant priests offended her artistic 
 sense which demanded beauty for her eyes. Besides 
 she felt it would be a reflection upon her intelligence 
 to attend church with servants. 
 
 So when a handsome, dark-eyed, pale-faced Span- 
 ish priest came to San Francisco, she concluded that 
 it would be interesting to learn from him the history 
 of his church. Certainly there could be no better 
 opportunity for improving her Spanish accent. The 
 padre rejoiced greatly over his prospect of prosely- 
 ting so influential a young woman as Theodosia 
 Peyton. 
 
 After several weeks of calls at his study, and 
 bending over big mysterious books together and 
 many personal conversations, Theodosia gave him 
 this decision : 
 
 " I will become a Catholic, Father, if you will not 
 
THE SOC1ELIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 ask me to believe all your rubbish ; if I am never 
 expected to go to church with those horrid, stupid, 
 ordinary domestics ; if I may always hear you preach, 
 and if I may always confess to you, and then as 
 little as I please." 
 
 Theodosia was quite right in believing that a 
 priest should have no sex. Undoubtedly she should 
 have had the privilege of a frank avowal. It was 
 the duty of \hepadre to view it impersonally. 
 
 Yet that night she awoke to find a basket of crim- 
 son roses passed through a window into her room. 
 A moan came from the ground below. The young 
 priest was lying prostrate, for the ladder on which 
 he mounted had fallen in his descent. 
 
 Colonel Peyton was given Theodosia's entire con- 
 fidence. " I assure you, papa, it was not my fault. 
 I was so particular that it couldn't be my fault. 
 Why, I was almost serious and solemn. So was the 
 padre. I was determined that if anything came of 
 it of course, I realized there might be some little 
 danger, men are so silly, you know he could never 
 say I was to blame. Now, tell me, papa, it was not 
 my fault, was it ? Say you believe in me or I shall 
 not sleep." 
 
 Colonel Peyton shook his head. "Theodosia, it 
 was your fault, but you can not help it. This was 
 
 merely a new sort of a flirtation religious." 
 
 72 
 
THEODOSIAS SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 The padre was conveyed to his home, and Colonel 
 Peyton called upon the Archbishop. In another 
 church there might have been gossip, but in the well- 
 regulated Catholic institution the young man was 
 merely sent into the interior of Alaska for discipline. 
 In his sagacious middle age he was made a bishop. 
 
 Soon afterward, while Theodosia was in New 
 York, she admitted that she was conducting a flirta- 
 tion with the German consul-general. The others 
 she had called literature and religion, but her 
 honesty forced her to designate this by its own 
 name. 
 
 The girl explained to her father when Colonel 
 Peyton objected : " Don't moralize, papa, I am going 
 to San Francisco in three weeks. Then it will be 
 all over. You know it is dreadful enough to live 
 there, so don't deprive me of amusement." 
 
 "Theodosia," replied Colonel Peyton, "when have 
 I opposed your amusement? But I object to this 
 wasting of your time and character. What sort of a 
 wife are you going to be ? You will never be able 
 to fix upon one man. You are not serious with Von 
 Sternberg. Flirtation is as unwholesome for the 
 heart as stimulants are for the body." 
 
 " Papa, I don't want a homily on flirtation, because 
 you are such a dear, good man that you are not capa- 
 ble of giving it. Now I could instruct you. Tell 
 
 73 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 me, dear old boy, don't you really think that we 
 women who are exiled three thousand miles from 
 anything that is worth living for, and six thousand 
 miles from all that is worth living for, ought to have 
 a little recreation? You yourself admit that my 
 German is greatly improved." 
 
 Colonel Peyton looked at his daughter and asked : 
 "Theodosia, is it possible that you have studied 
 these various languages to have a novelty in love- 
 making, new methods, as it were ? " 
 
 Theodosia 's voice gurgled into laughter, and put- 
 ting her arms about her parent's neck, she said : 
 " What a wise old boy it is. How did you ever find 
 that out ? " 
 
 The Peytons returned to their home. Within a 
 short time the German consul-general exchanged his 
 better post in New York for that in San Francisco. 
 When the colonel read it he came with his news- 
 paper in trembling hand, to give the information to 
 Theodosia. 
 
 " My daughter," began he and Theodosia realized 
 from this preface that her father was about to make 
 her uncomfortable " read that. Von Sternberg is to 
 come to San Francisco. You recollect, my dear, 
 what I told you in New York " 
 
 "I recall every one of your words of wisdom, 
 
 dearest, but what do they matter now? I am going 
 
 74 
 
THEODOSIA' S SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 to be serious. I am going to be married. My fiance" 
 is Jack Faversham." 
 
 " A remittance man, Theodosia. " 
 
 " John Cecil Percy Faversham, of Faversham Hall, 
 Suffolk, England, papa." 
 
 " You don't know him, my child. " 
 
 "That's the charm of Jack, papa. I don't know 
 him. I hope I never shall. I'm so tired of people 
 I know. I can tell you the number of teeth of every 
 one in San Francisco, which tenth cousin went to 
 the bad, what their incomes are, whose mother 
 worked in a grocery, whose grandmother was a bar- 
 maid. The place is so small that every one is dis- 
 sected until he is as uninteresting as a relative. I 
 like the charm, the mystery of not knowing people. 
 When I meet a new person I feel like a Miss Colum- 
 bus setting out for the Indies." 
 
 "Well enough for conversation in a novel, but 
 not practical, my dear. Men understand each other 
 better than women can know them. I mention this 
 merely to protect you, Theodosia but Faversham is 
 a drunkard." 
 
 " That will give me a mission, papa, dear. I shall 
 reform him." 
 
 " Theodosia, do be serious. Listen, do you love 
 Faversham? " 
 
 "As much as Von Steinberg, or any of my six-in- 
 
 75 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 hand. It is not that I care so much for him, but he 
 loves me and I have accepted him. " 
 
 "Then why, my dear Theodosia, marry him? " 
 
 " I tell you papa, in order to be serious, I must 
 have some sort of a purpose. I may seem trivial in 
 conversation, but I am really quite in earnest." 
 
 There was to have been a great wedding at Grace 
 Church, a large reception at the Peyton house, and 
 the most beautiful bride of the season. The mar- 
 riageable women of San Francisco rejoiced for two 
 reasons. The first was that their rival who had so 
 often lightly upset all of their own affairs of the 
 heart was at last to be hors de combat, and the match 
 she was making was not enviable. The second was 
 that, with Theodosia out of the way, Colonel Peyton 
 was almost certain to marry again. 
 
 From the time of the betrothal until the prepara- 
 tions for the wedding were almost complete, Jack 
 Faversham was intoxicated. Despite the daily pro- 
 tests in the word and glance of Colonel Peyton, 
 Theodosia followed her determination. 
 
 Finally, two weeks before the wedding, in the 
 midst of all the prematrimonial festivities in her 
 honor, she sought her father and quite gravely an- 
 nounced : " It is the old story repeated, I go so far 
 and then I balk. I have had a revulsion of feeling. 
 
 I can not carry out this marriage, and I don't think 
 
 76 
 
THEODOSIA'S SIX-IN-HAND 
 
 I shall ever care enough for any man to abandon my 
 liberty for him. One thing is certain, however, I 
 can not be the wife of a perpetual drunkard. 
 Jack's carousals are getting to be a continuous per- 
 formance. He would never be sober long enough 
 to hear even my first temperance lecture. " 
 
 Colonel Peyton was too happy over her sudden 
 and unexpected resolution, and too pleased to keep 
 his daughter with him to reproach her for the un- 
 pleasant chatter that would result from her jilting 
 Faversham so near the altar. So he merely said to 
 his daughter : 
 
 " It is better for you to say ' No ' during the cere- 
 mony even, than contract an unhappy marriage, 
 Theodosia. I am sure you will be a good wife for 
 the right man, but if you are only half-possessed, I 
 should be extremely alarmed. " 
 
 Theodosia's father offered to make the announce- 
 ment of her change in plans immediately, for he 
 feared lest she might again alter her mind. When 
 he returned from Faversham 's hotel, and told her 
 that her former fiancd was quite inebriated, and 
 scarcely realized the meaning of his words, she 
 threw out her arms as if shaking off the last trace of 
 his memory, and said : 
 
 " Thank you, dear old boy. Vou are such a good 
 fellow always to stand up for me, whether I am right 
 
 77 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 or wrong. Let me give you a kiss. That was a 
 narrow escape, and I am glad the affair is over." 
 
 Faversham went for an extended debauch to Hon- 
 olulu by the next steamer, and the returning mail 
 brought news of his death before his arrival in 
 Hawaii. Immediately every one said, " A broken 
 heart a woman was his ruin " ; but the ship's stew- 
 ards could have easily set them right. 
 
 Theodosia wore black for three months and refused 
 all invitations. 
 
Chapter VII 
 THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID . 
 
 every city there are a few persons of 
 whom society asks neither excuses nor 
 explanations ; in San Francisco Theodosia 
 was one of these. During her period of mourning, 
 she wore a solemn mien in keeping with her garb, 
 and went often to the Catholic Church, thereby 
 alarming the rector of Grace Church, who gently 
 and vainly protested. She, however, only laughed 
 and rather encouraged the rumor that she might 
 at any time take the veil. Still, when again she 
 wore colors, she went back to her former gay, 
 merry, pleasure-bent self. San Francisco might in- 
 terpret her in its thousand own ways; she disre- 
 garded its existence, and did not seem conscious of 
 the feminine alarm over her reappearance in society. 
 From this time forward the newest philosophy of 
 the mind, soul, theology, or science found Theodosia 
 ready to coquet with it. She took a trip to India to 
 decide for herself if Alibabahula, who claimed to 
 be the Messiah, really was God's mundane represen- 
 tative. Sally Livingston remarked that Theodosia 
 
 79 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 must have either a man or religion to flirt with. 
 When she returned she brought back an emerald 
 wineglass which he gave her, and the epitaph on the 
 grave of her fad was, " Alababahula had the most 
 glorious eyes in the world." 
 
 She knew intimately most of the celebrated men 
 and women of that period. The world smoothed 
 down the prominences of her individuality, leaving 
 her character somewhat arrested in its development. 
 
 She met a stately, white-haired leader of the 
 Senate, whom she had long desired to know. "I'm 
 a perfect goose, Senator, a mere autograph album of 
 great people, but you will let me know you, will you 
 not ? I warn you I can do nothing but understand 
 and admire you." 
 
 The Senator, observing carefully the velvety flush 
 of her cheeks, the blue of her eyes, and the gold of 
 her hair, made her his most courteous bow, and said : 
 " Miss Peyton, it is unnecessary for you to do any- 
 thing. Your duty is finished since you exist and 
 allow us to see you." 
 
 Directly they were the best of friends. They were 
 to wed, all expected, but, instead, she sailed for Japan. 
 Theodosia shied at matrimony, for once she had been 
 badly frightened by it. 
 
 On the morning of her twenty-first birthday Theo- 
 dosia had been alarmed at herself. Several weeks 
 
 80 
 
THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID 
 
 had passed without an event, book, or individual to 
 attract her. She wondered if she had lived at too 
 great speed and exhausted sensation. Six-in-hands 
 bored her because there were no interesting men or 
 animals to harness. She knew how they all would 
 act. 
 
 When admirers made love to her, they no longer 
 pleased her vanity. During the most impassioned 
 scenes she found herself wishing the suppliant would 
 change his tailor, comb his hair differently, or could 
 say " I love you " without turning red. 
 
 This was a state of mind which terrorized her. 
 Ennui was to Theodosia, so utterly dependent upon 
 her surroundings, as dyspepsia is to a gourmand or 
 alcoholism to a drunkard. Could it be that the end 
 to amusement had come? 
 
 It was Miss Peyton's nature to desire all life's 
 pleasures, to know and feel to the tips of her fingers 
 the fullest measure that beauty, strength, culture, 
 luxury, and art can supply. Theodosia had some 
 doubts about her future existence. Especially she 
 dreaded to be stripped of all her follies, faults, and 
 sins to become "just a commonplace angel," as she 
 said. So, hugging every one of them to her bosom, 
 she feverishly sought excitement and amusement. 
 Her only fear was that she would be robbed of some 
 
 pleasure in this life. 
 
 6 8j 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 One and twenty found Theodosia at the Peyton 
 country home at Santa Cruz with nothing but ennui 
 as far as the horizon stretched. She shuddered. 
 
 Presently Prince Alessandro Ruspoli appeared at 
 that resort as the guest of the Italian consul. He 
 was the cousin of King Humbert by the morganatic 
 marriage of the Princess Vittoria of the House of 
 Savoy with Gen. Alessandro Ruspoli. Because the 
 Princess so faithfully and obstinately had awaited 
 the King's consent during many years to wed her 
 soldier lover, Humbert never permitted the Ruspoli 
 descendants to feel that there was a flaw in their 
 birth. While of course barred from succession, at 
 court they had the privileges to which the rank of 
 their mother entitled them, but they were quite de- 
 pendent upon the humors of their royal cousins. 
 
 Theodosia felt that the Prince was the impossible, 
 the unattainable; and inconsequence life again wore 
 rose and mauve tints for her. It was the gay sum- 
 mer season at Santa Cruz, and in those days the best 
 and most beautiful of California remained at home 
 instead of passing the time abroad. The Italian met 
 with courteous ceremony the handsome young women 
 who received him with too much effusion. 
 
 Theodosia continued her rowing, swimming, and 
 riding, seemingly oblivious that he existed. When 
 
 Miss Peyton saw a group of friends determined to 
 
 82 
 
THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID 
 
 present Ruspoli to her, she went in the opposite 
 direction. Santa Cruz was treated to a daily hunt 
 for Theodosia. She refused an invitation to luncheon 
 because she knew he was to be a guest. Yet that 
 was a brilliant azure and silver day. Theodosia was 
 merely watching her champagne bubble before she 
 drank it. 
 
 At last the Prince vowed that he would leave 
 Santa Cruz. All her friends pleaded with her to 
 meet him, and Theodosia graciously permitted the 
 introduction. 
 
 Ruspoli had fixed his day of departure for a week 
 from the time he met Miss Peyton, but one month, 
 two months, three months passed, and still he was to 
 leave the following week. The Peytons returned 
 from Santa Cruz and the Prince assured every one 
 that he would depart within a fortnight, altho the 
 climate of the Golden Gate was most delightful. 
 San Francisco, strangely enough, was like his own 
 land, and it held him enthralled. 
 
 Yet society knew why he remained, and Colonel 
 Peyton informed his daughter of his objection to the 
 Italian's presence. Her friends could not under- 
 stand her folly, because the Prince was necessarily 
 subject to the will of his cousin. In a case in which 
 marriage was so utterly out of the question, the 
 practical, feminine American mind could not com- 
 
 83 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 prehend why Theodosia wasted her time. As winter 
 wore on she had the new experience of being harshly 
 criticized by the Puritanical tongues of the city. 
 None could comprehend that Theodosia and the 
 Prince were fascinated by their inability to belong 
 to each other. 
 
 During those months he would have told a less 
 experienced woman that he loved her, but Theodosia 
 ever bounded away from him when he began. She 
 forbade him to write her letters. 
 
 In reality nothing had interested Theodosia so 
 much since her study of the Roman Catholic Church 
 in Spanish. Now she recalled the pleasure she had 
 felt in watching the young priest balance himself on 
 the edge of the precipice, and then for giddiness run 
 back. 
 
 Every person was to Theodosia a puzzle and she 
 amused herself with the solution of it. There were 
 ever unusual natures being placed in unexpected 
 circumstances. Here was Prince Alessandro Rus- 
 poli, who had no right to her, following her every- 
 where, and, by her will and against her will, looking 
 love, sighing love doing everything but speaking it. 
 There were no rules or comparisons by which she 
 could fancy the result. She never had read the 
 same story before. 
 
 Ruspoli called to take tea with her the day after 
 84 
 
THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID 
 
 she learned that Stryne was imprisoned. As he en- 
 tered the room, his dark eyes glistening in their 
 deep sockets, she wondered if she really cared to 
 know the last chapter. Ruspoli wore the frock-coat 
 of the period which gave him exceedingly broad 
 shoulders and a small waist. His cheeks were color- 
 less, but health was in his eyes and lips. As he 
 bent over her hand, he said by his look, his attitude, 
 all that words could have told her. No man's salu- 
 tation meant so much. 
 
 Ruspoli looked at Theodosia in her silver gauze 
 princesse gown, with her hair as usual in long curls 
 down her back, her eyes shining from the pleasure of 
 his presence. His glance read the wish that they 
 might continue to drift along in their old philander- 
 ing relation. 
 
 He spoke in Italian as he always did when ear- 
 nest : " No, it can not be like this, Signorina. Now 
 that I have uttered those words, every check on my- 
 self has been swept away. It was more than cruel 
 of you to force me to wait these long days to talk 
 with you. Ah, but you could not prevent me from 
 seeing you. You rode yesterday at ten, Signorina. 
 You drove in the afternoon, wearing a blue gown, a 
 blue hat with a pink rose. You returned at six, 
 Signorina. At five minutes past eleven the lights 
 in your room were turned out. I remained looking 
 
 85 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 at your window until twelve. Once I saw your 
 shadow on the curtain. When I was positive that 
 you dreamt I went away. Shall I give you a catalog 
 of the other days ? " 
 
 "No, Prince." 
 
 " Have you nothing to say to me, not a word ? I 
 waited very long, Signorina. " 
 
 Ruspoli's eyes approached hers closely and held 
 them prisoners while he spoke. As he awaited an 
 answer Theodosia realized that he was more the 
 master than she. Then she walked quickly to the 
 window, and returned, her face amiably indifferent, 
 the usual Theodosia. 
 
 " Yes," said she, with simulated gravity, " I have 
 something to tell you, something important, which 
 will sadden you, I know. My dinner for Mr. Stryne 
 must be postponed." 
 
 "Oh, Signorina," groaned Ruspoli. 
 
 " It is true, Prince, for he is in jail, put there by 
 us, by you, me, Colonel Peyton, the Walsinghams, 
 the Pickens, all of us bandits of the earth. It's 
 odious, a crying, burning disgrace. To think you 
 can say these frivolous things while that poor 
 fellow is languishing down there in prison. .Are 
 you not ashamed of yourself? You ought to 
 be." 
 
 "Signorina, I love thee." 
 86 
 
THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID 
 
 " Don't talk to me about love, Prince, when that 
 martyr is in a horrid, moldy, awful cell, suffering, 
 starving, while the rest of us are in comfort. It is 
 a sin." 
 
 Percy Oglethorpe had just entered with Adele 
 Whiting. Adele not only wore the misfit clothing 
 of Theodosia, but hoped for her cast-off lovers as 
 well. 
 
 " Dear Miss Peyton," drawled Oglethorpe, " pray 
 do not make sentimental statements. Stryne is as 
 jolly comfortable as we are. His cell is fitted with 
 cushions, rugs, flowers. His meals are sent him 
 from the best restaurants. They are really making 
 a hero of him. I dare say the chap is very happy. 
 It is more than he deserves. " 
 
 " He was always a hero, Percy Oglethorpe." 
 
 "Doesn't that depend upon the point of view, Miss 
 Peyton ? I dare say, now, Pickens would not agree 
 with you. There is no denying that Stryne made a 
 bonfire of his lumber." 
 
 " Of course, and he had a right to it, Mr. Ogle- 
 thorpe, because Mr. Pickens is a bandit, like you, 
 like me, like the Prince, like Adele, like all of us 
 who have more than we deserve, and then lock up 
 men like Stryne merely because they are trying to 
 put bread in the mouths of the poor. We ought to 
 help him." 
 
 87 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Oglethorpe sank into his chair. Ruspoli was in 
 speechless despair. 
 
 Adele Whiting exclaimed, " Now, Theo dear, don't 
 call me a bandit. I haven't a cent to my name. I 
 have three good dresses, but I am sure I don't know 
 however I can hope to replace them. I never saw 
 the day yet when I wasn't hard up. In fact I'm a 
 Strynite except that I happen to be in society. " 
 
 " It really isn't fair of you, Miss Peyton, to class 
 a beggar like me as an oppressor of the poor," argued 
 Percy. " I have reached the point where I never 
 hope to pay any bills, and it keeps me jolly busy de- 
 stroying them. The confounded tradesmen really 
 oppress me. I think I'll become a corner grocer and 
 send bills to people. As for poor Pickens, how could 
 he help it that his railway stock went up ? Should 
 he have given it away? Even if he is dishonest, 
 there is no reason why the lumber of his house 
 should be burned and the palaces of the other Nob 
 Hill ' bandits ' left standing. The law doesn't 
 allow it." 
 
 "Percy Oglethorpe, what do I care about law? 
 Right is right. If our laws are wrong, let us amend 
 them. Think of us highwaymen daring to pass laws 
 to prevent Mr. Stryne from holding his meetings ! 
 What do you think of our governor? What do you 
 
 think of police so corrupt as to enforce them ? In- 
 
 88 
 
THEODOSIA AS BONDSMAID 
 
 cendiary language, indeed! Why don't they arrest 
 me? Haven't I said dreadful things about all of 
 them?" 
 
 " They don't arrest you, Theo dear, because you 
 are a beautiful, blue-eyed bandit," answered Adele 
 Whiting. 
 
 " That's just it. I am a highwayman. I can do 
 anything I please while that poor fellow, I am sure, 
 is starving in a dark, damp cell," returned Theodosia, 
 swept into soft pity by her own words. 
 
 " Must I correct your poetry again, Miss Peyton ? 
 Really the fellow is awfully comfortable and jolly 
 happy. I believe he is to leave prison if he can find 
 some one to guarantee bail. Oh, he will get free in 
 a few days, be quite easy on that point; and when 
 he comes out, he will make enough trouble to satisfy 
 even your exacting self. " 
 
 " You say Mr. Stryne may be released if one pays 
 money, mere money, mere dollars, mere shares and 
 bonds and things like that ? " cried Theodosia. 
 
 " Yes, if one has enough of them. His bail is 
 fixed rather high. It is a trifle difficult to find a 
 Strynite with a hundred thousand dollars, you know. " 
 
 " Ah, Adele, Percy, Prince, tell me how much is 
 Con. Virginia worth? What is the Comstock quoted 
 at ? I have three hundred and fifty shares and the 
 
 same of Con. Virginia. Does any one know their 
 
 89 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 value? Ninety thousand dollars, and I need ten 
 thousand more. My diamonds, my rubies, my rings, 
 ah, heaven bless them ! I love them now. They are 
 worth three times that. Now, come along, every- 
 body." 
 
 "Whither, Miss Peyton? " asked Oglethorpe. 
 
 "I pray, Signorina, where are we going?" inter- 
 rogated Ruspoli, helplessly. 
 
 " Don't you know ? There is but one place to go 
 and that is to see Mr. Stryne and be his bondswo- 
 man, or bondsmaid, or whatever is the feminine of 
 bondsman," answered Theodosia, greatly surprised at 
 their dulness. 
 
 " Wait until to-morrow, I supplicate, Signorina. 
 Talk with Colonel Peyton," advised Ruspoli. 
 
 " I couldn't sleep a wink to-night if I did. Come 
 along." 
 
 " I will go with you, Theo dear, for you are the 
 maddest darling in the world; but I make one de- 
 mand, and that is that you don't wear that gauze 
 frock." 
 
 " Oh, it is easily arranged, Adele, I will put a 
 long, black wrap over it all. Let us hurry. We 
 will fetch Mr.. Stryne back to dinner," 
 
 90 
 
Chapter VIII 
 THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST 
 
 [E rescuing party left the Peyton house 
 about six o'clock and walked down Cali- 
 fornia Street to Kearny Street. Ruspoli, 
 according to Theodosia's arrangement, escorted Adele 
 Whiting, while Oglethorpe accompanied her. 
 
 " I have the pleasure of going with you, Miss 
 Peyton, not that you care a hang about having me 
 along, but merely to vex the other fellow. Under 
 those circumstances, even, I am grateful," remarked 
 Oglethorpe. 
 
 " Percy, you are a nice, sensible boy," said Theo- 
 dosia. " You are so cheerful. You never have 
 melodramatics, and I am not sure but I like you 
 after all better than any one I know." 
 
 " In other words, you are quite indifferent to me, 
 and always will be," said Oglethorpe. 
 
 Adele Whiting, who was enraptured because she 
 was able to pick up a crumb of the Prince's attention, 
 approached Theodosia closely from behind and ap- 
 pealed : 
 
 "Theo dear, don't carry this practical joke any 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 farther. It is becoming serious. Ugh ! It makes 
 me shiver to think of going near that horrid jail. 
 You really do not mean it, do you ? " 
 
 Ruspoli added his word of supplication, and Ogle- 
 thorpe persuaded in unison with the others. 
 
 "Very well, you robbers, you highwaymen, all 
 return to your spoils and ill-gotten gains. I go 
 alone, if necessary.*' 
 
 " Not possible, Signorina, believe me." 
 
 " Of course, you shall not go alone, Miss Peyton. 
 Not unless we all drop dead this minute, " assured 
 Percy. 
 
 " Recollect, girlie, we accompany you because we 
 are willing to make geese of ourselves for you, rather 
 than see you do it alone," explained Miss Whiting. 
 
 They were very near the jail, which was sur- 
 rounded by a number of men and women with tear- 
 stained, grief-worn faces. 
 
 " I was at the savings-bank bright and early this 
 morning," moaned one old woman, "because I 
 thought my two thousand put with some one else's 
 money would help Mr. Stryne out." 
 
 "Me, too," responded her neighbor, Regan, an 
 iron-molder. 
 
 "We bailed Mr. Stryne out once, but they put 
 him right back in again, Mrs. Magee, on more 
 
 charges of conspiracy and incendiary language. 
 
 92 
 
THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST 
 
 Lawyers kin do anything, lawyers kin. When they 
 burn all the law-books and hang all the lawyers, we 
 may have some laws worth living under. Every 
 charge of conspiracy and incendiary language against 
 Mr. Stryne means ten thousand dollars, and now it 
 costs a triflin' sum of a hundred thousand for him 
 to see the light of day." 
 
 " An' I like you to tell me, Mr. Regan," answered 
 the woman, " how we could have a hundred thousand 
 dollars after all our bread has been eat by Chinamen. 
 It is the Walsinghams, the Pickenses, the Peytons 
 that has got it. Let them come down and bail him 
 out." This last sentence, loudly and distinctly 
 uttered, caused bitter laughter. 
 
 Theodosia stepped through the crowd hastily and 
 sprang lightly up the steps. The guard quickly 
 admitted the party to the waiting-room. The young 
 girl asked her companions to pass into the officer's 
 apartment, for her intuition warned her that it would 
 be better to see the socialist alone. 
 
 She gave her name to the attendant, who repeated 
 it to Stryne. The agitator was pacing up and down 
 his cell. He wore his blue shirt, a bandanna hand- 
 kerchief around his neck, and his lips were com- 
 pressed. His forehead wrinkled into a heavy frown 
 as he heard the word Peyton. 
 
 "Are you sure, guard? Is the name Peyton? 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Young, not bad -looking, with infernal yellow 
 curls?" 
 
 "That's the lady, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 "Tell her I can't see her. Tell her I won't see 
 her. Do you understand, I won't see her. Good 
 God ! That settles it. She has come with a cup of 
 coffee. I know I shall never get out of here now. 
 It was not a superstition. It was she. But for that 
 damnable doubt, I should not be here this moment. 
 I won't see her." 
 
 Stryne was pale in the gloom of his cell and he 
 imagined that he was being strangled by a thick mass 
 of yellow curls tangled about his neck. He leaned 
 against the door for an instant, and then he said : 
 
 " What did I tell you to say to the lady, guard? " 
 
 "That you won't see her, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 "Now, that I reconsider, I don't think I would 
 use just that language. Say to her : ' Mr. Stryne 
 presents his compliments to Miss Peyton and begs 
 that under the peculiar circumstances she will excuse 
 him for not appearing.' ' 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Now, what are you going to say to the lady, 
 guard?" 
 
 "That you won't see her, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 " Repeat the message I just gave you, word for 
 word, please. ' Mr. Stryne presents his compliments 
 
 94 
 
THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST 
 
 to Miss Peyton, and begs that under the peculiar 
 circumstances she will excuse him for not appearing. ' 
 Be sure not to forget a word." 
 
 The attendant bowed, and, disappearing into the 
 waiting-room, delivered the answer. Theodosia was 
 walking restlessly about the room, gazing at the bare 
 walls, when she received it. 
 
 "There surely is some mistake," insisted she. 
 
 " Tell Mr. Stryne that I am Miss Peyton, Colonel 
 Peyton's daughter, that I must see him. It is a very 
 important matter to him. Do not forget Colonel 
 Peyton's daughter." 
 
 Presently Stryne entered the apartment, his head 
 well poised, his coat buttoned straight to his chin, 
 his countenance grave. He bowed with dignity. 
 Theodosia crossed the room, tears drowning the for- 
 get-me-nots in her eyes, and held out her hand. A 
 sad smile which rent her heart rested upon Stry*ie 's 
 lips as he said : 
 
 " You and I choose strange meeting-places. Do 
 we not, Miss Peyton? " 
 
 " You mean that I choose them, Mr. Stryne, but 
 you create such extraordinary occasions." 
 
 At Stryne's signal they were seated. The social- 
 ist waited to hear Theodosia speak. Her big black 
 hat was bent a trifle to one side, and her yellow curls 
 fell down on her shoulders. Her pink and white 
 
 95 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 rounded face was as troubled as happy, protected 
 youth can be. Theodosia bit her lip and clenched 
 her fingers nervously. 
 
 " I know, Mr. Stryne, that you think I am a 
 bandit, bloated with the blood of the people it was 
 something like that anyway but I'm not a bit of it. 
 I believe in everything you do. Perhaps I am 
 horrid, but I can not help it. I was born of lazy 
 people, you see. If you were descended from idlers, 
 how do you know but you might have been exactly 
 like me? I just cried when you went to prison last 
 night. It is wrong, very wrong, and you must come 
 out" 
 
 " I have tried to do that several times to-day, Miss 
 Peyton, but I find it rather difficult," said Stryne 
 with a smile. 
 
 Quickly Theodosia took from her inside cloak 
 pocket her mining stocks and all her best jewels. 
 She placed them on the table, her lips quivering 
 with joy in the act as she cried : 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Stryne, look at all that. Now you are 
 coming out. There are a hundred thousand dollars 
 and more. I may be a highwayman, as you tell me ; 
 but if I am, I use my spoils to a good purpose. I 
 ask only one favor of you in return, and it is that you 
 will go home with my friends and me to dinner." 
 
 Stryne looked at the packet lying on the table, 
 
THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST 
 
 and then approached Theodosia. " Miss Peyton, 
 what can I say to you ? How can I thank you ? such 
 a splendid woman as you are. It makes one happy 
 to know that a person like you exists. What a pity 
 that your generosity is to no purpose." 
 
 " Why of no avail, Mr. Stryne ? " asked she. 
 
 " Because the officials are determined not to re- 
 lease me, Miss Peyton. The conspiracy law was 
 passed at Sacramento with that intention. If I 
 should offer them your security, and attempt to leave 
 here, directly I should be rearrested with a higher 
 bail demanded." 
 
 "But, Mr. Stryne, I have more bonds. I will 
 compel my father to lend me all he has to release 
 you. Now will you come ? " 
 
 " Miss Peyton, your generosity forces me to tell 
 you the entire truth. Your purpose is so laudable 
 that I dislike to mar the pleasure it gives you, but I 
 can accept nothing from Colonel Peyton ; more em- 
 phatically still, nothing from you. When I leave 
 here it must be by my own endeavor. " 
 
 Theodosia 's tears of pleasure turned into those of 
 wrath and disappointment, but she composed herself 
 for an instant and asked : " Mr. Stryne, do you really 
 mean what you say ? Do you decline to be free ? " 
 
 " I refuse, Miss Peyton, as any one must see, to 
 accept a favor from a woman or from Colonel Peyton." 
 7 97 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " It is only a subterfuge, Mr. Stryne. A woman, 
 indeed ! You decline to allow me the least pleasure 
 from those horrid flaming jewels and those wretched 
 bonds. I always thought they were a nuisance. A 
 little while ago I was so happy and grateful for them. 
 Now I hate everything I own. It is not fair of you 
 to stifle the first unselfish impulse I ever had in my 
 life. You preach about helping the poor, who are 
 ridden over by the wheels of the carriages of the rich. 
 Some of us need a little assistance, I think, and you 
 thwart my very first effort at getting away from my- 
 self and the evils of my class. You might help me 
 develop nobility of character." 
 
 Stryne smiled at her tears, trembling lips, di- 
 sheveled hair, and choking voice. 
 
 "Miss Peyton," said he, "as if you need my help. 
 As if the sun were ever eclipsed or clouded for 
 you. As if from the day of your birth the world has 
 not united to make you in love with life. What 
 can I do for you ? Satisfy a caprice that you will 
 forget to-morrow. You see as clearly as I that it is 
 impossible. My life, Miss Peyton, is too serious a 
 matter to upset for a woman's whim. I must remain 
 here." 
 
 An expression of disdainful enlightenment came 
 into Theodosia's eyes as she brushed the bonds and 
 jewels to the floor and leaned against the table. " You 
 
THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST 
 
 want to stay here, of course. I understand now. 
 How simple I was ! You must laugh at my dulness, 
 Mr. Stryne. Mr. Oglethorpe was right. You want 
 to be the persecuted martyr, suffering in the cause 
 of the oppressed. You feel that every minute you 
 are in prison endears you to your men. I might 
 have thought of that, but I really believed in you. 
 Do what you please with that rubbish on the floor. 
 I have no use for it. I shall never again try to be 
 good. I am going to call my friends." 
 
 Theodosia started toward the door when Stryne 
 sprang to her side and said with rapid intensity: 
 ''Miss Peyton, you must not repeat those words. 
 They are untrue, unjust, and you wrong me. Do 
 you not see that you and I are enemies, that we 
 must remain so ? What would the men who believe 
 in me say were I to allow Colonel Peyton to be my 
 bondsman ? What would they think of me should I 
 accept your offer? Miss Peyton, pardon me, but 
 what would I think of myself if I gained freedom by 
 the aid of a woman, especially the daughter of Colo- 
 nel Peyton ? The nobility of your act lies in the 
 offer itself and not in my acceptance. I am glad 
 you made it. I think I understand the lofty im- 
 pulse that inspired it. Be assured I shall never 
 cease to thank you for giving me such belief in 
 women. Yet, Miss Peyton, if I should accept your 
 
 99 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 kindness, every one of my men who have a faith in 
 me which makes me tremble, every one would call 
 it a bribe and me a traitor. Moreover, they would 
 be right, for I should not be selling myself for money 
 but to please a beautiful woman. You say you 
 sympathize with this movement? Are you willing 
 that I and it come to an end for your caprice? " 
 
 Theodosia dried her eyes, straightened her hat, 
 and shook out her curls. Reluctantly she answered, 
 " Is it really so serious as that, Mr. Stryne? " 
 
 "That is its full gravity, Miss Peyton." 
 
 " But you are very uncomfortable in this dreadful 
 place?" 
 
 " Am I ? I do not know. It is the last thing I 
 think of. I do not live here." 
 
 " Then it is such a disgrace to be in prison, even 
 if one is in the right." 
 
 " It is better to be here, Miss Peyton, than to free 
 myself at the price you ask. That would be a dis- 
 honor I could not endure." 
 
 " Shall you never, never come out ? " 
 
 Stryne smiled. 
 
 " Have no fear. Before a fortnight passes, I will 
 leave here. I do not know the order of my going, 
 but I have a firm conviction of the iact. " 
 
 " When you come away, Mr. Stryne, is what you 
 said true ? Are we to be enemies ? " 
 
 IOO 
 
THE PRINCE MEETS THE SOCIALIST 
 
 "We are France and Germany, Miss Peyton." 
 
 " But many French and Germans are the best of 
 friends." 
 
 ''They only seem so." 
 
 " What a pity, Mr. Stryne," said Theodosia, sha- 
 king her head sadly, and then she added : 
 
 " May I not call my friends and present them to 
 you? " 
 
 " You will not think me uncivilized if I ask you to 
 excuse me. " 
 
 " Mr. Stryne, you are determined that I shall not 
 have one small pleasure." 
 
 " Oh, as you wish," said the socialist in concilia- 
 tion, as Theodosia bade Adele and the two men to 
 enter. 
 
 Oglethorpe and Stryne shook hands after the Eng- 
 lish and American fashion. Ruspoli and the pris- 
 oner merely bowed, and in so doing each seemed to 
 compare himself with the other. As the Socialist 
 greeted the Prince, Stryne's followers would not 
 have recognized him, for he had the ease, grace, and 
 poise of Ruspoli, with whom he exchanged a few 
 words in his language. 
 
 Adele Whiting and Oglethorpe were too well-bred 
 to express their amusement at the failure of Theo- 
 dosia's expedition as she gathered her jewels and 
 papers, but they read it in each other's glance. 
 
 IOI 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Ruspoli alone was grave, and politely, studiously 
 regarded Stryne. 
 
 While they talked, Oglethorpe said in an under- 
 tone to Theodosia : " I told you he has better food 
 here than outside. He does not underestimate the 
 value of imprisonment. You could not pay him to 
 leave." 
 
 Theodosia threw her head back and looked at him 
 between narrowed lids. Percy was silenced. Pres- 
 ently there were adieux and Miss Peyton stepped 
 back from the others as they were leaving to ask of 
 the prisoner: "Tell me, Mr. Stryne, when you are 
 allowed to depart from here, is there to be no truce ? 
 Are we to be active enemies? " 
 
 He bowed and answered, " Officially, Miss Peyton, 
 yes/' 
 
 Theodosia smiiecL 
 
 IO2 
 
Chapter IX 
 THE BIRTH OF A PARTY 
 
 was not an exaggeration when Stryne said 
 that the interests ruling San Francisco and 
 the State believed that he must be de- 
 tained in prison. Many men and women ventured 
 all they possessed to become his bondsmen, but no 
 sooner was he released than he was rearrested. 
 Finally his endeavors to free himself became such a 
 mockery that he refused to continue them. 
 
 His followers one evening held a meeting in spite 
 of the law. The police were hurled out headlong, 
 but fortunately no one was killed. A suggestion 
 was made to break down the jail, but a conservative 
 spirit ruled. Stryne, the succeeding day, sent a 
 message to his supporters, begging them to discon- 
 tinue congregating, which could do him no good, 
 and, without his restraint, might result disastrously. 
 Meanwhile public wrath was fomenting and grow- 
 ing. Lukewarm followers of the agitator became 
 fanatics. The most indifferent felt that the man 
 was being wronged. Officials of the city, congratu- 
 lating each other upon what they considered a tri- 
 
 103 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 umph in restraining him from speech, were singu- 
 larly impervious to the words of any but capitalists, 
 and really believed their acts popular. Only the 
 voice of the socialist from the prison checked riots, 
 anarchy, bloodshed, and civil war. San Francisco 
 was never so near a reign of terror, and this was 
 held back only by the cause of it, Stryne. 
 
 Heretofore the working men's clubs did little but 
 congregate, talk, and enlist members. Nothing was 
 accomplished by them except the sowing of discon- 
 tent. Yet they grew and waited. With nearly 
 fifteen thousand organized men they were unable to 
 release their prisoner from jail. 
 
 An event of seemingly little importance was the 
 death of a State Senator in the North Beach district. 
 It was necessary to choose a representative to take 
 his place. A special election was held. It occurred 
 at a dull time of the year, just when most people 
 were leaving for the country. At first, since the 
 district was strongly Republican, it was thought that 
 the candidate of that party, who was the son of a 
 prominent politician and a recent college graduate, 
 would be elected without any effort. As a matter 
 of form, the Democrats chose a young lawyer desir- 
 ing advertisement, to be slaughtered at the polls. 
 
 Since Stryne became a figure in San Francisco, 
 
 there had been no election. Consequently he was 
 
 104 
 
THE BIRTH OF A PARTY 
 
 not considered a quantity to be reckoned with. 
 There was derision when McCann, the Irish union- 
 president, was nominated on the new Working Men's 
 ticket. 
 
 The senatorial district was inhabited mainly by 
 small property owners, and the great capitalist felt 
 as secure as in his own district. It was held highly 
 amusing of the Working Men's party to make its first 
 appearance in that district. 
 
 The prosperous were positive there was no new 
 issue to change the usual result of election. It was 
 so clear that the Republican was the only respectable 
 party, the one working to save the country from the 
 proven disaster of Democratic rule, that these con- 
 servative middle-class people could do nothing but 
 elect its candidate for the State Senate. Those with 
 the love of battle in their veins wished the contest 
 were not so one-sided. 
 
 McCann, who was one of the well-to-do men of 
 the district, made a house-to-house canvass, speak- 
 ing to small groups of people. The Republican op- 
 ponent was a little vexed when he learned that 
 McCann had forced an issue into the campaign, and 
 that was the incarceration of Stryne. 
 
 McCann laid aside State and national issues. He 
 explained to his constituents, whose babies he had 
 kissed for years preparatory to his flight into the 
 
 I0 5 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 world of statesmanship, that it was merely a question 
 of whether they were to vote for his opponent and 
 approve of the imprisonment of an innocent man, or 
 if they intended to declare themselves in favor of 
 liberty of speech. 
 
 " Neighbors, let me tell you," shouted he one day, 
 in a paroxysm of eloquence, " we are a nice lot of 
 patriots, we are. Our ancistors fought in the Revo- 
 lution for liberty." (McCann had been in America 
 fifteen years. ) 
 
 "The War of 1812 was a warning to Great Britain 
 that we must have all the privileges to which any 
 great independent nation is entitled. Not many 
 years have passed since we spilled the blood of a mil- 
 lion men that the nigger could have the rights which 
 all human beings are born to enjoy. After this 
 fighting for liberty, we lock up the noblest man God 
 ever created for telling the truth to a rascally lot of 
 thieves who set themselves up on Nob Hill so they 
 won't make their eyes sore by looking at such ordi- 
 nary folks as you and me. What do you think of us 
 as patriots ? Oughtn't we to go and sell out or drown 
 ourselves ? 
 
 " Now, neighbors, you know me and I know you. 
 We are all of us with the under man in the fight. My 
 opponent is a very fine gentleman, I believe. He 
 
 wears a plug hat and carries his college diploma in 
 
 1 06 
 
THE BIRTH OF A PAR TV 
 
 his pocket. A slouch hat is good enough for me, I 
 don't belong to the plug-hat brigade, and the only 
 diploma I have is my union card. His fine educa- 
 tion don't seem to make him want to help his fellow 
 men. He says it is right that Paul Stryne should 
 have his voice stopped by prison walls. The only 
 issue in the campaign is, Do you approve of the party 
 that resorts to such dirty tricks? If you do, don't 
 vote for me. I won't have your support. Choose 
 the man with the stovepipe hat and the college 
 diploma." 
 
 The Republican candidate wailed against dema- 
 gogs, and declared himself a man of honor, above 
 the cheap trick, the contemptible artifice of appealing 
 to class prejudice. He called upon the intelligence 
 of his hearers, their interest in the well-being and 
 prosperity of the community. The lawyer declared 
 with emphasis that whether Stryne was in jail or not 
 had nothing to do with the campaign. He pitied 
 him for being there, as he did all law-breakers, but 
 it was not an issue. 
 
 At a meeting where he expected a hearty recep- 
 tion, the Republican candidate was hooted and fre- 
 quently obliged to dodge potatoes and eggs. He 
 went to his managers in thorough disgust, complain- 
 ing that they had told him there was to be no contest, 
 
 when for the life of him he could not see how he 
 
 107 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 was to be elected. They assured the political novice 
 that a great deal of noise and no votes are character- 
 istic of the demagogs' campaign. 
 
 When election day approached, the newspapers 
 accused Stryne of writing McCann's speeches and 
 stated that the agitator was directing his lieutenants' 
 campaign from his cell. They had grown bold dur- 
 ing Stryne's imprisonment. For an election without 
 an issue, it was unusually stormy. 
 
 Five days before the close of the contest, the 
 Democratic candidate, having secured all the adver- 
 tisement he desired and wishing to curry favor with 
 the working men, withdrew in favor of McCann. 
 This forced the first sign of a break in Republican 
 confidence. The retiring statesman was charged in 
 the journals with having sold out to Stryne. Ruling 
 influences in politics realized that something must 
 be done to prevent a stampede to McCann. Their 
 candidate came into the committee-room two nights 
 before election and threatened to withdraw if some 
 one was not seen and Stryne released from prison. 
 
 " I might as well give up," said he ; " for every 
 howl that fellow sends out from jail is good for a 
 dozen votes. He has nothing to do with the fight, 
 but he makes the people think so, which amounts to 
 the same thing. Have the railroad and mining peo- 
 ple release him the day before election. " 
 
 1 08 
 
THE BIRTH OF A PARTY 
 
 his occasioned a long parley. The active work- 
 ing politicians were in favor of granting the candi- 
 date's request, but the men representing the great 
 corporations combated it, for it was a boon they 
 could not concede without admitting weakness. 
 They refused to be cowards. They answered that 
 they would rather see McCann elected. 
 
 The election of the Senator was of small import, 
 but when it became known that it was a struggle 
 between the imprisoned Stryne and the moneyed in- 
 terests, the entire city and State became interested. 
 This was to be a test vote. 
 
 The working men's candidate closed his campaign 
 with a large rally; the demonstration was so great 
 that it seemed every voting voice in the city was 
 there screaming its approval of McCann. Election 
 day showed that the district which previously was 
 Republican by a majority of one thousand had 
 chosen Patrick McCann State Senator by a plurality 
 of twelve hundred. Until his death he attributed his 
 election to the charm of his presence, the eloquence 
 of his speech, and the quality of his Americanism. 
 He secretly hoped to go to the national Senate. 
 
 The morning following McCann's election came 
 half a dozen offers from bondsmen for Stryne's re- 
 lease from prison. He accepted them, and again en- 
 deavored to free himself. 
 
 109 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 The socialist explained to his followers that he 
 had no hesitancy in accepting their security, since 
 he came there in his effort to better their condition. 
 He walked from his cell down the street to his room 
 south of Market Street unmolested. There was no 
 judge in San Francisco bold enough to issue a war- 
 rant for Stryne's arrest, for from his cell he had been 
 sufficiently potent to direct the election of a State 
 Senator. His prophecy to Theodosia was fulfilled. 
 He was free and by his own endeavor. The work- 
 ing men ceased to be regarded as a mere hungry band 
 of the discontented and idle. They were a political 
 party, the party of the future, and Stryne was their 
 leader. 
 
 no 
 
Chapter X 
 THEODOSIA EXAMINES HERSELF 
 
 jjROM the day of Stryne's release the forces 
 opposing him assumed a conciliatory at- 
 titude. It was expected that, since he had 
 
 elected a State Senator, from that time forward he 
 would take a more active part in politics. He him- 
 self said nothing on the subject, but it was freely 
 stated that Stryne was to be the future boss of San 
 Francisco. 
 
 Walsingham and Pickens called at his headquarters 
 and told him they admired the force and energy of 
 youth, even tho rash. They felt he was deserving 
 of assistance and so gave him secret advice, that 
 Eldorado would rise several points the following day. 
 Stryne was quite welcome to profit by the informa- 
 tion, but they trusted he would not make it public. 
 
 The socialist's answer was that he had no money ; 
 and even were he sufficiently fortunate to possess it, 
 he could not afford to take the risk in stock gambling 
 while there were so many surrounding him needing 
 food, shelter, and clothing. The capitalists kindly 
 pff ered to open an account for him with their brokers, 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 but he politely refused the offer. Colonel Peyton 
 was the only man of the railroad clique who did not 
 make the acquaintance of Stryne. 
 
 Aspirants for small offices and great alike sought 
 him. These harbingers of success ranged from em- 
 bryotic assemblymen to judges of the supreme court. 
 Even candidates of the United States Senate were 
 not averse to knowing him and expressing their good- 
 will. 
 
 For the first time Stryne moved out of the limits 
 of the city and he decided to follow his fame into 
 the remote parts of the State. Wherever he traveled 
 he addressed large audiences. The poor and the 
 representatives of the great financial interests alike 
 went to hear him. The sound of his voice, the 
 glance of his eye, the touch of his hand made men 
 disregard his words and believe only in him. He 
 was the savior of them all, the messiah of the labor- 
 ing man. 
 
 While on his journey, Stryne organized working 
 men's clubs. A campaign was not far distant, and 
 all realized that he would control nominations if not 
 elections. 
 
 When he returned from his trip to the north and 
 south, it was conservatively estimated that forty 
 thousand voters were under his influence. Many 
 from the Democratic and Republican parties had 
 
 112 
 
THEODOSIA EXAMINES HERSELF 
 
 joined him, but the former gave him more support 
 than the latter. There was a very large element of 
 the young, the unknown, the ambitious, demagogs, 
 dreamers, students, men fresh from the University, 
 all hoping to escape the tedious climb to success by 
 riding on the great Stryne wave. The masses were 
 positive that at their leader's word the legislature, 
 mayor, and governor were to be chosen. The opu- 
 lent feared that there was serious cause for this 
 belief. 
 
 During the weeks of Stryne's absence on his tour 
 of the State, Theodosia was entertaining different 
 sets of friends at Santa Cruz. Ruspoli passed his 
 time between the summer resort and the city, seeing 
 very little of Miss Peyton. When he was in town 
 Theodosia received long letters from him, imploring 
 the privilege of passing one afternoon with her at 
 her place in the country. Once he wrote : 
 
 DEAREST LADY : Is it friendship, indifference, or 
 repugnance you experience for me ? I ask now, for 
 when we meet I can utter no question ; all my spirit 
 is so full of you, so overcome by that perfume of 
 sweetness which stifles me. Yet my unslakable 
 longing is to be once more in the presence of your 
 unquenching beauty. 
 
 Other gentlemen that I might name, for whom you 
 are confessedly unconcerned, have the daily privilege 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 of being by your side. I only am excluded, yet 
 every moment, I see, I feel only you, sweeping de- 
 liciously over my every fiber, transporting me far 
 away from earthly affinities to the infinite stars, 
 where only love lives, the true ideal supernatural life. 
 And you are so supremely dear that I would not give 
 one moment of this intoxication for all eternity. No, 
 not tho the time is to come when you will not 
 listen, and little by little I must wring the life out 
 of my love. T would almost pray you to command 
 me to do this now or call me to you. 
 
 My essence, my force, all my self I have given you. 
 There is not a recess of my heart hidden from you, 
 not a desire nor a heart-beat but you have felt it. 
 One should bestow all this silently, I know, but I 
 am weak or selfish enough to ask a moment in return. 
 I desire only to see you again, to rebreathe that balsam 
 which inebriates, that ineffable sweetness you 
 dear lady. RUSPOLI. 
 
 What the Prince stated was true. Oglethorpe 
 and Lieutenant Armstrong saw Theodosia with ut- 
 most freedom. Of all her admirers he only lived at 
 a distance from her. When she called him to her 
 side it was ever with an appearance of reluctance. 
 He was given cordiality or indifference according to 
 her mood, and directly exiled to San Francisco until 
 her temper changed. To be sure it was only ninety 
 miles; but then, he argued, the tragedy of Romeo 
 
 occurred because he was banished twenty from Juliet 
 
 114 
 
THEODOSIA EXAMINES HERSELF 
 
 When Theodosia read the Prince's letter she was 
 overwhelmed with such a confusion of reasons for 
 her treatment of him that she had no inclination to 
 disentangle them. At that moment she brushed them 
 all aside and responded with a little note in Italian, 
 asking him to sail with them to Monterey. 
 
 Later Miss Peyton sat looking out on a lavender 
 and grayish-pink horizon where she might have seen 
 a sail had she not been endeavoring to answer the 
 Prince's questions for herself. Of course she would 
 never be sufficiently absurd to reply to him. 
 
 Of all the sentiments felt for him, only friendship 
 contained serious consideration. Theodosia liked to 
 place all her men, and especially the Prince, on that 
 basis. It was so sensible, so prudent, so exclusive. 
 She was the only woman she knew who, after seeing 
 Ruspoli's eyes, with pupil and iris the same in color, 
 burning into her own, would not have given friend- 
 ship notice. 
 
 Finally it occurred to her that friendship is essen- 
 tially sympathy of the mind, and the* Prince and she 
 here were hardly in unison. Besides she knew as 
 well as another that men with eyes and guardsmen's 
 shoulders like Ruspoli do not inspire friendship 
 among young women. 
 
 Was she in love with him? No, of course not. 
 What did she want of him? She wished to give 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 him nothing, but he must give her all, his mind, his 
 heart, his soul. The Prince could not marry her, 
 but if he could ? The thought was dizzying. Why ? 
 Because she was a silly woman and he was a 
 handsome man and he could say, " My cousin, the 
 King." 
 
 When would she be willing to give him up? The 
 question hammered into her ears and numbed her 
 brain. She answered to herself, he must never leave 
 her. Why? Vanity. Every woman has vanity. 
 It is less humiliating than love, for it is not a sur- 
 render of self. Why did she see him so rarely? 
 Because she wished to keep him ; because, when he 
 could not meet her, he realized every second his 
 affection. 
 
 This answer satisfied her inquisitive self until the 
 interrogation came, "Is Theodosia afraid of Rus- 
 poli ? " She laughed and was happy that she did so, 
 for the spontaneity of her mirth proved the sugges- 
 tion ridiculous. 
 
 "How very vain I must be," thought she. "I 
 care nothing for him. To be absolutely honest, per- 
 haps I have a slight interest in him, a caprice as for 
 Von Sternberg and the Spanish priest and the others. 
 But Ruspoli must love me because he does it so well, 
 with such an effect of newness and strangeness. If 
 
 he did not love me I should be unhappy. It would 
 
 116 
 
THEODOSIA EXAMINES HERSELF 
 
 be almost another world." She felt that her cross- 
 examination was complete. 
 
 When the Prince arrived there was a sail to Mon- 
 terey and return. Colonel Peyton was in charge of 
 the party. As they were saying their adieux, Rus- 
 poli bent over Theodosia's hand and proved the pos- 
 sible eloquence of a simple good night. 
 
 " Signorina, how shall I express to you my thanks 
 for this great pleasure ? I have been able to look at 
 you for twelve hours and you were gracious every 
 minute. You never were so kind. I don't wish to 
 sleep to-night and forget it. Must I go back to 
 San Francisco to-morrow? " 
 
 " As you wish, Prince. Adele and I are running 
 up for a few days." 
 
 " And you will allow me to see you four hours 
 more on the train? Ah, Signorina, you are too 
 charming. I realize how presumptuous I am, but 
 had you the least idea in planning the trip that we 
 might travel together? " 
 
 "How droll you are! Not in the least, Prince. 
 Adele and I are merely going to town to arrange the 
 dinner for Mr. Stryne I promised you so long ago. 
 Whether we can induce him to accept is another 
 matter, but we have planned a campaign." 
 
 " You are unnecessarily cruel, Signorina. It was 
 
 to have been such a happy night for me. Must you 
 
 117 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 always give me pain? If some day only you will 
 travel four hours to please me. The thought is too 
 delicious for realization. Heaven is still in the 
 skies." 
 
 Theodosia was in a pink evening- gown, and the 
 color of the silk suffused her cheeks and shoulders. 
 Ruspoli, with his eyes fixed always upon her, mark- 
 ing the quiver of an eyelash, noted this. He breathed 
 quickly and almost gasped the words : 
 
 " Signorina, Theodosia, given of the gods, thou 
 dost care. Some day thou wilt come. Yes, I see 
 it. Do not say no. I love thee. Thou shalt love 
 me. Dio mio. What a thought ! What a dream ! 
 Love!" 
 
 The Italian, quite pale, sank into a window-seat, 
 the strong, slender, shaking hands covering his face. 
 Theodosia, with more gentleness than she had ever 
 offered him, went to his side and almost tenderly 
 said, " Now you must go, Prince. Good-night." 
 
 Ruspoli arose, again bowed over her hand with 
 much ceremony, and answered : 
 
 " Signorina, God does well to keep some joys from 
 us, for they kill. Buona notte" 
 
 The next day when the Prince called at the Peyton 
 house to act as escort of Miss Peyton and Miss 
 Whiting to San Francisco, he was told that they had 
 
 arisen early and taken the morning train. 
 
 118 
 
Chapter XI 
 STALKING THE LION 
 
 'RYNE was occupied with his plans for the 
 first convention of the working men who 
 were to meet in August and make nomina- 
 tions for State and city officials. Every evening he 
 spoke on the sand-lot to increasing audiences. After 
 each address he held an impromptu reception, and 
 all who desired conversed with him. During the 
 day he visited the club, called on families in need, 
 and made the acquaintance of every voter. His 
 memory became proverbial, and he recalled faces 
 and names with equal facility. 
 
 Considerable time was spent by him in writing 
 and distributing pamphlets setting forth the wrongs 
 of the working men in California and the possible 
 cure for them. Republicans and Democrats endeav- 
 ored to counteract the effect of these circulars with 
 contradictory statements. 
 
 Theodosia realized that if she wrote a note to 
 Stryne, again entreating him to be her guest, a re- 
 fusal was certain. It was equally impossible to at- 
 tend the meetings on the sand-lot with any hope of 
 
 119 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 conversing with him. She felt that she must see 
 him personally, and so she decided upon long walks 
 with Adele Whiting south of Market Street, near 
 his home. 
 
 Miss Peyton never before had arisen so early, but 
 eight o'clock saw her and Adele walking in most 
 unlikely streets. The first and second ventures were 
 fruitless. The third morning, as Theodosia awoke, 
 she said to her companion : 
 
 " Adele, I have a flash, and you know my flashes 
 come true. To-day we are going to meet Paul 
 Stryne. I feel it. I think I shall wear my blue 
 cloth gown and my blue hat ; with my blue eyes we 
 shall make him dine with us. Shan't we, old girl ? " 
 
 " I don't believe in your flashes any more, Theo 
 dear. You had one yesterday morning, and we did 
 not meet him. Let us sleep and not trouble." 
 
 However, Theodosia insisted, and within a few 
 minutes was dressed in a dark-blue princesse gown, 
 then much in vogue, the trimming of which consisted 
 of two rows of tiny buckles extending from her collar 
 to the bottom of the skirt. With it she wore a large, 
 dark blue, heavily plumed hat. 
 
 As Theodosia went down the California Street 
 hill, her white young flesh glowing, her large full 
 eyes blue as the mountain sky, her body erect and 
 
 well poised, there was something in the spring of her 
 
 120 
 
UNIVE 
 STALKING THE LION 
 
 MM -MMMMMMMM^BHMMMMMW-PM^HMMMWMMMMMiMMM 
 
 step, the unruliness in the fluff of her long yellow 
 curls, which reminded one of a thoroughbred colt de- 
 bating whether it is better to wear a bridle or run 
 away. 
 
 The morning air was fresh and warm, and youth 
 leaped in her veins. She felt that suddenly her soul 
 was kindled, and she exulted in her strength, beauty, 
 and the joy of living. She desired to scream for 
 the mere pleasure of respiration. There was nothing 
 in the world which mattered to her at that moment. 
 What did she care whether or not she met Stryne, so 
 long as she could breathe ? 
 
 The young women passed his house and he was 
 not to be seen. They walked around the block and 
 still the socialist was not visible. The mind of a 
 handsome woman on a beautiful morning may easily 
 cloud. Theodosia pinched Adele Whiting's arm and 
 forced a groan from her when she saw Stryne de- 
 scending the steps of the cottage where he lodged. 
 
 " Adele, isn't that some one I've seen before ? I 
 think so. Who is it ? " 
 
 "Couldn't for the life of me imagine, Theo. 
 However, the face is rather familiar now that I think 
 of it. This is a glorious morning." 
 
 " Why, Adele, isn't that Mr. Stryne coming up 
 the street?" 
 
 " Mr. Stryne ? I don't know him. Oh, you mean 
 
 121 
 
 ; 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Mr. Stryne, the socialist? Really, so it is. Who 
 would have thought that we should meet him here? 
 Queer, isn't it? " said Miss Whiting. 
 
 " It is the first time we have encountered him, isn't 
 it? And we walked this way so often too. Now it 
 occurs to me, Adele, I am going to ask him to din- 
 ner. I have wanted to do that for such a long time. " 
 
 At this point the ladies and Stryne were facing 
 each other, but he was unconscious of it, for he 
 might have been a somnambulist from his manner of 
 his staring vacantly in front of him. He would have 
 passed without observing them had not Miss Peyton 
 called out : 
 
 " I say, Mr. Stryne, this will never do. You are 
 not awake. It comes from too little sleep. Miss 
 Whiting and I can not let you pass without good- 
 morning." 
 
 Immediately Paul stood uncovered and was greet- 
 ing both of them, but his eyes turned to Theodosia. 
 
 "You know, Miss Peyton, I am acquainted with 
 so few ladies that it never occurs to me to look at 
 them. I take it for granted that they are strangers." 
 
 Adele began : " We were so surprised to see you, 
 Mr. Stryne " 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Mr. Stryne. We are walking a 
 great deal now. The doctor ordered it." The so- 
 cialist seemed surprised. " Not exactly ordered it, 
 
 122 
 
STALKING THE LION 
 
 but he says it is very good for us, you know. Es- 
 pecially morning walks. So we came down south of 
 Market, for there are fewer hills, and then one learns 
 the geography of the town. So you live here, Mr. 
 Stryne? Strange we never saw you before." 
 
 " We meet now only because I over-slept. " 
 
 " It is so good to see you again," said Theodosia. 
 "And I hear such splendid things of you. Mr. 
 Walsingham and Mr. Pickens are quite champions 
 of yours. They say I converted them, but I tell 
 them you did it yourself. It is very trite but very 
 true that nothing succeeds like success. Isn't it, 
 Mr. Stryne?" 
 
 " Do you call this success, Miss Peyton ? I am 
 surprised. It is but the seed of success. We shall 
 have a harvest, perhaps, in the future." 
 
 " Tell me what you are going to be, Mr. Stryne. 
 I love secrets and I can keep them too. President, 
 dictator, or king ? Whichever it is, you must make 
 me prime minister, for I was the first to swear al- 
 legiance." 
 
 " I was not talking of myself, Miss Peyton, but of 
 conditions. There are to be improvements in our 
 laws." 
 
 "Is that all? It is stupid. I'm not willing to 
 be a milliner or dressmaker that all the poor peo- 
 ple may become rich unless you are to be dictator. 
 
 123 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 If you are I don't object. I should like to see some- 
 thing new in history, and I don't know any one who 
 could turn things topsy-turvy and make us all mind 
 more charmingly than you, but I must be Prime 
 Minister. Oh, it just occurs to me, Mr. Stryne. 
 You made me a promise when I last saw you. I'm 
 to have a little dinner for you and you are to come." 
 
 "I promised, Miss Peyton? You must be mis- 
 taken. I could not have forgotten." 
 
 " Oh, perhaps you are right, Mr. Stryne. But you 
 will come, will you not ? " 
 
 Adele walked on a few paces, and Theodosia and 
 the socialist were alone. 
 
 " Miss Peyton, we've met but twice before, and 
 you always come as a temptress. It is not fair of 
 you to take away my belief in myself. My place is 
 among men. There I am afraid of none of them, 
 but you seem to appear only to show me just how 
 weak I am." 
 
 " That is merely a preliminary to a refusal, which 
 must not be given, Mr. Stryne. Tell me frankly 
 you do not like me. " 
 
 The socialist looked at her. 
 
 " There are some pleasures I can not give myself 
 without being misunderstood by my supporters. We 
 are just entering upon a political campaign, our first. 
 
 What will my men say of my sincerity when they 
 
 124 
 
STALKING THE LION 
 
 hear I have been your guest ? What will you think 
 of it? Merely that I have my price, and it is your 
 favor. I grant, Miss Peyton, that if I am to become 
 negotiable, I choose that as the estimate of my value. 
 Still, much as I am grateful to you for your kindness 
 in twice thinking of me, I must again refuse. This 
 only makes me still more anxious to know you, but 
 we are two enemies who can not mess together." 
 
 "The world is not so horrid; your men have no 
 faith in you if they object to a simple little dinner 
 at my house. I am not a dreadful octopus ; I, too, am 
 a Strynite, and how can your followers oppose our 
 friendship ? " 
 
 " Nothing could be more womanly, more noble, 
 than your offer to me while I was in prison, but this 
 dinner my friends would not understand it." 
 
 " What would they say? " 
 
 "That you are posing, Miss Peyton, or that you 
 are capricious." 
 
 " Isn't that cruel and unjust of them, Mr. Stryne ? " 
 
 " Very. It would make no difference to you if I 
 accept your invitation. You have your friends, your 
 position to keep you from criticism, but I have no 
 fortune except myself. The success or failure of 
 our ticket and laws depends upon me. It is a great 
 trust of which I am the guardian and I dare not 
 compromise it." 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " I beg you, Mr. Stryne, do something that is not 
 correct and in a straight line. You are too good. 
 Please walk up the street crookedly. Please do not 
 do your duty. There is no fun in it. I did it once 
 when I went down to the jail to see you, and I never 
 will again. No one appreciated my effort at lofti- 
 ness not even you, who believe I am capricious." 
 
 Theodosia lowered her lids and her lips trembled. 
 On the edge of her dark lashes quivered a crystal 
 drop a tear. 
 
 " Miss Peyton, I can not endure this. When shall 
 I come ? " said Stryne, his face contracted with pain. 
 
 " To-morrow evening at seven. Remember there 
 must be no last-moment excuses." 
 
 " I have given my word, Miss Peyton." 
 
 126 
 
Chapter XII 
 THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 JDELE Whiting distributed her time among 
 the houses of the opulent and powerful of 
 San Francisco, but, all things being equal, 
 she preferred living at the Peytons'. That worldly 
 young person was not insensible to the fact that 
 theirs was the best kept menage in the city; besides 
 Theodosia was most congenial to her. 
 
 The evening of the Stryne dinner Miss Whiting, 
 as usual, was ready to assist Miss Peyton in receiv- 
 ing her guests. Adele's homage to her friend was 
 easily given. Theodosia did not demand it, but, 
 realizing it as her due, accepted it with the indiffer- 
 ence of an old friend. 
 
 Miss Peyton would have forced praise from a rival 
 in her girlish gown of shirred white tulle trimmed 
 with clusters of apple blossoms. She wore the same 
 flower in her hair and resembled a debutante more 
 than a belle of several seasons. 
 
 The frame of her body was fragile, but so well 
 covered with flesh that she seemed like a large wo- 
 man. The movement of her head displayed no cords 
 
 127 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 in her neck. Her arms had the roundness and dim- 
 ples of an infant, and the muscles were invisible. 
 Her lips were red like the soul of the grape. Her 
 eyes overflowed with life. The brilliancy of the 
 sheen of her mass of yellow hair held the glance. 
 She walked the entire length of the long room look- 
 ing at her train undulating behind her like white 
 foam, and then, turning to Adele, asked : 
 
 "Do I really look well to-night? Tell me the 
 truth." 
 
 " Beautiful, beautiful, my dear, and all the superla- 
 tives. Some one has come, and I am sure it is " 
 
 " Ruspoli, of course. Let him wait. Tell me 
 again, am I beautiful this evening? " 
 
 Another guest arrived at that instant, and the 
 Prince was deprived of the few moments he had 
 hoped to pass with his hostess. When he dined at 
 the Peytons* he was always in advance of the ap- 
 pointed hour. As he saluted his hostess, he said in 
 Italian : " Do you not think, Signorina, that, since 
 I've expressed to you so often the repugnance this 
 socialist, this Stryne, inspires in me, I'm very ami- 
 able to come to meet him, where of all places he 
 should not be under your roof." 
 
 " Au contraire, Prince, it is very good of me to ask 
 you, since you were so naughty about it." 
 
 " Being a lover and always thinking of myself, I 
 128 
 
THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 have another reason for grief, Signorina, tho I do not 
 believe I can bring myself to confess it." 
 
 "Very well, do not try." 
 
 "You are not curious, Signorina?" 
 
 " Not sufficiently to ask." 
 
 " It is this, Signorina. Pray, do not think me a 
 gamin. Heretofore, not that you meant to confer 
 an honor, I suppose, but merely because I was the 
 stranger, you were always kind enough to place me 
 at your right. You probably do not recollect, but 
 each time I sat by your side is burned into my 
 memory. This is the first occasion when I relin- 
 quish that post. How can I breathe, Signorina, and 
 see another there? I am a trifle difficile even in my 
 rivals. If it were Signer Armstrong, Signor Ogle- 
 thorpe, or any of your other friends, I should be 
 sufficiently pained, but I can not suffer that a man 
 take my place whom I could not meet on the field of 
 honor." 
 
 " The man whom I think worthy to sit by my side 
 is fit to meet you, Prince, even in a duel." 
 
 "Pardon," humbly replied Ruspoli; "on your ac- 
 count I would gladly meet Signor Stryne on whatever 
 field he might elect. " 
 
 " Prince, don't be such a fire-eater. Mr. Stryne 
 and I hvae more important persons to fight than you." 
 
 Armstrong and Oglethorpe arrived presently and 
 9 I2 9 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 paid their respects to Miss Peyton, while Ruspoli 
 conversed with Miss Traver. The Pickenses and 
 Walsinghams came immediately and there was no 
 one wanting but Stryne himself. It was a quarter 
 after seven, and as Theodosia saw the clock's hands, 
 she turned pale. Mr. Pickens, an apoplectic, stout, 
 thick- necked man, waddled across the room, and 
 bawled out : " Colonel, I knew Theodosia was up to 
 one of her pranks. It is a good joke on us, ain't it? 
 After that night when she stopped Stryne 's bonfire 
 and sent his beggars all flying down the hill, I be- 
 lieved she could do what would stump any of us men. 
 They never came back again. But I should have 
 known that this was a little too-too even for the girl. 
 We might as well eat and not wait for him any 
 longer. I suppose he is down on the sand- lot, howl- 
 ing against us and enjoying the joke." 
 
 John Pickens owned as much railway and mining 
 stock as any one in the city, yet his ideas of good 
 form in speech and manner were only nebulous. 
 
 "We shall wait for Mr. Stryne, Mr. Pickens. 
 Something has detained him," said Theodosia. " But 
 I am positive he will be here, for I have his word of 
 honor." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! little girl, you've got enough faith to 
 walk on the water with. But I know men and I'm 
 
 right this time." 
 
 130 
 
THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 Jessie Traver, long of chin and sallow of face, ap- 
 proached and suggested : " You mustn't be too hard 
 on the poor laboring man, Mr. Pickens. Perhaps he 
 has only one blue flannel shirt and he has to wait 
 until it is washed. Out of honor to the guest, don't 
 you think all you gentlemen should have worn colored 
 shirts with red bandanna handkerchiefs about your 
 necks? That is undoubtedly the sand-lot evening 
 dress. I put on this socialistic red satin gown to 
 please Mr. Stryne." 
 
 Mr. Pickens laughed until his neck grew crimson : 
 "That's bully, Jessie. You can say the devilish 
 mean things better than any one I know ; but, Lord, 
 I wouldn't want to marry you. You ain't rosy 
 enough, by rights, to have thorns on your tongue." 
 
 Adele Whiting whispered to the hostess : " Theo 
 dear, I'd rather he'd stay at home than come with 
 a red handkerchief around his neck, but don't mind." 
 
 " Of course, I'm not minding, Adele. Mr. Stryne 
 will be here, and not in a blue flannel shirt." 
 
 "I am afraid, Theo dear." 
 
 The butler announced Mr. Stryne and all ceased 
 speech except Ruspoli and Adele Whiting. 
 
 They continued conversation on topics that did 
 not interest them. When Miss Peyton shook hands 
 with Mr. Stryne, she included Mr. Pickens in her 
 glance. It bespoke victory, for the socialist wore a 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 well-fitting evening suit of European make and an 
 immaculate white shirt with a tucked bosom. His 
 garments were a part of him and he might have been 
 appearing in them each day of his life. 
 
 Evening clothes destroy or make a man, and Stryne, 
 somewhat paler and thinner than formerly,- was, next 
 to Ruspoli, the handsomest man in the room. 
 
 The Pickenses and Walsinghams were most cordial 
 to the socialist. Every one received him with ex- 
 cellently counterfeited friendship, except the Italian, 
 who was ultra-ceremonious. As his heels clicked, 
 there was so much stateliness in his bow that it was 
 mere satire. Stryne returned an exact imitation of 
 the Prince's greeting. They might have been reared 
 in the same school. 
 
 Jessie Traver remarked, as she saw the socialist, 
 " I am sure this will be deadly dull. I thought we 
 were going to have an experience, but Mr. Stryne is 
 just like one of us." 
 
 " Oh no, he is not," said Oglethorpe. " He is 
 only pretending." 
 
 When the party reached the dining-room, they 
 found apple blossoms everywhere, peering from most 
 unexpected spots. The damask itself was covered 
 with the pink and white petals. Bowls of the flowers 
 were scattered about on the round table, which was 
 
 lighted with cut-glass candelabra, decorated with pink 
 
 132 
 
THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 shades. Overhead was an umbrella of the branches, 
 and, as the guests were seated, from above floated 
 downward more of the flowers, as tho some one had 
 shaken a tree. The perfume of spring filled the air, 
 and Miss Peyton, her hair and shoulders covered 
 with the blossoms, was like a sprite of nature, her- 
 alding the fleeting season of bloom. 
 
 Ruspoli took in Jessie Traver, and found himself 
 seated at his hostess' left. As soon as the occasion 
 presented itself, he turned to her, and said: "I'm 
 very happy not to be quite exiled, and I thank you. 
 Your cruelty is only a caprice, for you might have 
 placed me across the way." 
 
 The board was too large for general conversation, 
 and, after the guests resolved themselves into con- 
 genial groups, Mr. Pickens called from his seat oppo- 
 site the socialist : " I suppose you know, Stryne, you 
 had us all nearly scared to death a few months ago. 
 We were loaded up with guns like forts. United 
 States is a great country. So broad-minded. Who 
 would have thought then that we should all be eating 
 with you to-night ? " 
 
 Walsingham, a big, lean, angular man, with an 
 eagle's face and Uncle Sam beard, who had lived 
 next door to his partner, Pickens, ever since they 
 started their small shop in Sacramento, and had 
 never lost an opportunity to gibe him good-naturedly, 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 added : " Pick was scared, Stryne. There is no 
 getting around that. His house was filled with guards 
 and guns. He was almost as afraid of the Win- 
 chesters as he was of you. Pickens would have ske- 
 daddled to Mexico with Belden, but he was afraid of 
 apoplexy." 
 
 " If only the Pickenses and Walsinghams could 
 learn not to talk shop," groaned Jessie Traver to 
 Ruspoli in an undertone. " I suppose their grand- 
 children will know better, but they themselves will 
 never understand." 
 
 Then it was necessary for Miss Traver to explain 
 to the Italian the meaning of the idiom "talk shop." 
 
 "How is your ticket going?" asked Pickens. 
 " Have you named all your men, Stryne ? " 
 
 " Mr. Stryne and I are not going to tell you a 
 word about it, Mr. Pickens. We are diplomats, 
 and if you ask us any questions we shall not answer 
 them. He will always speak the truth, but in case 
 military necessity demands us to tell lies, why, I 
 shall do so without the slightest hesitation, for Mr. 
 Stryne has promised that I'm to be Prime Minister 
 when our party comes into power. Besides, Mr. 
 Pickens, I don't think it a bit nice of you to come to 
 break bread with the leaders of the Working Men's 
 party and, while drinking our own wine, try to worm 
 our secrets out of us. " 
 
THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 Theodosia had saved the socialist from making 
 any remarks. 
 
 " I am glad to know these things, Miss Peyton," 
 answered Pickens. " Who is to handle the patronage ? 
 If you have charge of that I am going to court you." 
 
 " No one but merit is to give out offices in our 
 party, Mr. Pickens," answered Theodosia, with states- 
 manlike gravity. 
 
 " Pshaw ! That's all poppycock. You will never 
 win but once if you are going to carry out that 
 scheme. It is only your theory, Miss Peyton. I 
 understand human nature just a mite, and Stryne is 
 the practical politician of the firm. He knows life is 
 just brass tacks and there is no use in playing you 
 live in Utopia." 
 
 " My premier, Miss Peyton," said Stryne, bowing 
 to Theodosia and then addressing Pickens, "has 
 given you my exact sentiment. We think that we 
 are to make a revolution in politics in San Francisco 
 by using only the merit system in our nominations 
 and appointments in case we win. The sole ques- 
 tion we shall ask will be, 'Is the candidate honest ? 
 Is he competent ? ' We think, Mr. Pickens, that is 
 the only way to achieve permanent success. You 
 seem to leave out of consideration that after all it is 
 the people who vote. You can find newspapers to 
 voice your opinion, but it is the unwritten belief that 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 decides the contest. We are anxious to go before 
 them a second time with nothing to recommend us 
 but what we do. " 
 
 The railroad owner laid down his knife and fork 
 and placed his fists on the table as he spoke. 
 
 " Stryne, I don't mind telling you I like you. I 
 used to think you an infernal demagog, but I have 
 come to the conclusion you believe all that devilish 
 rot you spout. You have talked yourself into the 
 notion. Now I look at you as merely misguided, and 
 I think with proper schooling you might be all right. 
 We haven't got the slightest objection, Peyton, 
 Walsingham, and the rest of us people, to your being 
 the boss or manager of the State if you can be con- 
 verted of some of those ideas of yours. We've got 
 friends everywhere in power. The judges of the Su- 
 preme Court in particular always work in harmony 
 with us, and the smaller officials don't oppose our in- 
 terests. They are good men. The thing for you 
 to do is to give up this waving of red flag and 
 spouting on the sand- lot. It's all wrong, threatens 
 capital, gives us a bad reputation, and keeps up a 
 continuous muss. We have good tickets. Indorse 
 either the Republican or Democratic, it makes no 
 difference which. They are all our friends. Then 
 you can be our political manager for the rest of your 
 life. We want a smart young man like you." 
 
 136 
 
THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 " If we were at one of your dinners, Mr. Pickens, 
 you might take it that we were ready to sell our- 
 selves out," said Theodosia. " Your French cook 
 makes such a lovely mess of potage that I would sell 
 my birthright at the second course. But here you 
 might at least delay bribing us until coffee." 
 
 " I've known Theodosia here ever since she was a 
 day old, and I like her abuse, Stryne, because she's 
 so devilish clever in giving it and yet never means a 
 word of it." 
 
 " You quite overlook, I am sorry to say, Mr. Pick- 
 ens, that I am powerless in the matter," said the 
 socialist. " I am nothing myself but the spokesman 
 of forty thousand men. My strength lies in them. 
 They are certain I am honest. Every one of the 
 working men would trust me with his entire fortune. 
 I am proud of their friendship, their reliance. Their 
 loyalty is the finest thing that has come into my life. 
 I believe everything I say for them. I am one of 
 them, and would no sooner betray them than stab my 
 lieutenant. I could not endorse a man who at any 
 time has shown sympathy with capital or corporations. 
 I have always thought, Mr. Pickens, how singularly 
 blind you men who control the fortunes of California 
 are, that you are not content with decreased revenue 
 and the satisfaction of the people." 
 
 "You are under thirty, I take it, Stryne. I don't 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 know exactly how to make you out. You ought long 
 ago to have done with mental measles and chicken- 
 pox. Some time you will be ashamed of yourself for 
 all that tommyrot about the people. When I was 
 nineteen or twenty I think I believed in them. 
 Don't have any delusions. A laboring man is just 
 like you and me, except we have some intelligence 
 and he is weak-minded. Give him five dollars a day 
 and he wants ten. He never will be satisfied any 
 more than I will. The richer he gets, the more 
 exacting and unreasonable he becomes. He has all 
 the obstinacy and wrong-headedness of dull ignor- 
 ance. He is the despair of the optimist. Besides 
 he won't bathe, and until he does there is no hope for 
 him. A man don't progress until he is clean." 
 
 "Wouldn't it be just as well to give the poor fel- 
 low a meal before you bathe him ? " asked Theo- 
 dosia. 
 
 " No, bathe on an empty stomach always. Then 
 you won't have indigestion. I know, for I haven't 
 eaten a complete meal in twenty years." 
 
 " Of course, Mr. Pickens I can not agee with you. 
 If I did I should not be the so-called leader of the 
 Working Men's party." 
 
 " It is useless for the Strynites and the Nob Hill 
 People to argue, Mr. Pickens," said Theodosia. 
 
 " You make all these statements about laborers, but 
 
 138 
 
THE DINNER TO STRYNE 
 
 why don't you give them a chance to show the good 
 there is in them, by discharging Chinamen, raising 
 wages, and giving the unemployed positions ? " 
 
 " Because if we did that, there would be nothing 
 for any of us, including Miss Anarchist-in-a-Palace 
 but I want to talk to Stryne of his reforms. You 
 can't do anything for a lot of beasts of burden, my 
 boy, but drive them. Within a month after election, 
 if you don't give them all champagne and terrapin, 
 they crucify you just as sure as their brows are low 
 and dull. Cut it all while you've got a chance and 
 stick by us. We have come to stay just as long as 
 gold has value." 
 
 " I don't agree with you again, Mr. Pickens, in the 
 great difference between the employee and the em- 
 ployer. They are both in ruts, but in nine cases out 
 of ten had the rich man been given the same envi- 
 ronment as the poor he would not have thrown the 
 pack off his back. There are granite men who fight 
 their way out of any hole to eminence in finance, but 
 more often it is chance. Success develops the mind, 
 and most laborers, unless I am greatly mistaken, 
 with the right start and influence, could do as well as 
 the capitalists." 
 
 By this time the men were alone smoking, and the 
 argument continued. Within half an hour after they 
 returned to the ladies, Stryne arose to leave. Theo- 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 dosia, accompanying him to the door of the drawing 
 room, requested : " Will you not return in thirty 
 minutes? There are some questions I should like to 
 ask you." 
 
 " It will be a pleasure for me to answer them, Miss 
 Peyton." 
 
 140 
 
Chapter XIII 
 THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 |HE other guests departed soon after Stryne, 
 and Mr. Pickens assured his hostess that 
 he was confident the socialist could be 
 " brought round to the right way of thinking." " I 
 am glad to see you cultivate him, Theo, " he said. 
 " Show him a little society and that will fix him. I 
 wish you was my girl. Between us I am sure we 
 would win him over and run the State. " Mr. Pickens 
 was jubilant and red with self-satisfaction. 
 
 " You know very well, Mr. Pickens, that he has 
 converted me." 
 
 " Let him think so, Theodosia. It is just as well. 
 Good night. You've got a pretty smart girl, Pey- 
 ton." 
 
 The Walsinghams declared that Stryne was not 
 half bad. Ruspoli was the last to take Miss Pey- 
 ton's hand in farewell. 
 
 " I feel profoundly honored by the fact, Signorina, 
 that you, the future Prime Minister of the Working 
 Man's party, addressed two words to me this evening. 
 
 When President Stryne rules in America, he will re- 
 
 141 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 quire a valet or butler. Will Signorina, the Prime 
 Minister, recommend me to the great man's favor? " 
 
 Pierced by the bitterness of the Italian, Theodosia 
 cast her head backward and held her chin high as she 
 answered in the same key, " Signorina, the future 
 Prime Minister, will do nothing of the sort ; for all of 
 her influence could not cause Mr. Stryne to see in 
 Prince Ruspoli a man fit either to be his valet or his 
 butler." 
 
 The Italian's eyelids came together like a flash of 
 lightning. He dropped her hand and Theodosia saw 
 rage before her as she had never yet encountered it. 
 She realized that if she had been a man he would 
 have struck her, and at that moment as she heard 
 him exclaim, " Signorina, I demand, I command an 
 apology for this affront/' she wondered if her strength 
 could much longer hold out against his. He awaited 
 no answer from her, and only the presence of the 
 guests kept her from flinging herself into his arms. 
 
 "What if he knew that! " thought she in terror. 
 The Italian walked several times around the block 
 unable to leave the spot where the object of his 
 wrath and love dwelt. At half after ten, in ascending 
 the hill, he saw Stryne pass up the steps of Colonel 
 Peyton's house and enter without delay. 
 
 Theodosia met the socialist in the hall, and led 
 
 him into a small white-and-gold reception room. 
 
 142 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 They were seated opposite each other somewhat 
 nervous at meeting at such an unusual hour. Miss 
 Peyton began : " For a person who is as a rule abnor- 
 mally normal I find myself doing the queerest things, 
 Mr. Stryne, and it is your fault. You are such an 
 extraordinary man." 
 
 " People who are natural or sincere, Miss Peyton, 
 are always considered a little odd." 
 
 " Why do you think I asked you to come back this 
 evening, Mr. Stryne? " 
 
 "I have no idea, unless it was curiosity." 
 
 " No. It was interest in you and your life and 
 your ideas. What did you think of the people to- 
 night?" 
 
 "I haven't considered them, Miss Peyton." 
 
 "I hope, Mr. Stryne, you will allow what Mr. 
 Pickens said to make no impression on you. Do not 
 be influenced by him." 
 
 The socialist laughed. "Did you imagine there 
 was anything new in what he said, Miss Peyton? 
 Those arguments are as old as the pyramids. It is 
 useless to answer them." 
 
 "I'm happy you are so strong, Mr. Stryne. I'm 
 proud of you. What a wretch Mr. Pickens is ! My 
 father is a gentleman, but Pickens is a horrid carica- 
 ture of capital a bad man." 
 
 " Not a bad man, Miss Peyton, merely selfish, one- 
 H3 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND, THE PRINCE 
 
 sided, uncultivated, the victim of his environment, 
 a laborer in finance. " 
 
 "I'm glad you are broad-minded enough to say 
 that." Theodosia leaned forward, her elbows on her 
 knees, holding her head upright : " Tell me, as you 
 would answer your conscience, are you sincere, Mr. 
 Stryne?" 
 
 He hesitated, closed his eyes in thought. Then 
 his mouth formed into a straight line. " The first 
 time I ever saw you, Miss Peyton, I could have an- 
 swered with certainty. No man could accomplish 
 what I have unless sincere. I was sincere. Now I 
 tell you candidly, sometimes I do not know. I am 
 like a Christian who begins to doubt, and it hurts 
 me." 
 
 "Then Mr. Pickens influenced you." 
 
 " No. You." 
 
 "I? Why, I am a Strynite." 
 
 " Oh, yes. In theory. You live in luxury, and 
 find it interesting to say that, but in reality every 
 feature of your face, every curve to your frame, de- 
 mands voluptuous ease." 
 
 " Why should that alter your opinion ? " asked 
 Theodosia. 
 
 " You make me imagine I really want what you 
 have. You cause me to be discontented. You com- 
 pel me to value what you like. Ever since I saw 
 
 144 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 you, Miss Peyton, I have been at times a hypocrite 
 and it stung like a first sin. I have stood before my 
 men, reiterating my old belief, while your face arose 
 before me telling me I was insincere. I was a war- 
 rior with my right arm wounded. I have grown to 
 fear you, Miss Peyton. I should have continued to 
 refuse to know you, for you have weakened my con- 
 fidence in myself. When I look at you, the highest 
 possible product of civilization of the ninetenth cen- 
 tury, and the luxury by which you are surrounded, 
 you and it are what I desire. Is it strange that I 
 doubt myself, and at times execrate all that keeps me 
 from you? " 
 
 It was too soon. Theodosia preferred Stryne as a 
 hero. Nevertheless, her eyes much softened, ex- 
 tending her hand, she said to him, " But I believe in 
 you so absolutely, Mr. Stryne. You must have faith 
 in yourself." 
 
 "That is my only recompense, Miss Peyton. I 
 feel, since I have become weaker, I am dependent 
 upon your faith. Good God, to rely upon a woman ! 
 Isn't it pitiful ? No, I will not. I must have my 
 own power. You must give it back to me, Miss 
 Peyton. Promise that you will never speak to me 
 when we meet again. I have the force not to seek 
 you, but I can not refuse when you ask me to come. 
 
 Observe me, the coward, begging temptation to flee. 
 10 14$ 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 This was the end I dreaded and feared. If ever man 
 was iron, if ever man was rock, it was I. Oh, the 
 quicksilver of sex ! " 
 
 " You are morbid, Mr. Stryne; I can not make that 
 promise, for we are going to be friends." 
 
 " Friends ! how ludicrous ! Make no mistake, Miss 
 Peyton. You can inspire any other emotion but that. 
 No, we are going to be enemies. I shall give you 
 back your belief in me and be myself." 
 
 Stryne moved his chair more closely to Theodosia 
 and then gravely asked, his features set with grim 
 determination, " Did it ever occur to you as strange 
 that you know nothing of me? " 
 
 "Why, I do know you." Theodosia was startled. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you know a man Paul Stryne, at this 
 moment the leader of the Working Men in San Fran- 
 cisco, but you have no knowledge of me. " 
 
 " That is true. Who are you ? " 
 
 " God knows. I've asked him of ten enough to tell 
 me. I've stared in the faces of men and women of 
 two continents begging, 'Are you my father? are you 
 my mother ? ' For years every hour I have studied 
 race characteristics. I said to myself, 'Does that be- 
 long to the Saxon or the Latin ? ' I have lived in so 
 many lands that I have a few of the marks of each 
 nation, but no complete development. I am still a 
 
 mystery to myself." 
 
 146 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 Theodosia leaned back in her chair and pondered. 
 Then she started and said : 
 
 "Your name, Paul Stryne, that should convey 
 something to you." 
 
 "That is not my name." 
 
 Theodosia was a wax figure of astonishment. 
 Her chair moved a bit from Stryne. 
 
 "What is, then?" 
 
 " I can not say." 
 
 " Where did you get it?" 
 
 " I stole it, Miss Peyton." 
 
 Smiles left the features of Theodosia, and alarm 
 parted her lips. " But you know the beginning of 
 your life, your childhood? " 
 
 "Yes, my childhood. As you understand it, I 
 had none; but, Miss Peyton, I will tell you about it. 
 It is not a nice story, and will place us far apart. 
 
 " My earliest recollection is of going with a heavy, 
 sunbrowned woman from house to house and pleading 
 for food. Think of the handicap of a soul scarred 
 with beggary. I called this woman mother in our 
 tongue, the language of the Gipsies. There were half 
 a dozen children of us, my brothers and sisters. Two 
 or three men smoked all day in the tents and I did 
 not know which was my father. 
 
 " We never stopped long in one place, but my first 
 memory recalls thickly settled New England. I will 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 pass over the hideousness and brutality of that daily 
 life and tell you how I came to leave it, for I became 
 ashamed of it, and I awoke. We were encamped 
 near a suburb of New York, and Sunday I strolled into 
 the village. Perhaps I was eleven or twelve, for I 
 do not know my age. I caught a glimpse of a girl 
 larger and older than myself with thick yellow curls 
 about her shoulders. I have never seen any like 
 them until that night you opened the door and stood 
 before me. She was with a servant, I fancy, and 
 going to church. I had never entered a house of 
 worship, but I followed her and was detained by the 
 usher in the back seat. The service was quite 
 strange to me and all I recollect was the movement 
 of the yellow curls far down in front. 
 
 " I waited until she came out and walked behind 
 her to her home, a great big brick mansion in a 
 square of trees and shrubbery. I had never realized 
 before that there was anything particularly wrong 
 with myself. I looked in a shop window and saw re- 
 flected my shaggy rough hair, my dirty face, and my 
 bare feet. 
 
 " Then I went straight to the river bank and 
 washed my body clean and lay in the sun until I was 
 dry. I had commenced to think about myself, and 
 that, I take it, is the beginning of improvement. 
 
 Upon returning to the camp I compared my own 
 
 148 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 features with those of my companions. The other 
 children of the camp might have been born of my 
 mother, but I realized with a flash that I was not her 
 child. No man there could possibly have been my 
 father. I told them so, and they, caring only for the 
 pittance I could beg for them, were too indifferent to 
 deny it. I ran away." 
 
 Theodosia was coldly interested. "Mr. Stryne, 
 where did you go ? " 
 
 " I walked for three days to Trenton, New Jersey, 
 and begged my food on the way. When I knew I 
 was beyond the reach of the camp I found work with 
 a doctor, Paul Hamilton. He allowed me to read 
 when I had leisure and in a short time I devoured 
 and digested many good and bad books. At last I 
 came upon the life of Napoleon Bonaparte, and it 
 was the only volume which ever kept me awake all 
 night. I read it, feeling it beyond credence. When 
 morning came, I crept into Dr. Hamilton's office, 
 and asked, 'Is it all true?* 'Yes,' he answered. 
 'Every word?' 'Of course.' 'I'm so glad,' said I. 
 'I was afraid it was a novel.' After that I read more 
 lives of Napoleon and became familiar with every- 
 thing that history tells. I even pinched my compan- 
 ions' ears as he did. 
 
 " Once I was playing with some boys of my own 
 
 size, and we found a vine bearing scarlet and gold 
 
 149 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 leaves. I made a crown of them, placed it on my 
 head, and named myself Emperor of the French. 
 The following day my brow was swollen with a band 
 of red flesh. The physician said that the leaves of 
 which I wove the crown were poisonous. I became 
 ill from fever and tore off the scarf of skin. That left 
 the scar on my brow, the first that ambition gave me." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " exclaimed Theodosia, genuinely 
 moved. 
 
 " During my sickness they told me I called ' St. 
 Helena.' 'To St. Helena.' When I recovered it 
 was as if the delirium continued, for the word St. 
 Helena sounded in my ears from dawn till dusk. I 
 was determined to go there, and I left a message with 
 my employer, ' I have started for St. Helena.' 
 
 "On my way down the streets of Trenton, I 
 thought of a name for myself. At first I considered 
 Paul Hamilton, that of my employer. Presently I 
 saw the name Stryne on a door-plate. It pleased me, 
 for, like myself, it expressed nothing. I became 
 Paul Stryne. Why not ? I must have a beginning. 
 God did not give me any, and was it my fault that I 
 made one for myself ? " 
 
 " Of course there is no reason why you should 
 not bear any name you wish," answered Theodosia; 
 " but it is so strange actually to know some one who 
 has no family, no name, no tradition, nothing." 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 11 1 am glad of it, Miss Peyton. My existence has 
 been all my own," retorted he with an outburst of 
 determination. 
 
 " Tell me, then what did you do ? " 
 
 " My name, Paul Stryne, gave me manhood. I had 
 a foundation. I did not beg; I worked, until at last 
 I reached New York. The first thing I went down 
 to where the ships docked. I wandered along the 
 great wharves. 
 
 " Finally a sea-captain said to me, * Well, my man, 
 where are you bound for ? ' 'St. Helena,' I an- 
 swered. He did not smile. At first I thought it a 
 part of my fever when he replied, 'Come with us, 
 then, we pass St. Helena. ' Extraordinary as it may 
 seem, no one directed me to that particular sailing 
 vessel. The next day we left New York. There is 
 nothing to tell about the voyage except that I read 
 and stole." 
 
 " Stole, Mr. Stryne ! How horrible ! " 
 
 " Yes, I read all the books there were to be had, 
 and I stole everything each man knew. I recall a 
 hundred childish devices for making the officers talk. 
 I felt that I had been robbed of schooling, and an 
 honest foundation, and so I must not rest until I 
 squeezed dry the brains of all the men. This pirat- 
 ing of others' ideas, manners, and experiences began 
 on that ship and lasted the entire voyage. It is 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 characteristic of my life. I have stolen everything 
 which came within the grasp of my mind. I claim 
 the right, for I was robbed of a beginning. 
 
 " We barely touched at St. Helena, but I wept at 
 the sight of Longwood. I arrived in Liverpool, a 
 strange country, with a new name, a new life before 
 me. My policy was to do as little work as I could 
 and read as much as possible. I asked nothing 
 but my board and clothes. Then I studied and waited 
 for what I could not have told you. I was un- 
 aware that I was industriously preparing for this 
 movement in San Francisco, but I had a premoni- 
 tion that one day I should give out all that I was 
 stowing away. 
 
 " I do not recollect anything that I disdained to 
 learn, a little music, enough dancing, something about 
 art, fencing, and shooting. I idled from one country 
 to another, studying the people, the languages, the 
 history, one day living with socialists, the next I was 
 the servant of a potentate." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Stryne, do not tell me that you were 
 actually a servant," exclaimed she, making a grimace 
 of repugnance. 
 
 "Often, Miss Peyton. What better method is 
 there of learning the intelligence, the manner, and 
 secrets of the great ? To the observing it is an edu- 
 cation/' 
 
 152 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 " But it is not nice, it is not respectable." 
 " Recollect, I did not start to tell you a nice 
 story, nor a respectable story, but a true story. I 
 have spared you and myself many of the details. At 
 best mine is but a life built upon dregs and decay. 
 I had a certain number of years allotted me, and I 
 was already late in the race. Should I lose or should 
 I make short cuts ? I made short cuts, for I had as 
 much right to win as any one. Yet I was not insin- 
 cere. I believed every principle I expounded be- 
 cause I knew it was right. I have met my kind in 
 all climes and we are all alike. Other men take 
 their thoughts from their beliefs, but we believe be- 
 cause we think, and thought with free action is 
 democracy; with fettered power, it is anarchy. 
 After I met you, Miss Peyton, the river was turned a 
 little from its course, and sometimes I wondered if I 
 uttered my doctrines because they pay, because from 
 them and by them I am to build my life and future. 
 Your cold eyes, your frozen features, tell me I was in 
 error. Now the waters are back once more, flowing 
 straight to their destination with a fury. I believe! 
 I believe again ! I believe every word I said." 
 
 The man's face was quite pale as he walked up and 
 down the drawing-room, the red scars standing out 
 like a blister. Theodosia, motionless in her chair, 
 sat watching him as if he were a strange beast. 
 
 J53 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " You are unnecessarily emphatic about it, Mr. 
 Stryne. No one has contradicted you." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss Peyton, but you did." 
 
 "When? How?" 
 
 " When you appeared in the doorway the first night 
 I saw you, showing me the startling contrast between 
 my life and yours. When you came to the prison 
 with your jewels and bonds. When you met me in 
 your fresh young beauty on the street. When I saw 
 you here in your home to-night. What is it you are 
 always saying to me ? That I don't believe my own 
 words, that you are more precious than they. Let 
 me assure you, I believe. I was never so confident 
 of myself as at this moment. You and I were never 
 so far apart as now." 
 
 Theodosia arose, looked at Stryne's agitated, quiv- 
 ering face. She was thrust from him by a thousand 
 invisible forces. Yet as if duty forced her, she 
 asked : 
 
 " Have I done anything wrong ? I don't feel 
 quite happy about it all." 
 
 " No, Miss Peyton. You have been most kind." 
 
 Stryne started to go out into the hall. Theodosia 
 seemed to think aloud : " It is so strange to learn all 
 this, Mr. Stryne. You were good to tell me, but I 
 wish you had not, I was positive you are a gentle- 
 
THE VALET OF A GENTLEMAN 
 
 His story produced the effect he intended, and yet 
 it hurt him to see her so cramped and limited by preju- 
 dice. His success was too complete. It would have 
 comforted him somewhat had she felt a little sym- 
 pathy instead of mere disenchantment. 
 
 " No, only the valet of a gentleman," he answered. 
 " You and I alone have knowledge of my entire life, 
 Miss Peyton." 
 
 " And we shall continue to have, also. I can not 
 express to you, Mr. Stryne, how much success you 
 deserve," said she coldly, but still making a pretense 
 of cordiality. 
 
 Stryne read from her unnatural manner that this 
 was their farewell, and she wished him gone. It 
 gave him courage to reply determinedly : 
 
 " I merit none, I am afraid, but I will have a great 
 deal." 
 
 As he left the Peyton residence and swung open 
 the heavy iron gate, Ruspoli met him and said : 
 
 " Buona sera y Signore" 
 
 Stryne saluted without response. 
 
Chapter XIV 
 STRYNE'S DICTATORSHIP 
 
 gTRYNE had accurately estimated Miss Pey- 
 ton's temperament. His confession dis- 
 sipated her interest in him. She was 
 somewhat shocked at her own mercurial temperament 
 which could so quickly cease to consider the man 
 whose mind had interested her more than any other's. 
 Theodosia was positive, as she gladly saw the 
 door close upon the socialist, that her shallow emo- 
 tions approached heartlessness. She did not desire 
 to be selfish, but she feared she was, for from her in- 
 fancy the world had done its best to spoil her. 
 
 Colonel Peyton's daughter knew that, while she 
 might be without heart, she possessed a sense of 
 humor. By the time she reached her room, she felt 
 she had been the victim of a joke. She laughed heart- 
 ily at herself because with all her cleverness she had 
 not detected the waif, the nobody, the Gipsy, and ad- 
 venturer underneath stolen dignity. 
 
 Now that she considered it, of course no masquer- 
 ading gentleman would don a red handkerchief, a 
 scarlet-lined cape, and a huge felt hat. 
 
 156 
 
STRYNE'S DICTATORSHIP 
 
 What would Ruspoli say? She saw his eyes 
 gleaming with repressed triumph. She could hear 
 Adele and Percy Oglethorpe laughing. Jessie 
 Traver would be so maliciously witty about it that it 
 would pay for her dinners during several seasons. It 
 was really funny and she should have known better, 
 but she charged it to the account of experience. 
 
 Theodosia was slightly contemptuous of Stryne. 
 Struggling in the fetters of her dead mother's mind, 
 she made the declaration to herself that she did not 
 like a man unless he was a gentleman. Then she 
 realized that, no matter how dull Percy Oglethorpe 
 was and despite Ruspoli 's indolent indifference to 
 the great purposes of life, they were more her equals 
 than Stryne. 
 
 " I should be above all this," she said. " No doubt 
 Mr. Stryne deserves some credit because he made 
 his way quite unassisted, but I'm just a common- 
 place woman after all, pretending to be better than 
 the others. I am a snob, and I can not help it. I 
 never want to see him again." 
 
 Immediately she thought, without even mention- 
 ing Ruspoli 's name to herself, "How handsome he 
 was. At that moment of his indignation he was a 
 prince. I should not like to see him often like that." 
 Then she wrote him a note of apology in Italian and 
 an invitation to ride with her the following morning. 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 At eight o'clock the next day a messenger with a 
 huge bouquet of orchids awoke her. Concealed in 
 them was a note which closed with, " You have 
 brought me back from death." When he arrived, 
 his haggard face showed her that he had not exagger- 
 ated. His voice broke in the greeting, and then he 
 remained silent until they reached the park, when he 
 discussed the general topics of society. Neither of 
 them ever again referred to their first quarrel. 
 
 During the remaining weeks the Stryne movement 
 developed each day. Country papers of both per- 
 suasions openly advocated the Working Men's party 
 as the deliverer of the State. The city journals 
 were non-committal and thereby revealed the strength 
 of the new organization. All of Stryne's speeches 
 were carefully reported. There was too much talk 
 of him in clubs, saloons, lodges, on the ferry-boats, 
 trains, and street cars for them to offend so large a 
 body of men. 
 
 The New York papers and periodicals devoted 
 pages to his characteristics, daily life, and the 
 " sand- lot " meetings. The London Times sent one 
 of its best writers to San Francisco, and he amazed 
 England with his account of Strynism in California. 
 The encyclopedias gave the agitator several columns 
 of space. 
 
 From the Atlantic to the Pacific there was a con- 
 
 158 
 
STRYNE'S DICTATORSHIP 
 
 viction that California for many years to come would 
 bow to the will of Paul Stryne. He seemed to think 
 only of the immediate present and the result of the 
 elections in the fall. Theodosia Peyton was in the 
 gallery of his brain merely a blurred faded negative. 
 
 Four hours' sleep from campaigning sufficed the 
 metallic force of the man. Many of the writers 
 feared he would collapse before the nominations took 
 place, but those who looked at his square chin, shoul- 
 ders, and neck knew that he was a Titan of iron. 
 To be sure he gave out daily a complete life's energy, 
 but there was undiscovered, untouched power always 
 in reserve for the day of need. 
 
 One could feel and breathe his success in walking 
 down the street. None was so blindly prejudiced as 
 to doubt it. Even those who hoped his triumph was 
 not to be were positive of it. The worship of his 
 followers was at white heat. His words had flamed 
 from his lips, igniting them all, and they pointed to 
 the red scar on his brow as the symbol of victory. It 
 was a sign from heaven. 
 
 Theodosia was kinder to Ruspoli, and in conse- 
 quence of his happiness he did not mention that he 
 saw the agitator enter and leave her house the even- 
 ing of the dinner. Colonel Peyton asked his daugh- 
 ter why she abandoned her fad for socialism and 
 Stryne. 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Don't talk to me about it, dearest old boy. We 
 always loathe our passions after they are exhausted." 
 
 The lawyer took several of the girl's curls in his 
 hand and said, " Theodosia, a woman with hair like 
 that should never make a vow, for she will break it." 
 
 It is only when the results of election are foregone 
 conclusions that nominations are so hotly sought as 
 in this campaign of Stryne's. In his hands lay the 
 responsibility of naming the State and city officials. 
 Even the choice of United States Senator was to be 
 fixed by him. Throughout these weeks his quiet, 
 his calm, his dignity, his poise, bore an excellent like- 
 ness to greatness. The scar shone like a crown, for 
 Stryne knew how to rule. 
 
 During this period he refused invitations from all 
 houses in San Francisco that one would care to enter. 
 Those who had no needs themselves, desired some- 
 thing for their friends. Perhaps it was a judgeship 
 for a lawyer. It might be an ambitious mother 
 bringing her first-born to the feet of Stryne and 
 dedicating him seriously with tears and prayers to 
 the service of his country as a statesman. Aspirants 
 for the mayoralty, governorship, and Supreme Court 
 came supplicating, commanding, or threatening, ac- 
 cording to expediency. Then there were the great, 
 far-reaching corporations with tentacles on every 
 
 nugget and jewel in California. They came using 
 
 1 60 
 
STXYNE'S DICTATORSHIP 
 
 diplomacy and endeavored to persuade Stryne that it 
 was for the good of the commonwealth, the best in- 
 terests of the State, and his own complete happiness, 
 that every position to be given out should be handed 
 over to them. 
 
 Stryne listened to the Walsinghams as politely 
 as to the McCanns. His face was quite impassive, 
 and his deep-set gray eyes stared into the secret 
 caverns of their brains. He received opinions, asked 
 questions about their principles, affiliations; then 
 answered that nothing as yet was decided, and dis- 
 missed them. Undoubtedly he was a most irritating 
 person to control. 
 
 The chief of the Working Men's party assumed 
 somewhat the attitude of a general planning a cam- 
 paign with wooden soldiers. Often an imposing 
 cavalryman, because of a blemish, was swept off the 
 board, utterly regardless of his pride. An obscure, 
 unknown private was raised to command because his 
 manner and his character pleased Stryne. Then 
 when it seemed that all was arranged satisfactorily, 
 the leader brushed them to the floor and set them up 
 again according to his will. 
 
 Diogenes had difficulty in finding one honest man. 
 Frequently Stryne groaned in his sleep at the thought 
 that he must fill the offices of the city and State with 
 
 them. Where were the Diogenes of the nineteenth 
 ii 161 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRIXCE 
 
 century to seek them? As he was opposing every 
 powerful interest, it was necessary that he make 
 no mistake. He could not afford the extravagance. 
 
 At last the word came to him like the whisper of 
 inspiration Youth ! Youth ! No gray hairs shamed 
 by compromise with evil, wise with the world's wis- 
 dom and calloused by dead hopes should mar his suc- 
 cess. No, he would choose Youth, aflame with en- 
 thusiasm, Youth bold from ignorance, Youth honest 
 from quickening ideals, Youth daring from ambition. 
 The sap of Youth should be injected into the decay- 
 ing politics of the State and revive them. 
 
 So the word went out to the unknown, the obscure, 
 that there were great prizes for them, and all Stryne 
 demanded was that they be honest. The day of the 
 convention drew near and the prophets found neither 
 in the sky nor on the wall handwriting telling of 
 the man to be chosen. No one but Stryne knew, 
 and he was mute. It was an exciting conundrum. 
 
 The solution of the puzzle occupied most active 
 minds in the city, and the day before the nominations 
 even Colonel Peyton's household was interested 
 therein. For a time Stryne had been merely an im- 
 postor, an adventurer to Theodosia. She felt that 
 he had no business to endeavor to act like a gentle- 
 man. Presently this feeling faded into utter indiffer- 
 ence. She took up amusement and he passed into 
 
 162 
 
STXYNE'S DICTATORSHIP 
 
 oblivion. When the great wave of his popularity 
 swept over the State, she suddenly recollected that 
 she had known him. She despised herself as she men- 
 tioned the fact with a certain degree of pride to some 
 visitors who inquired concerning him. 
 
 Once, while driving, she passed the sand-lot, and 
 saw him, a bronze figure of power, enthralling thou- 
 sands, and she was surprised that she still admired 
 him. During this separation she had imagined that 
 if she were again to see him, he would resemble 
 nothing but a mountebank; yet, in spite of all she 
 knew of his past, he looked like a gentleman. What 
 a pity that he was not ! 
 
 The great day neared and the city and State were 
 prostrate before the socialist. With pleasure Theo- 
 dosia recalled his words to her. She felt that this 
 vast multitude was kneeling before her, for she might 
 have made him love her had she chosen. At last 
 she admitted that she could not separate Stryne's 
 power from him, any more than a man can dis- 
 tinguish between a woman's beauty and her soul. 
 He was no longer an adventurer. He had become 
 as great as the might which the people accorded 
 him. 
 
 The day before the nomination, Theodosia dis- 
 cussed with some friends and her father the probable 
 results of the meeting of the delegates. 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " I have never seen a convention. I think I shall 
 go to the Working Men's to-morrow/' said she. 
 
 " I fancied you were tired of socialism, Theo- 
 dosia," remarked Colonel Peyton. 
 
 " Miss Peyton, I rather imagine you had chucked 
 Stryne," said Oglethorpe. 
 
 " I am merely interested in the political conven- 
 tion, " answered Theodosia. 
 
 " Stryne is the convention," suggested Adele. 
 
 " Do you think it possible, Signorina," asked Rus- 
 poli, "for a lady to be interested in a principle? Is 
 that not generally another name for a person ? " 
 
 " You understand Italian women, mon Prince, but 
 nbt Americans. I do not see why you should all be 
 so distressed about my getting out of my little rut 
 for a few hours. I am going to the convention." 
 
 " With whom ? " asked Adele. 
 
 " Daddy Peyton ! " was the answer. 
 
 " No, Theodosia, it would hardly be consistent for 
 me to attend." 
 
 " Then I shall take you Adele, and Percy, and 
 Prince Ruspoli." 
 
 164 
 
Chapter XV 
 THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION 
 
 (HE delegates of the Working Men's party 
 assembled in the old California Theater, 
 and the nomination of the greatest impor- 
 tance to be made was that of Governor of the State. 
 One half of those present toiled with their hands. 
 The other, professional men, ambitious politically, 
 merely came into the party because they were confi- 
 dent it would be successful. 
 
 The representatives of the Working Men with 
 whom Stryne determined to reform the political and 
 public morals of California were neither more honest 
 nor more intelligent than those occupying like posi- 
 tions generally are. It was among the young men 
 that the hopes of the leader lay. 
 
 The theater was packed with a mass of grim-look- 
 ing delegates, bearing banners showing the counties 
 represented. In the half daylight they were not 
 pleasant to look upon. A few women were seated in 
 the first balcony, their, gay garments varying the 
 gloom of black coats. In the upper right-hand box 
 
 were Miss Peyton and her guests. The other loges 
 
 165 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 were filled with friends of the heads of the Working 
 Men's party. On the stage were men about to make 
 speeches. Yet no one cared to see them. There 
 was a stretching of necks to select Stryne from 
 among them, and several men were designated, but 
 his friends knew that he had not yet arrived. There 
 was no delay, and at half after ten the convention 
 was called to order by the Chairman. 
 
 Theodosia's eyes were glassy from excitement over 
 the novelty of the experience, and even Adele 
 Whiting was interested. She had tired of most forms 
 of entertainment. Theodosia wore a silver-gray 
 cloth gown and a large hat with plumes falling away 
 from the front backward. It was the style that 
 suited her and she realized it. She had as a cor- 
 sage bouquet a huge bunch of violets given her that 
 morning by Ruspoli. They were the only flowers 
 she wore during 'the day. 
 
 Adele Whiting said : " It is strange Mr. Stryne 
 is not here. Why, I expected to see him in the cen- 
 ter of the stage." 
 
 " Not at all," answered Percy Oglethorpe, who was 
 making a study of politics in the United States. 
 "We can now observe an illustration of the free 
 choice and will of the people uncontrolled by 
 ' bosses. ' Stryne is not here, Miss Whiting, because 
 
 it is more artistic to be absent." 
 
 166 
 
THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION 
 
 "For my part," remarked Theodosia, " I do not 
 see how Mr. Stryne can control the convention unless 
 he is present." 
 
 " He will be absent, nevertheless, Miss Peyton, 
 and nothing will occur against his will. " 
 
 The reading of the platform was heard with the in- 
 difference which attends platforms both before and 
 after election. Other routine work was accomplished 
 in the same perfunctory manner. All were waiting 
 the first nominations. The hour arrived for placing 
 names before the delegates. Still the opinion of the 
 convention was not crystallized as to the possible 
 candidate. Still Stryne was absent. 
 
 Los Angeles, in language bedecked with garlands 
 of the Southland, presented the name of Everett, who 
 was destined from the cradle to rule the State. The 
 candidate was received with violent enthusiasm and he 
 doubted not that he would be the choice of the party. 
 
 Johnston, of Sonoma, was placed before the dele- 
 gates by one of his admirers, positive that his aspi- 
 rant was the man representing the principles of 
 Strynism. Johnston had been advocating them for 
 years and could best carry out the reforms of their 
 leader. This nominee was more warmly welcomed 
 than the Los Angeles man. Yet even Theodosia 
 realized that the right note of enthusiasm to sweep 
 
 the convention was not yet struck. 
 
 167 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 San Francisco nominated Senator McCann, and all 
 wondered at the uproars of approval with which his 
 name was met. Either he was a strong candidate or 
 he had friends with powerful throats. An old gray- 
 haired boss, who had lived his day and now passed 
 his time in attending conventions, shook his head. 
 
 " No, he won't do. South of the Tehachapi they 
 will slaughter him. You can't make those hard- 
 headed, hard-fisted Yankees vote for McCann. His 
 name kills him." 
 
 San Bernardino and Los Angeles put forth addi- 
 tional budding Governors, for the southern part of 
 the State furnishes as many office- seekers as oranges. 
 The delegates screeched themselves hoarse, and each 
 man had the appearance of being the really only 
 desirable possibility for the position. 
 
 Finally, Senator McCann, amiable, florid, and 
 smiling, with the fat of his neck bulging over the 
 back of his collar in wrinkles, was recognized by the 
 chairman. As unlike a martyr physically as the 
 imagination could picture, McCann, almost moved to 
 tears by the nobility of his own sacrifice, neverthe- 
 less announced that he withdrew his name in favor of 
 Schuyler Van Ness. 
 
 Not a fifth of the men knew the lawyer mentioned. 
 The others had heard of him as a cold, stern, just 
 
 young man with sufficient heritage to maintain the 
 
 1 68 
 
THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION 
 
 most scrupulous honesty. He was a friend of Theo- 
 dosia, Adele, and one of the eligible young men of 
 San Francisco. Altho he disapproved of Stryne's 
 violent methods, he felt that something should be 
 done to improve conditions in California. Conse- 
 quently in a decorous, well-balanced manner he gave 
 his support to Strynism, the only remedy. 
 
 By birth and education his sympathies were not 
 with the laboring classes, yet when McCann withdrew 
 in favor of Van Ness, they heard the voice of their 
 absent leader speak. They knew that Stryne had 
 chosen Van Ness in spite of his cold exterior because 
 he was honest, because he would give them justice. 
 It was the first signal in the convention from their 
 leader, and then they went wild. 
 
 The horns, the bells, the waving of flags, the 
 throwing of banners and hats into the air, the cries 
 from the heart of the rejoicing savage, all were re- 
 served for this moment. Stryne, by an electric un- 
 syllabled word had addressed them. It was a time 
 for embraces, for tears, for huzzas, for laughter for 
 anything he willed. 
 
 What did it matter that Van Ness was a conserva- 
 tive ? He was a symbol of the Working Men's party. 
 He was honest. He believed in Stryne. He was the 
 man to kneel before. He was to be the next Gover- 
 nor of California. 
 
 169 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Van Ness was torn from his seat among the dele- 
 gates, dragged over the foot- lights, and placed before 
 the convention a polite, frozen, well-poised person, 
 with blue eyes and brown, pointed beard, the last 
 man in the world to arouse enthusiasm. Yet he 
 bore the halo of Stryne about his head and they were 
 blinded by it. They seemed to see their leader's 
 features shining in the light surrounding Van Ness. 
 
 The nominee for Governor could not speak. He 
 was able only to bow. There were cries of " Speech ! " 
 but they were drowned by the outburst of cheers, and 
 another pandemonium reigned. 
 
 Theodosia waved her handkerchief. Adele Whit- 
 ing applauded. Ruspoli was pale and faint from the 
 excitement. Oglethorpe remarked : " We all like a 
 jolly good row, don't we ? We don't care a hang 
 what it is about either, so long as it is an out and 
 outer. I am sure I came to this affair merely to ob- 
 lige you, Miss Peyton, and here I am perspiring as if 
 I were a Working Man. " 
 
 Van Ness signaled silence and no heed was given. 
 At last the men wore themselves out and still- 
 ness came from exhaustion. The nominee began 
 speaking : 
 
 " Mr. Chairman and gentlemen of the convention : " 
 
 At this point some one yelled " Who is to be the 
 
 next Governor of California ? " From the throats of 
 
 170 
 
THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION 
 
 the great hardy men came the mighty voice 
 " Schuyler Van Ness. " The speaker waited for an 
 opportunity to continue, and presently it came. 
 
 " None of us, gentlemen, has been long in public 
 life and so we are not so well known to each other 
 as we should be. However, we have the same sym- 
 pathies. Your friend Stryne is my friend, the friend 
 of all who believe the poor man is as good as the rich, 
 and should have equal privileges. It is this bond 
 which will always hold us together, will ever bind 
 those who endeavor to uplift humanity. 
 
 " For Governor of California, we need an honest 
 man, with a spotless conscience and pure character, 
 a man of force, a man of individuality, a man who 
 has the ability to look at the sun in the morning and 
 know what is best for the State. Above all, we need 
 a man of heart, a man overflowing with kindness and 
 genuine love for the good of our commonwealth." 
 
 It was at this point that the audience became 
 restless. The men felt they could no longer endure 
 this self-eulogy. A delegate tittered at the word 
 " heart." 
 
 "There is but one man of my acquaintance," went 
 on Van Ness, " who entirely fills my idea of what a 
 Governor should be, who has that nicely balanced 
 sense of honesty, of right, of lofty purpose. You 
 
 will all agree with me, I am convinced, when I tell 
 
 171 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 you that it is your friend and my friend, Paul Stryne. 
 Gentlemen of the convention, I resign whatever 
 claims you have bestowed upon me and place him in 
 nomination. Gentlemen, the next Governor of Cali- 
 fornia, Paul Stryne ! " 
 
 Theodosia had already seen enthusiasm, but not 
 this wild, uncontrolled idolatry and man- worship 
 which burst forth. It was the cry of the mother for 
 her child, the howl of the beast for her young, the 
 passion of a lover for his mistress expressed by a 
 thousand voices. All was for Stryne. Theodosia 
 felt a chill that held her frozen. Her teeth chat- 
 tered and the tears stole down her cheeks. Ruspoli, 
 from the deep caverns of his dark, smoldering eyes, 
 gazed at her. 
 
 The leader was absent. They were not inspired 
 by his face. They were not impassioned by his 
 voice. Yet his spirit, his personality stirred them 
 to the wildest excesses of emotion. None before had 
 realized the depths and might of the torrent to sweep 
 them out of reason into a chaos of madness. No 
 absinthe could have intoxicated as did the name of 
 their hero. It was clear that none but he had ever 
 possessed 'a chance of being Governor. 
 
 Theodosia 's party felt that the strain was becoming 
 too acute for endurance. It was like endeavoring to 
 
 retain reason in a madhouse. Suddenly there was a 
 
 172 
 
THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION 
 
 great roar and men leaped on the seats, sat on each 
 other's shoulders, and screamed. 
 
 There was a blur of towsled hair, staring eyes, 
 wide-opened lips, and wax-like faces. Stryne walked 
 down the center of the stage. 
 
 He waved his hand and silenced them as if using 
 a mighty wand. His countenance was severe, his 
 brows lowered, and his coat was buttoned straight to 
 his chin. The speaker's voice had never fallen so 
 gently on his followers' hearing. Harshness and dis- 
 sonance were displaced by something like tenderness. 
 
 " Friends, men of San Francisco and the State of 
 California : I am surprised, I am hurt, and yet I am 
 gratified. I am surprised that we have been together 
 all these months and you do not know me. How 
 many times have I said to each of you publicly and 
 privately as well, that my mission is here with you as 
 one of the active workers. I care nothing for the 
 shoulder straps and epaulets of life. They do not 
 suit me. 
 
 " I am hurt that you, that my friend Van Ness, 
 have fancied even for a second that my labor in our 
 cause had any other end in view than that of wiping 
 out evil. Political preferment is an honorable ambi- 
 tion; but, my friends, you must understand always 
 that you can not pay me. My hire is in the doing. 
 Schuyler Van Ness is a gentleman. His integrity 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 can never be questioned. He stands for everything 
 cherished by us. All of these candidates are my 
 friends, excellent citizens, but for this particular 
 occasion he seemed to be the man. It was like his 
 generosity to give way to me, but this impulse must 
 be unheeded. It is my will and I think it is yours 
 and that of the people of the State, that he be the 
 next Governor of California. 
 
 " To say that I am without pleasure in the honor 
 you give me, would be false. I am stirred by depths 
 of gratitude as when often in the past you showed 
 your loyalty, your friendship. From my innermost 
 heart I thank you for the honor, but I must remain 
 in the ranks with you." 
 
 Stryne bowed to the entire audience, from the 
 highest gallery to the pit. In this movement he in- 
 cluded the boxes and his sight fell upon Theodosia 
 leaning over the edge of her loge with gaze fixed 
 upon his face, her ears straining to catch each word. 
 Their glances met and flashed recognition, where- 
 upon Theodosia hurled quickly the bouquet of violets 
 which Ruspoli had given her, at Stryne's feet. He 
 picked it up, smiled grimly, and again bowed to 
 her box. 
 
 None but her friends noticed the act. Ruspoli 
 arose from his seat, walked the length of the ante- 
 room leading to the loge, and returned to find Miss 
 
 '74 
 
THE WORKING MEN'S CONVENTION 
 
 Peyton oblivious of the presence of all except Stryne 
 and the men surrounding him, wringing his hands, 
 slapping his back, and shouting their approval. They 
 resembled nothing so much as a horde of Wall Street 
 brokers when values are rising. 
 
 Finally the nomination of Van Ness was made 
 and carried. An adjournment being effected, Stryne 
 was given another ovation and reception. Men and 
 women crowded upon the stage to touch his coat, 
 to clasp his hand. When nearly all had departed, 
 Theodosia and her party appeared. Her eyes were 
 still humid as she walked quickly across the stage 
 ahead of her guests and said to Stryne, giving him 
 her hand: "I'm so proud of you, Mr. Stryne. You 
 were splendid. You were superb. Can we never be 
 friends again? " 
 
 " Is it you or a caprice speaking, Miss Peyton ? " 
 
 T > 
 
 " Then your question is worth all the trouble it gave 
 me to bring it about." 
 
 " You do not mean you deliberately arranged the 
 scene we just saw." 
 
 " That is my secret. I will only say that I real- 
 ized what was going to happen and why." 
 
 "Why did it occur?" 
 
 " First, because it was right, and second, that a 
 Gipsy might crown himself before a lady's eyes. 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Miss Peyton, the latter result alone remunerated me 
 for the struggle. I am prouder of that than because 
 I refused the nomination." 
 
 " Are we to be friends ? " 
 
 " No, Miss Peyton," said he with unmistakable 
 meaning, as he shook his head and a smile curved 
 his lips. 
 
 " When will you come to see me? " 
 
 " When you wish," answered Stryne. 
 
Chapter XVI 
 THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 [HE evening following the convention Colo- 
 nel Peyton was reading in his library, from 
 whose walls protraits of departed distin- 
 guished Peytons of Virginia looked calmly down 
 upon him. There was a governor, an admiral, a 
 general, and an ambassador. The sight of these old 
 faded figures had sustained the family through many 
 a crisis, and Colonel Peyton was never quite for- 
 getful of their presence. 
 
 At that very moment Theodosia was alone with 
 Ruspoli in the oriental tapestried drawing-room. 
 Crimson and gold flowers nodded their drowsy heads 
 from rare slim-necked vases. Lights shone through 
 the red shades of heavy bronze candelabra. Incense 
 burned in an old Chinese urn. 
 
 Theodosia occupied a window seat piled high with 
 cushions. She wore a simple black gown of tucked 
 net with a silver girdle of large turquoises. The 
 curls of her hair clustered about her shoulders adding 
 to their beauty. Her bare arms were distinctly 
 outlined against the black of her gown. One foot, 
 
 12 J 77 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 the smallest, best- shaped foot in the city, shod with 
 the pointed toe, high-heeled tip of a black velvet 
 slipper, rested on a cushion lying upon the floor. 
 It seemed to be there for no other purpose than to 
 show Ruspoli its beautiful white self, gleaming 
 through the black silk gauze network of a stocking. 
 Yet Theodosia this night looked but a school girl, 
 unconscious and ignorant that her foot was quite 
 near Ruspoli, who half reclined upon cushions lying 
 on the carpet. 
 
 When alone with her the prince begged the privi- 
 lege of sitting at her feet. He was the only man who 
 could kneel with sufficient grace to retain her 
 respect. When he was in this posture, in spite of 
 all her Americanism she forgot that he was merely 
 a handsome, graceful, dark-eyed pale Roman with 
 an indolent dreaming mind. As he knelt before 
 her she saw his well-chiseled, modern, aristocratic 
 features, but behind him were warriors, diplomats, 
 magnificent princes, resounding glories, powerful 
 brains, and triumphs of history, the throne, Hum- 
 bert of the White Hands, and Charlemagne. In her 
 vision these great shades were her supplicating 
 lovers. They were a novelty worth guarding. 
 
 Her blue eyes were looking straight toward and 
 miles beyond the end of the room. Her cheeks were 
 
 pink with the excitement of the day. Ruspoli 
 
 178 
 
THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 watched her face for several minutes, hoping that 
 she would notice him, but her gaze ignored his 
 presence. Still he looked up at her. 
 
 Finally he whispered as if fearing to disturb a 
 sleeper : 
 
 " Signorina ! " She heard him not. 
 
 His fists became resolute and his teeth bit to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Signorina, I am jealous of your thoughts." 
 Theodosia found the horizon interesting. 
 
 " Signorina, I love thee. " 
 
 Theodosia remarked, without moving an eyelash : 
 
 "I suppose you do, but don't talk about it to- 
 night." 
 
 The Italian leaned on his elbow, and, looking at 
 her keenly said : " I am angry. You never objected 
 before." 
 
 "Really? Well, it's quite time then. Love and 
 lovers are very silly that is, if one has anything 
 better to think about." 
 
 " I'll do anything you say, Signorina, to make my- 
 self worthy of consideration. What do you suggest ? " 
 
 Theodosia looked at the Italian. " Cease being 
 a mere indolent, supplicating lover, and work." 
 
 "Ah, Signorina, that is not Theodosia, given of 
 the gods, speaking, but the American, the Yankee. 
 Work? Why, it is mere destruction, death a ne- 
 
 '79 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 cessity for the unfortunate. What shall I do ? What 
 can I do ? Everything that is worth while was ac- 
 complished long ago by my countrymen. You would 
 not have me so ridiculous as to write a poem when 
 Father Dante completed poetry in 1300? Would 
 you counsel me to the impertinence of art after 
 Angelo? Should I throw for the fortunes of war 
 after our young Corsican Bonaparte has made pyg- 
 mies of all heroes of history ? What is there for me 
 to do in a world so finished ? All has been perfected 
 but love. It is the only incomplete art and it shall 
 be mine alone. Is it not noble ? Is it not beauti- 
 ful ? Is it not worth one's life ? I have given mine 
 to it, Signorina, and at thy feet I place it." 
 
 Theodosia did not glance at him. 
 
 " Ah, Signorina, I am happy that I never exhausted 
 the life of my soul in aught so stupid as work. I 
 have drawn upon its blood for naught but dreams 
 which richened its red. The song I did not sing, the 
 picture I did not paint, the poem I did not write, 
 the battles I did not fight, are in my soul's love for 
 thee, dearest lady." 
 
 Theodosia looked at the Italian half reclining on 
 the rug, his eyes filled with ancient tragedy, tender- 
 ness, and passion, his lips slightly parted. With a 
 gesture of the hand he was about to touch hers. 
 
 Ruspoli was undeniably handsome. Stryne possessed 
 
 1 89 
 
THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 only moments of beauty. Ruspoli was a gentleman. 
 Stryne was an adventurer. Every thought of the 
 prince's existence was for her. The socialist threw 
 her out of his mind at will. Again the glory, his- 
 tory, and triumphs of the heroes of the oldest reign- 
 ing house in Europe trooped before her eyes. It 
 was pleasant to be loved by Ruspoli. The fire of his 
 words warmed her pulses. She was tempted to allow 
 the caress, but she drew her hand away. 
 
 The Prince sank back into his place while Theo- 
 dosia stirred in her seat and returned his gaze. 
 " Signorina, I pray thee, let me love thee. Dio 
 mio! I will teach thee love. Thou who hast lived 
 among restraint and Saxon icebergs, what doest 
 thou know? Nothing. Yet it is in thy sleep- 
 ing eyes and thy sleeping soul to feel all the fire 
 of my race." 
 
 His glance fixed hers and held it. She caressed 
 him with her eyes. He crept toward her and she 
 did not repel him. "Dearest Signorina, thou must 
 love me. Dio mio! to hear thee say those words, 
 'Alessandro, lo famo* It is too exquisite. My 
 heart stops, clearest lady, at the thought of touching 
 thy hand, thy lips." 
 
 He took his eyes from hers, for he covered his face 
 with his hands. This act shook her free from his 
 
 glance, and she moved to a corner of the window seat. 
 
 181 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 "Am I too daring, Signorina? " began he. " Canst 
 thou not love me? " 
 
 "No, Prince." 
 
 " You gave me your eyes, yourself, a moment ago. 
 What did they say? Nothing? Do not hurt me by 
 evasion. Honor me with a direct answer." 
 
 Theodosia considered carefully. " I was fascinated 
 for the instant by your magnetism." 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 Theodosia shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Only fascinated ? This moment I am nothing ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Signorina, was not that which you call fascination 
 the beginning of love? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," laughed she. 
 
 " You are indifferent then ? " The question was 
 not worth a response. Theodosia pursed up her lips 
 and shook her head in the affirmative. 
 
 "Then may I ask, Signorina, why you keep me 
 here?" 
 
 " I ? Keep you ? " exclaimed she naively, with a 
 series of rising slides. 
 
 " Yes, you keep me. You have held me all these 
 months. Why do you not send me away ? " 
 
 Theodosia was eloquent in self-defense. 
 
 "Because you want to stay, and I am a kind- 
 hearted person, too kind, almost weak, and I allow 
 
 182 
 
THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 you to remain. I think I am very good but you do 
 not appreciate it." 
 
 " There were men who desired as much as I to 
 remain. You dismissed them all. Why do you not 
 send me away ? " 
 
 Theodosia attempted to frown her smooth white 
 brow in contemplation. " Because you speak Italian 
 so beautifully and it improves my accent." 
 
 The Prince was now at her feet, regarding her 
 with intense, half-closed eyes. " That is not an an- 
 swer," said he. " Why do you not send me away? " 
 
 Theodosia was driven into a corner. " I refuse to 
 be questioned. I never allowed any one to catechize 
 me. At the age of twenty-one, Theodosia Peyton, 
 the head of her father's household for four years, will 
 not permit cross-examination." 
 
 Her white arms were folded across her breast. 
 The tangle of yellow curls were tossed over her left 
 shoulder. Breath came quickly, and she was tapping 
 her slippered lace-covered foot. Ruspoli leaned back 
 and said decisively : " I have spent a year's time, 
 and I have earned the right again to ask why don't 
 you send me away? " 
 
 " Very well, I will tell you. Because I like you. " 
 
 The Italian shook his head. " There is no such 
 word as like for us. It can not be spelled by you 
 and me. It is love or nothing." 
 
 183 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Good. It is nothing. You can never complain 
 of me again. Go ! " 
 
 The prince raised himself slowly to his feet, his 
 eyes fixed sadly on Theodosia. He walked to the 
 hall door still regarding her, then bowed. She said, 
 " Buona sera, " and picked up a book of poems. Rus- 
 poli looked at her again and rushed quickly back to 
 her side. 
 
 " I can not, Signorina. You know it as well as I. 
 I have quite lost my manhood. I should not have 
 waited for dismission, but my limbs and mind are 
 paralyzed. They will not obey me. My future, my 
 past, is blotted out. There is just one moment in 
 existence. Despise me when I tell you that it is 
 this here with you. You do not love me I see. 
 You could not care and be so cruel, but it does not 
 matter; I want to remain and never go. Do not 
 send me away again." 
 
 " You silly boy! " said she, as he nestled his head 
 among the cushions close to her like a punished child. 
 Her cheeks almost touched his brow and her fingers 
 tingled to caress his hair and comfort him. Prudence 
 moved her too into the corner of the window seat. 
 
 " Signorina, you are a little happy that I did not 
 go, are you not ? " 
 
 "It is always unpleasant to separate," said she 
 
 softly. 
 
 184 
 
THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 " Yes, and say to me that this separation would 
 have meant something to you." 
 
 Theodosia felt that the tone of her voice was too 
 much like his, so she answered in a matter-of-fact 
 way: 
 
 " Must I repeat ? Parting is always disagreeable 
 a remark centuries old." 
 
 " Do not make it so general. Let me imagine it 
 is for me." Then, after a pause, " Have you been 
 happy to-day, Signorina ? " 
 
 " Very." 
 
 " All that socialistic babel gave you pleasure ? " 
 
 "A great deal." 
 
 "Then if you were content, how could you do 
 what you did ? " 
 
 Theodosia was genuinely surprised. "I do not 
 understand. What was it? Pray, tell me, Prince." 
 
 " You do not recollect ? " 
 
 " Oh, I had my first experience in a political con- 
 vention." 
 
 " God knows that was bad enough, Signorina, and 
 it grieved me. I thought you had forgotten all the 
 ridiculous, impractical, anarchistic theories of Stryne. 
 It was sufficiently painful to accompany you, but 
 that was not the great humiliation." 
 
 Theodosia was curious. "Which was? " 
 
 The prince grew ill at ease. 
 '85 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " It was such a small thing to you, yet it meant so 
 much to me. I have been sick at heart all day 
 long." 
 
 " Why ? Because I went ahead and spoke to Mr. 
 Stryne?" 
 
 " No," retorted he, his thick black brows uniting 
 in one horizontal line, "not that. This morning I 
 sent you some violets nothing at all but they were 
 for you, and not for your friend Stryne or whatever 
 his name may be." 
 
 " Don't be so ridiculous as to be jealous, Prince." 
 
 " Call it anything you wish, but the entire morn- 
 ing I said under my breath, 'She wears my violets. 
 I am so joyous.* Signorina, it was a hot iron in 
 my brain when you leaned over the edge of the loge, 
 and from pure ecstasy threw them at Stryne." 
 
 " I suppose it afforded you pleasure, Prince, to 
 give me the flowers. If, however, they are accom- 
 panied by restrictions, do not send them, or if you 
 do, kindly write a note and state to what high, lofty 
 purpose I may dedicate them." 
 
 " Pardon, but you understand as well as I, Signo- 
 rina. You misinterpret purposely. I may be jeal- 
 ous; lam jealous, and I have reason to be. Perhaps 
 you will call it selfishness, but I am more jealous of 
 your honor than your love, and any one who touches 
 
 it must answer to me. You will not then see me 
 
 186 
 
THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 dawdling at your feet, but you will see me as I am, 
 an officer, a gentleman, a man, and your defender." 
 
 "Who has touched my honor ?" asked Theodosia 
 with blanching face. 
 
 " Stryne. I can not suffer to see you degrade your- 
 self to a fellow like him, who only repays you by 
 abusing your kindness, generosity, and confidence." 
 
 Ruspoli's head was thrown back on his shoulders, 
 and his eyes were flaming. 
 
 " My confidence ? " asked Theodosia in amaze. 
 
 "Yes, Signorina." 
 
 "Please give statistics, how, when, and where." 
 
 " No gentleman would presume to enter the house 
 of a lady at half after ten and remain two hours as 
 he did the night of the dinner you gave for him." 
 
 " He told you that, Prince? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Mr. Stryne said so to some one ? " 
 
 " No, Signorina." 
 
 Then derision was transformed into laughter. 
 " Oh, I understand now," said Theodosia slowly. 
 " You saw him." 
 
 " Yes, Signorina. You know how often I watched 
 the lights of your boudoir. " 
 
 " You, mon cher Prince, were good enough to wait 
 and play the spy. That is pleasant to know." 
 
 " You comprehend what your honor means to me." 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Theodosia's lip curled. " Really I had not ob- 
 served before, but now it is clear. We were talking 
 a little while ago of occupations and you disdained 
 all. Let me suggest one for you, mon cher Prince 
 be a detective. There is fabulous wealth in it for 
 you." 
 
 " You insist upon being unjust, Signorina. It was 
 only by accident that I met Stryne. I expected him 
 to return immmediately, for I imagined he had for- 
 gotten something. I was presumptuous enough to 
 be jealous. I passed two hours, my brain mad with 
 a demon's fancies. At last he left you, and as we 
 met I was a murderer. I know your impulses, your 
 sympathies, and so I understand why you pardoned 
 his insolence, but what would the world say ? " 
 
 Theodosia's blue eyes were black. 
 
 " It will perhaps afford your sleuth's mind relief to 
 know that Mr. Stryne came here at my solicitation, 
 against his wish, and he took no liberty." 
 
 " He should have refused, Signorina." 
 
 " Being merely a man and not a prince, he came. 
 As for what the world says, has said, or will say 
 it will always say nice things of me. The Peytons 
 compel it whether the world wishes or not. Besides, 
 you know the world has no detectives in its employ. 
 It is only love love, understand that makes spies. " 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons, Signorina. " 
 1 88 
 
THE ARTIST OF LOVE 
 
 Ruspoli 's head bowed. Theodosia was erect and 
 the tenderness had departed from her expression. 
 
 " Not one shall be granted, Prince Ruspoli. You 
 have done the unpardonable. I have been very kind 
 to you. You bored me. You were often tiresome, 
 but I have tolerated you, merely tolerated you. 
 This is your return after my year of patience. " 
 
 " I do not like to dispute with a lady, Signorina. 
 I rarely do, but what you say is not true. Only 
 your anger is speaking. I forbid you to repeat those 
 words." 
 
 " You forbid me by the order of the King," an- 
 swered she in mockery. Dio mio! That is droll. 
 I should have said you were ludicrous, you were a 
 bore; now I dislike you, I detest you, I hate you." 
 
 Theodosia felt thistles of fire in her eyes. Her 
 voice broke and she was on the verge of tears. Rus- 
 poli set his jaws together, half closed his dead eyes, 
 braced his hand on the carpet, and said in a low, in- 
 flexible voice, little more than a whisper : " It is not 
 true. Utter those words again and I will embrace 
 you." 
 
 The girl could hardly credit her ears and leaned 
 quickly toward him, clapping her hands together to 
 mark emphasis : " You are a coward, Prince Ruspoli. 
 I like Mr. Stryne very much. I think I could love 
 
 him. I loathe you. " 
 
 189 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 By accident in her excitement, Theodosia brought 
 her pretty right foot directly down on his hand. 
 Ruspoli would have been injured but he grabbed it 
 quickly and prevented the shock. He held it in a 
 terrible grip, bent and pressed his lips on the instep, 
 then released it. 
 
 Directly he rose to his feet and she sprang upward 
 in wrath. His features were rigid. "I warned 
 you, Signorina." 
 
 Her cheeks and neck were crimson. She could 
 scarcely choke out the words, " I want to use my 
 hands. Oh, to be a man just to kill you ! " 
 
 Ruspoli saluted her as he might have greeted his 
 cousin, the Queen of Italy. Theodosia fled to the 
 hall. The sight of her departing in anger melted 
 the Italian's pride. He called out, leaping after her, 
 " Signorina, pardon." 
 
 She turned on him, nostrils quivering, lips twitch- 
 ing, eyes blinking, and blinded with rage. 
 
 "Don't dare speak to me," she cried, her neck 
 stretched to its full height. " Are you so dull you 
 can not understand that our acquaintance is abso- 
 lutely at an end?" 
 
 190 
 
Chapter XVII 
 VIOLETS 
 
 JWENTY-FOUR hours passed and Theo- 
 dosia heard nothing from Ruspoli. He 
 had never before allowed so much time to 
 elapse without making himself felt. At the close of 
 another day she received news. Adele Whiting 
 came to see her and said he had called that after- 
 noon. It was her first experience with the gall of 
 neglect, and she declared under her breath that she 
 hated him. Wrath so furious as hers was soon 
 spent. Unless she commanded imagination to re- 
 count and reiterate her wrongs, she found indigna- 
 tion subsiding into tepidity. 
 
 Theodosia asked Adele Whiting directly, "Tell 
 me what you both said of me. I suppose you talked 
 about nothing else." 
 
 " On the contrary, Theo. I referred to you often. 
 It was only natural since you are my dearest friend, 
 but each time I mentioned you Ruspoli preferred 
 another subject. I don't know what to make of you 
 and him. What have you done? I'm sure some- 
 thing naughty." 
 
 191 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " I merely refused ever to meet the Prince again. 
 I'm tired of him. " Theodosia could not explain that 
 he insulted her, for she realized that the chief fault 
 lay in herself. Adele became embarrassed as she 
 began, " The Prince asked mamma and me to drive 
 with him to the Cliff to-morrow. I hope, Theo dear, 
 you will not mind. I should have refused, I suppose, 
 but the right thing never occurs to one until after- 
 ward. I didn't feel quite nice about going without 
 first explaining to you. What shall I do? " 
 
 Theodosia turned a trifle pale and then smiled. 
 "You foolish girl, go of course. I've cut Prince 
 Ruspoli myself, but I don't ask my friends to do the 
 same. I have no more concern in him than in a 
 stranger." 
 
 " Still, I'm not exactly sure. I know he doesn't 
 care a bit about taking me, but merely asks me 
 because I am close to you." 
 
 " You are charming enough to be liked for yourself 
 alone, Adele. You please him or he would not have 
 invited you." 
 
 " If I only could straighten things out between 
 you I should feel justified, but I don't think I 
 ought." 
 
 " There is nothing to be straightened out, Adele. 
 It is simply finished, and I am glad of it. Please go. 
 
 I'm awfully anxious that you do," said Theodosia in 
 
 192 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 rising spirits. " Promise me that you will," insisted 
 she as her friend departed. 
 
 During the afternoons in the seventies, the Cliff 
 House was the objective point of the fashionable 
 world. It had not yet been popularized by street-car 
 lines. Consequently only those persons possessing 
 leisure and carriages could go there. The Cliff be- 
 came the mode, and every afternoon between the 
 hours of three and six, dozens of conveyances con- 
 taining San Francisco's handsomest and best-dressed 
 women drove from the town to the ocean. Now 
 they are scattered over two continents. Their beauty, 
 their wit, and their admirers at this day are merely 
 the folk-lore of old San Franciscans. 
 
 Ruspoli and the Whitings joined this throng. It 
 was like the society of a village, for they nodded to 
 the occupants of nearly every carriage. The Italian 
 was extremely courteous to Mrs. Whiting, a stately, 
 snowy-haired, blue-eyed woman, who had given her 
 daughter none of her beauty. They talked of Italy 
 where Mrs. Whiting had lived, and Ruspoli was so 
 deferential that it seemed to the lady her girlhood 
 had returned. Their carriage was turning into the 
 road overlooking the ocean and leading to the Cliff 
 House, when they noticed the tan livery of the Pey- 
 ton footman and coachman. 
 
 Adele now understood why Theodosia begged her 
 13 *93 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 to drive with Ruspoli. In a second they were facing 
 Miss Peyton and Paul Stryne. Both greeted the 
 Whitings with cordiality, but apparently the Prince 
 was unobserved. Yet no break occurred in his voice 
 and he picked up the sentence in the same intona- 
 tion as before he paused to remove his hat. Later 
 in the afternoon the Whitings observed that Rus- 
 poli 's spirits lagged. 
 
 That evening Colonel Peyton found his daughter 
 most companionable. She had not been so gay in 
 months. " You are too happy, Theodosia, to be 
 natural. What is the matter? " 
 
 "I'm feeling the greatest of all joys, daddy 
 revenge." 
 
 " You imagine that, my girl. To-morrow you will 
 be regretful. The pleasure of revenge is very short- 
 lived. Never take it, for it is not worth while." 
 
 Theodosia refused to explain more, for she dis- 
 dained the assistance of even her father in fighting 
 her battles. 
 
 When she heard the bell ring the following morn- 
 ing, she was certain that it was a message from 
 Ruspoli. She was wearing a white lace peignoir 
 and just taking coffee. Victoire, her maid, brought 
 a note and begged to know where she should place 
 the violets. There were great boxes and baskets of 
 
 them. Theodosia ordered them fetched to her. 
 
 194 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 Then she was alone with her letter. It was in 
 Italian. 
 
 " I can not believe that after four days your anger 
 is unreasonable. You are too kind and generous 
 for that. So I venture to send you a few violets. 
 
 " These days of separation, dearest Signorina, are 
 nothing to you, but I can not endure another. I 
 must see you again, for your beautiful vision is the 
 horizon of my heart and soul. The air of this city is 
 intolerable if I am to be banished from your presence. 
 If I can not be near you I must move. I am unable 
 to endure the fetters of San Francisco. I must find 
 action, something to express this terrible current of 
 fire, seething within me. 
 
 " I will say anything you desire. You were kind, 
 you were just. I was wrong. I supplicate, entreat 
 the favor of five minutes' conversation with you, if 
 only for addio. It is no idle lover's boast when I 
 tell you that everything depends upon you. If I 
 come this evening at half after eight, tell me shall I 
 return to Italy or remain. 
 
 "RUSPOLI." 
 
 Theodosia wrote on a sheet of paper " Five min- 
 utes for addio" and the messenger left the house. 
 
 Presently she dismissed Victoire, and re-read the 
 letter. White and purple violets filled the apartment 
 with their aroma. Her head was burning and she 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 buried her face in a box of the flowers. Their moist 
 petals cooled her cheeks. Then she took the blos- 
 soms into her arms and caressed them as a mother 
 embraces a child. She lay on the couch and covered 
 her entire form with loose violets. Finally her brain 
 was dizzy from the scent. 
 
 Later Victoire returned and took away all but one 
 basket to arrange in the Oriental drawing-room. 
 She placed them in every corner, vase, urn, and on 
 each tabouret and table it the apartment. When 
 Theodosia entered it that evening on her way to 
 dinner, the rich perfume penetrated her senses and 
 made her giddy. It had been a long day and she 
 dressed early for dinner because there was nothing 
 else to do. She felt it an absurd coincidence that 
 the hours stood still on this day of Ruspoli's depar- 
 ture. It gave him the importance of an event. 
 
 Theodosia strolled about the room, humming an 
 air and looking at herself in mirrors. She had 
 dressed with a special care, putting on her princesse 
 gown of heavy cream silk. She looked at the white 
 and pink flesh of her face, arms, and shoulders, her 
 curls extending to her waist line, the rose of her lips, 
 the blue of her large, clear, merry eyes, and shud- 
 dered as she realized that this gift of youth and 
 beauty was hers for but a few years. In a decade it 
 
 would be broken. In two of them, gone. 
 
 196 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 Then she threw out both arms convulsively and 
 drew a deep, full breath. "Twenty years," said 
 she. " What will happen in that time ? I do not 
 know, but I shall live every minute of them. When 
 age, death, or anything horrid comes, life can not 
 say I was cheated of a second." 
 
 Meditation arose from solitude, over-punctuality, 
 and being obliged to wait, all three of which she 
 resolved to avoid in the future. Then she chirped 
 a gay French student song and pinned a great cluster 
 of Ruspoli's violets in her hair. They were an im- 
 provement royal purple on gold. Presently she fast- 
 ened more of them on her left shoulder, some rest- 
 ing their heads on the flesh and others on her white 
 band of a sleeve. They rendered her more beautiful 
 and forced her to forget the pessimistic calendar. 
 
 A minute before half after eight Theodosia re- 
 ceived the Prince's card. She was dreaming in the 
 twilight of her room. She clasped on her wrist a 
 pearl bracelet in which was set a small watch. 
 After tossing one curl over her shoulder, arranging 
 her violets, she sat in her chair and thought for ten 
 minutes. Then she descended the stairway to 
 Ruspoli. 
 
 The Prince was standing in the drawing-room, and 
 apparently had been in the same attitude since his 
 
 arrival. In his evening coat his shoulders seemed 
 
 197 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 broader than usual. His cheeks were as colorless as 
 the bosom of his shirt. Eyes and hair glowed like 
 jet. His well-defined, red lips, even tho unopened, 
 spoke his thoughts. The girl looked at him an in- 
 stant before the greeting. Ruspoli's features, bear- 
 ing, and manner were so patrician, so thoroughly 
 what a gentleman should be, that the artist in her 
 must admire him. 
 
 He bowed profoundly, his heels together. No 
 other man could convey such homage with a simple 
 salutation. Every woman who received it felt it 
 the highest flattery, because for the instant she 
 seemed the only being of his thoughts. 
 
 Ruspoli's eyes followed Theodosia's movements. 
 She approached him and frankly gave her hand. 
 When he was seated near her he shook his head 
 slightly, and blinked his eyes to pierce the mist fill- 
 ing them. His rigid, upright frame quivered. 
 
 " Remember, " said Theodosia gently, " you must 
 speak very rapidly, for you have but five minutes. " 
 
 " Pray, do not remind me of that, Signorina. It 
 is unnecessary." For the first time he observed the 
 violets in her hair. Previously he had not taken his 
 gaze from her eyes. Then he nearly smiled. 
 
 " You are very kind to wear them, Signorina. I 
 thank you. " 
 
 " Why not ? They are beautiful." 
 198 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 "They are in your hair only because of their 
 beauty ? Tell me, I beg, that they are a token of 
 your nobility, generosity, that I am almost forgiven, 
 that I may remain.'' 
 
 Theodosia shook her head and looked at her brace- 
 let. 
 
 " I said five minutes for addio, Prince." 
 
 " You will not be gracious ? Am I not pardoned ? 
 Is this to be our separation, Signorina? Do you 
 mean to tell me that I am nothing to you ? Can you 
 send me away after our year of friendship with no 
 kind word? Was I so completely wrong? " 
 
 " We have no time for argument, Prince Ruspoli 
 only three minutes more." 
 
 " Have I ever offended you before, Signorina? " 
 
 "No. Once is sufficient. " 
 
 " You demand that I submit to everything from 
 you, that I be your slave? " 
 
 " I made no demands, Prince Ruspoli. You have 
 acted always as pleased you." 
 
 " I know it, and I have been a serf. Do you sup- 
 pose were I anything else I should have followed you 
 a year? I have abased myself to the point where I 
 can not resent insult. Mine was the kiss of a slave 
 and you should consider it such." 
 
 "Thirty seconds are gone." 
 
 " This is the first time I ever sought a woman who 
 199 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 showed I displeased. It may be surprising to you, 
 Signorina, but in other parts of the world I am not 
 so utterly insignificant as here." 
 
 " I agree with you. Frankly you are charming, 
 but let us not waste time discussing it, for only two 
 minutes are left." 
 
 " You misinterpret my meaning. My intention, 
 Signorina, was to explain that this is the first time I 
 have been held by a woman as a person of no conse- 
 quence. It is almost worth a trip to California." 
 
 " Pardon me for wounding your vanity, Prince." 
 
 " My vanity, " stormed he rapidly in Italian. " Dio 
 mio, my vanity ! Do you suppose if I had an atom, 
 a shadow, a trace of vanity, that I should sit here 
 and beg you to show me the consideration you would 
 grant a tradesman ? Had I possessed vanity, Signo- 
 rina, at the end of three weeks you would have loved 
 me or I should have left you. It is the absence of 
 vanity which holds me, pleading only that you will 
 dismiss me kindly." 
 
 " That is a paradox. Women who send men away 
 kindly do not send them at all." 
 
 " If you will be gentle I will go this minute, and 
 I promise, Signorina, you shall never hear from me 
 again. I will never tire you, bore you, or harass 
 you, as you said that night. You meant it all, did 
 
 you not? " 
 
 200 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 Theodosia's nose and mouth were hidden in the 
 large bouquet of violets on her left shoulder. He 
 could not see her eyes and scarcely distinguished 
 the words, " Not quite all. You know I was angry." 
 
 " And you are not angry now, Signorina ? Look 
 at me." 
 
 Theodosia endeavored to be severe. " Of course 
 I am, but I mean the other evening I was very, very 
 angry. Now I am only very angry. You see there 
 is a word's difference." 
 
 " You will always be angry? " 
 
 " Always," said she, burying her face in the violets. 
 
 Suddenly Theodosia started and looked at the 
 watch in her pearl bracelet. " Oh," cried she, " your 
 five minutes are passed, six minutes." 
 
 "Then you really mean addio?" asked he, as she 
 again hid her countenance in the violets on her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Really," answered she in a smothered voice. 
 
 A look of intelligence flashed into his eyes. He 
 arose to go. She accompanied him, saying, 
 
 " Those violets are delicious. I can not take my 
 face from them. They are so fragrant. " 
 
 " Not to say addio ? " 
 
 "No, not even for that. They are intoxicating." 
 
 Ruspoli stood in front of her and she held out her 
 hand, "Addio, Prince." 
 
 2OI 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 "I refuse to go, Signorina, unless you look at 
 me." 
 
 Theodosia raised her head reluctantly and tried to 
 smile, but on the right cheek was a tiny drop of 
 water, the sum of all her woe a tear. 
 
 Ruspoli lowered his face close to hers. Joy was in 
 his eyes. He feared to mar his happiness by aught 
 but a whisper : 
 
 "There is something on your cheek, Signorina, 
 that looks like a tear." 
 
 "Oh, dear, no," she said quickly, laughing as she 
 brushed it with her handkerchief. " It is merely the 
 water from your violets. " 
 
 " Pardon me, Signorina, but there are two drops of 
 water on your left cheek." 
 
 " Those violets, Prince, are very wet." 
 
 " May I have them, Signorina ? " 
 
 Theodosia concealed her face in their purple petals 
 and answered, " No, they are mine." 
 
 " But I asked for the sake of addfo" 
 
 " Your .five minutes are gone." 
 
 " May I have the violets ? " queried he, reaching 
 for them? She unloosened them from her bodice, 
 buried her face in them, and with bravery depicted 
 on her countenance, gave him the flowers. Ruspoli 
 looked at her steadily as she did so. Then he crushed 
 the violets to his mouth. When he raised his eyes 
 
 202 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 they bore the same inebriated expression as hers. 
 He kissed the flowers repeatedly, and Theodosia 
 cried, " Let me take them once more." 
 
 She crushed them in her hands and pressed them 
 to her face. "Theodosia," exclaimed Ruspoli, step- 
 ping toward her with outstretched arms. 
 
 "No," answered she, turning away from him. 
 " Take them quickly." 
 
 Ruspoli held them to his lips and devoured some 
 of them. 
 
 " Those in your hair. Let me touch them there 
 on your head. Just once for addio" 
 
 She held the violets tightly in her fingers, her eyes 
 closed, while he caressed the flowers in her hair. 
 The purple blossoms scattered into the gold of her 
 curls, and Theodosia was in the Prince's arms. He 
 kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her hair. 
 Neither could speak. Tears streamed down his 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Dio, how I love thee, Theodosia. Once touch 
 thy lips to mine, my life. " 
 
 Her head lay upon his shoulder. " Thou cruel 
 woman, thou most beautiful, I adore thee." 
 
 " I do not love thee, Alessandro. It was only the 
 violets," said she faintly. " I am mad from them. " 
 
 " Thou lovest me, Theodosia. " 
 
 " I do not love thee." 
 
 203 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PKINCE 
 
 "Look at me, Theodosia, my joy. Thou lovest 
 me." 
 
 " No, it was the violets' perfume," answered she, 
 freeing herself from his embrace. Then she held 
 out her hand and said, " Buona notte, Prince. A 
 rivederci" 
 
 Slowly she moved backward to the door, her eyes 
 looking sadly at his, the violets dropping from her 
 hair to the floor. Anguish drooped the corners of 
 her lips and lined her brow. The Italian stood 
 mutely reading the meaning of her face. Again she 
 repeated, "A rivederci, Prince." 
 
 Ruspoli sprang forward, clasping her hands, and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Thou dost not mean a rivederci, Signorina. 
 Thine eyes tell me that we shall never meet again. 
 They say addio" 
 
 Theodosia's was a faint head tone, " I said 'a 
 rivederci' ' 
 
 " Then tell me when, Theodosia." 
 
 Tears blistered her cheeks, and she shook her 
 head, scarcely articulating the words, "I do not 
 know." 
 
 Ruspoli stood in the doorway and watched her 
 white gown disappear up the staircase. She came 
 back and cast toward him a few violets from her hair. 
 
 "A rivederci, Prince." 
 
 204 
 
VIOLETS 
 
 Then she hurled herself into her room, shivering 
 with sobs. "Purple is frightfully unbecoming, 
 Victoire. Throw those violets away. Never allow 
 them in the house again. Their perfume makes me 
 ill." 
 
 205 
 
Chapter XVIII 
 THE PRINCE RECEIVES HIS CONGE 
 
 [EODOSIA PEYTON had skated over 
 cracking ice, thin as white tissue paper. 
 It did not break. She had swum the 
 swiftest rapids. The exhilaration but pleased her. 
 She had walked on the edge of the precipices of the 
 Alps. It was sport. Her head was clear as the 
 mountain air. 
 
 When she rode, she sought an untamed horse. If 
 she went to sea she preferred a storm. Her highly 
 strung nature always demanded danger. It did not 
 occur to her that it might be found in Ruspoli, un- 
 aggressive, indolent, with only his courtly manner, 
 gentle heart, and handsome face and form to warn 
 peril. Under all circumstances she discovered the 
 ludicrous. This evening was like a shipwreck in the 
 Sacramento River. Clearly she was no sort of a 
 sailor. 
 
 Were it Stryne, for example, she would not have 
 been so surprised. Theodosia could readily fancy 
 being swept off her feet by his force and vehemence. 
 
 Ruspoli was a humiliation to her pride and mind. 
 
 206 
 
THE PRINCE RECEIVES HIS CONG& 
 
 She had yielded her lips, her soul, to an inferior 
 power. 
 
 Notwithstanding this he was unattainable. There 
 lay the sting. Penniless but for the allowance and 
 favor of the King, a dependent upon his cousin, she 
 had permitted herself to be embraced by a man as far 
 from her as tho married. Here was more wormwood 
 for her to drink Theodosia, an experienced general, 
 surrounded and taken prisoner through a trick ! 
 
 Theodosia recalled that the Prince declared she 
 loved him. Of course she had contradicted, but he 
 undoubtedly believed it. He must be disabused of 
 the idea immediately, if the morning failed to con- 
 vince him of the folly of his fancy. 
 
 There were to be no more meetings for " Addio " 
 or "A rivederci" but a note telling what she thought 
 was the truth and giving him dismissal. 
 
 Theodosia assured herself that her shock was suffi- 
 cient warning against further absurdity. Later she 
 became convinced that something more than a re- 
 quest or a demand was necessary to rid herself of 
 the Italian, for underneath his impassive exterior 
 was surprising tenacity. 
 
 The girl perceived the need of escaping from the 
 city or Santa Cruz. She knew that Ruspoli would 
 not depart if he could find her in either place. She 
 
 considered possible refuges. All were accessible to 
 
 207 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 him. Finally she thought of White Springs, a farm 
 owned by one of the former servants of the Peytons. 
 It lay in the foothills of the Sierras, distant several 
 hours of railway travel, and two days' journey by 
 stage. She was not running away, she explained 
 to her conscience merely making a strategic move- 
 ment to the rear. 
 
 Theodosia quickly prepared for the journey. By 
 ten o'clock she was ready to go to the station. She 
 decided to depart alone. Only her father and Vic- 
 toire were to know of her whereabouts. She could 
 trust them. To her intimate friends she merely 
 wrote notes explaining that she had been ordered a 
 complete rest and repose in the mountains. She 
 would return when restored to health. Ruspoli re- 
 ceived the following in Italian : 
 
 " We have said addio, and there must be no more 
 repetition. I told you quite frankly last evening 
 that I do not love you. The word shall never be 
 altered. There is nothing more to be said. 
 
 " I am leaving town to-day and I shall not return 
 until you are gone. It is useless for you to endeavor 
 to find me, for no one knows my abiding place. 
 
 " I dare say, I have been very naughty. Men 
 always think that when women do not care for them. 
 Perhaps you are right. If you are, I am sorry. 
 
 " If you blame me, be consoled by bearing in mind 
 208 
 
THE PRINCE RECEIVES HIS CONG& 
 
 that last evening you caused the most thorough 
 humiliation of my life. That should be some happi- 
 ness for you. 
 
 "I have done with flirtation. 
 
 " THEODOSIA PEYTON." 
 
 Ruspoli read the hard, forced letter several hours 
 after Theodosia's departure. It hurt him, altho it 
 was not unexpected. By this time he had learned 
 that there was always an ebb in the flood of her 
 emotions. The Prince, notwithstanding the deter- 
 mined, deliberate cruelty of the note, smiled at her 
 words, " I told you quite frankly last evening that I 
 do not love you." Again he held her in his arms as 
 then, and his lips were on hers. He was suffocated 
 by the perfume of her hair. Ruspoli shook his head 
 over the vacillation of woman. 
 
 Theodosia believed that, when the Italian saw 
 himself without hope, he would depart immediately. 
 It was something that never occurred to him. In- 
 stead his mind traversed the full list of her friends 
 and acquaintances. He discovered that, while she 
 was the confidante of many women, she kept her 
 own secrets. There was no friend who could betray 
 her. Colonel Peyton was not to be considered. 
 Suddenly his fist came down upon the arm of his 
 
 chair, and, leaving the club where he was staying, he 
 14 209 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 ascended California Street to the Peyton house. 
 There he asked for Victoire. 
 
 This rounded, red-cheeked, black-eyed Parisian 
 had charms of her own. When told that the Prince 
 desired to see her, she rushed to the mirror and then 
 descended in a great flurry. Victoire had always 
 believed that, if she could once fix Ruspoli with her 
 gaze, he would turn his eyes a second time. This 
 was her opportunity. 
 
 The Prince assumed his grande maniere. He 
 gave her the bow he offered Theodosia and his 
 Queen. It was a great occasion and nothing could 
 be overlooked. His salutation made Victoire certain 
 that if only she had a " dot " she might be a Baroness, 
 
 Victoire lowered her glance, giving the Italian the 
 full danger of her eyes they really were fine 
 while he spoke. 
 
 "Mademoiselle," began he in French. The Rus- 
 polis were not royal, but they had given their coun- 
 try several generations of diplomats. It was some- 
 thing for Victoire to be addressed as Mademoiselle 
 by the cousin of the King of Italy. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I know you have the complete 
 trust and confidence of Mademoiselle Peyton. You 
 are probably the only person in San Francisco to 
 whom. she would give her address, for she is quite ill, 
 
 I understand, and wishes to be alone." 
 
 210 
 
THE PRINCE RECEIVES HIS CONG& 
 
 " Vraiment, Monsieur le Prince, Mademoiselle is 
 indeed ill. Last evening even the perfume of vio- 
 lets made her hysterical." 
 
 " Indeed, all her friends regret it exceedingly, 
 Mademoiselle," answered Ruspoli, contracting the 
 corners of his lips to keep from showing his pleasure. 
 
 " Only news of the utmost importance could induce 
 me to ask for her address. It is quite necessary 
 that I speak with her." 
 
 " I regret enormously, but I am as helpless as 
 Monsieur le Prince. I have no idea where Made- 
 moiselle has gone." Victoire continued to shake 
 her head and smile. 
 
 " Very unfortunate, Mademoiselle, but it would be 
 a favor never to be forgotten if you could give me a 
 suggestion, an opinion." 
 
 " Non. I am quite puzzled, a mere baby. There 
 is San Diego. Does Monsieur le Prince think Made- 
 moiselle is at San Diego? Hardly," she answered 
 herself. 
 
 " I agree, Mademoiselle." 
 
 "It may be that she is at Santa Cruz. Non? 
 Monsieur le Prince is quite right. Tiens! There 
 is a little place called White Springs in the foothills 
 of the Sierras very quiet, remote, with a great deal 
 of spring- water for the health. It belongs to an old 
 
 cnisinier of the Peyton family. Is it possible, Mon- 
 
 frll 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 sieur le Prince, that Mademoiselle is there drinking 
 the water?" 
 
 " Very probable, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Vraiment? One travels several hours by train 
 and almost two days by stage. It is a long journey. 
 Does Monsieur le Prince think Mademoiselle has 
 gone so far? " 
 
 " I am sure of it, Mademoiselle." 
 
 Victoire bent her eyebrows into a bow and re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Monsieur le Prince knows Mademoiselle may not 
 be at White Springs." 
 
 As Ruspoli departed he gave Victoire a twenty- 
 dollar gold piece. She held it in the palm of her 
 hand, looking first at it and then at him. Bewilder- 
 ment was in her expression. 
 
 " For what ? " asked she. 
 
 " You were most kind, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " It is too much, for remember, I told Monsieur le 
 Prince nothing." 
 
 Ruspoli saluted with ceremony. 
 
 212 
 
Chapter XIX 
 THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 .SSENGERS going to White Springs 
 quitted the car at Hopeville. The first 
 train left Oakland at seven o'clock. It 
 was the one Ruspoli took. There were but three or 
 four occupants of the coach. He went into the 
 smoker to enjoy a cigarette. Stryne was the only 
 other traveler. On the day the socialist drove with 
 Theodosia she had requested him to cut the Italian. 
 It was a new reason for disliking the Prince. How- 
 ever, the two men received each other with a mode- 
 rate show of cordiality. 
 
 There was mutual contempt existing between 
 them by nature. Had it not been that each resolved 
 to discover whatever Miss Peyton found interesting 
 in the other, they would have separated immediately. 
 So the rivals sat facing one another, each endeavoring 
 to make the other out. Until noon they discussed 
 in Italian impersonal European topics. The train 
 neared Hopeville and the Prince wondered that 
 
 Stryne had not left the car. He was the first to re- 
 
 213 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 fer to the present and speak of the accident of their 
 traveling together. 
 
 " It is but a short while before election day, and I 
 thought you had finished campaigning in the country. 
 Your party has surely won. Further work must be 
 unnecessary." 
 
 "We can never be certain of anything in politics," 
 answered Stryne. "A campaign is never finished 
 until the night before election. Even then an acci- 
 dent may change results at the last moment." 
 
 The brakeman called out Hopeville. Ruspoli arose 
 quickly, shook hands with Stryne, and said : 
 
 u I am sorry, Signore, but we part here. I take 
 the stage to go up in the mountains to visit some 
 friends. All possible success in your elections, 
 Signore." 
 
 " Then we shall be companions still farther, for I 
 too, take the stage at Hopeville." 
 
 There was disappointment in the manner of both, 
 for they felt that their journey should have ended at 
 that station. Yet they grimly continued conversa- 
 tion as the stage ascended the narrow road, winding 
 up the hills which looked down upon fertile, prosper- 
 ous, yellow and green valleys. Time passed as 
 they counted varieties of wild flowers, an inexhausti- 
 ble subject in the country of California. As the 
 
 supper hour and night approached both lapsed into 
 
 214 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 silence and unreservedly wondered what the end of 
 the journey was to be. 
 
 They stayed at Pine Bluff that night and each 
 left orders to be called for the first stage. Still the 
 terminus of the trip was not mentioned. By noon 
 the following day they ceased discussing the flora, 
 altho its beauty increased with the wildness of the 
 landscape. Ten and twenty differently colored 
 flowers in the space of a yard no longer interested 
 them. 
 
 From four o'clock in the afternoon until seven at 
 night was a continuous descent of the mountain to 
 White Springs. There was but one other stopping 
 place for the stage, Sulphur Springs, five miles 
 farther into the valley, the terminus of the road. 
 There was a dismal silence. Stryne wondered whom 
 Ruspoli knew at Sulphur Springs. The Prince raged 
 at the double perfidy of Victoire. At last the social- 
 ist climbed to the driver's seat and talked with him. 
 
 Half an hour before White Springs was reached, 
 Ruspoli inquired after his luggage. The socialist 
 made no mention of his. The driver whipped his 
 horses into speed worthy of the approach to the 
 White Springs Inn, where he knew the maid would 
 be awaiting him. 
 
 The few boarders of the fall season were sitting on 
 the porch. Theodosia in a white muslin gown recog- 
 
 21 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 nized Stryne from a distance and waved her handker- 
 chief. The stage approached with a dash, and a 
 dramatic sawing on the reins to check the fiery 
 animals. They came to a standstill. Theodosia 
 stepped to the side of the driver's seat, held out her 
 hand to the socialist, and said : 
 
 "I'm so glad you are here, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 " It is only for business, I am sorry to say. I am 
 on my way to Sulphur Springs to pass the night. I 
 go back in the morning." 
 
 " How naughty ! I wrote you to come here. This 
 is only a coincidence, then ? Such a disappoint- 
 ment ! I felt I must get away from town for a while, 
 and, altho I have been here but for a day, I am so 
 much better. Can you not stay twenty- four hours ? 
 To-morrow will be Sunday, you know." 
 
 " I am unable to remain a minute, Miss Peyton. 
 The stage is now leaving. Good-by." 
 
 Meanwhile Ruspoli disappeared into the dining- 
 room. When he returned to the hotel office he 
 passed directly to his room to dress. When fin- 
 ished he sought Theodosia, but she had retired early. 
 He must wait until morning. 
 
 They both arose before seven ; Miss Peyton be- 
 cause she had slept enough, and Ruspoli for the 
 reason that anxiety and restlessness hinder repose. 
 
 The Prince traversed the porches of the inn and 
 216 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 then struck out to explore the paths leading through 
 the shrubbery and natural park surrounding the 
 springs. He walked several miles, and, returning to 
 the hotel, found Theodosia in a white linen gown, 
 without a hat, the sun's rays illuminating her pale 
 yellow hair. As she approached the large spring, 
 Ruspoli dropped the cup from which he was drinking 
 and waited for her to recognize him. There was no 
 surprise nor pleasure in her eyes, merely a stiffening 
 of the muscles of her body. The Prince uncovered 
 his head. 
 
 " So you are here," said she simply. 
 
 Ruspoli bowed. Theodosia drank a glass of spring 
 water gushing from the ground. Then she looked at 
 him again and said : " I suppose you came last night. 
 I understand some things now." 
 
 Ruspoli was silent and determined to force her to 
 converse. 
 
 She sipped more water. " I see you took my ad- 
 vice, Prince Ruspoli. You have turned detective 
 after all. Whom did you bribe ? " 
 
 " No one, Signorina." 
 
 Theodosia ceased drinking water and came close 
 to him, the color rising in her cheeks, the pupils of 
 her eyes giving out flashes, her hair waving wrath- 
 fully in the breeze. " Speak the truth, Prince Rus- 
 poli. How did you know I was here? " 
 
 217 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " How did Stryne know you were here, Signo- 
 rina? " 
 
 " Of course you are curious man's curiosity," 
 sneered she. 
 
 "Not curious, Signorina; but since you ask so 
 many questions, have I not the privilege of one? " 
 
 Theodosia placed her hands behind her and raised 
 her chin in the air defiantly, showing her soft, 
 rounded, white neck. " It is not often, Prince Rus- 
 poli, that I gratify curiosity, but I will tell you that 
 Mr. Stryne came here because I wrote asking him, 
 because I wanted him. Why he went away is evi- 
 dent. He thought I had invited you also. If you 
 had not come he would be here now, this minute." 
 
 " I am glad I came, Signorina." 
 
 Theodosia glanced at the Italian with wrath and 
 hurled her cup of water past him into the bushes. 
 
 " Do not punish the cup, Signorina. Punish me. 
 I submit." 
 
 Ruspoli moved toward Theodosia. " You are very 
 beautiful in the sunlight, Signorina." 
 
 " Prince Ruspoli," commanded she, stamping her 
 foot, "never again dare tell me I am beautiful." 
 
 " I must speak the truth, even tho it displease you. 
 You are charming when you are angry and when you 
 weep the only woman I ever saw who could bear 
 the test." 
 
 3X8 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 Theodosia walked quickly past him into a path 
 leading to another spring. She did not glance at the 
 Prince. Each time she placed her foot on the earth 
 it was with a stamp. In her simple white linen 
 gown, her hands straight at her sides, tears clinging 
 to her lashes, she looked like a tempestuous school- 
 girl. Ruspoli, wearing a blue flannel morning suit 
 and a white cap, followed her at a safe distance. 
 Finally Theodosia turned on her heel and said in 
 Italian, " You have no pride, have you ? " 
 
 " No, Signorina. " 
 
 " You have no self-respect." 
 
 "Just a little." 
 
 " No, Prince, if you had you would not go into a 
 place where you were not invited, where you were 
 forbidden, where you are not wanted." 
 
 Ruspoli winced. " Pardon. I was not invited, 
 I was forbidden, but I was wanted, Signorina." 
 
 "The landlord?" suggested she. 
 
 "No, you, Signorina." 
 
 Theodosia laughed aloud. " I wanted you ? Why, 
 then, did I invite Mr. Stryne? " 
 
 "As an antidote to me, Signorina," answered he, 
 and she wondered at the sudden determination that 
 hardened his features. 
 
 " Pray, Prince Ruspoli, why did I come here if I 
 
 wished to see you ? " 
 
 219 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Because you were ill. You are, are you not ? " 
 
 "I am not ill. I came here solely to avoid 
 you." 
 
 " And you desire to escape me because you love 
 me." 
 
 " I refuse to discuss anything so utterly stupid as 
 the possibility of my loving you," answered Theo- 
 dosia as she walked rapidly in silence up a hill. 
 
 " It is more than a possibility, Signorina. It is a 
 fact." 
 
 Theodosia shot a look of scorn over her shoulder. 
 They passed from the crest of the hill into a ravine 
 which seemed to lead to a road. They followed the 
 path until it came to an end and found themselves in 
 a mazy cluster of shrubbery. In Miss Peyton's 
 endeavor to regain her way, she turned to Ruspoli 
 and said : " I am lost. Can you take me back? " 
 
 " I was yielding to your guidance, Signorina, but 
 I will try." 
 
 It was some minutes before they were disentangled 
 from the thicket, and then Theodosia 's hair was 
 snarled with leaves and bits of brush. When they 
 reached a clearing she asked : " Can you see the way ? 
 I am bewildered. I can't tell east from west. We 
 wandered from the path so far. Do you know where 
 it is, Prince?" 
 
 " It's over the knoll there, Signorina. But let us 
 
 220 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 sit here under the trees while you rest. It makes 
 you very tired to be so naughty." 
 
 Theodosia could scarcely breathe for exhaustion, 
 and she yielded to Ruspoli's entreaties to sit on the 
 grass. He lay at her feet and she looked out on the 
 radiantly green hills surrounding them. He turned 
 his back to the view of the scenery and gazed at 
 her. 
 
 She rested a moment and sprang up saying : " Let 
 us go back. I don't feel safe here." 
 
 Ruspoli walked in the direction indicated, followed 
 by the girl. Then he turned to her. He said noth- 
 ing, but his look expressed confusion. There was 
 no path. 
 
 " Where is the way ? " cried she in alarm. 
 
 "Just a little farther in this direction, Signorina, 
 by those bushes." 
 
 They went around to the side of the hill and here 
 was only brush covering the hillside. They returned 
 to their starting point. The Italian was calm and 
 Theodosia was in a tempest. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that you are no more 
 observant than a woman? Are we lost? " 
 
 " Of course not, Signorina. Do not be alarmed, I 
 beg. Sit down and rest." 
 
 " I will not be calm a minute until I find my way 
 back." 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " I took the wrong path. I see the correct one 
 now, Signorina. It is there at the right." 
 
 It was necessary to descend the perpendicular side 
 of a small ravine leading in the direction indicated. 
 Ruspoli braced his feet on the bank and held out 
 his hand for her to take. 
 
 " Now you must put your arm about my neck," 
 said he. 
 
 " You are doing this purposely, Prince Ruspoli. I 
 can descend fifteen feet alone, even if the slope is 
 vertical." 
 
 Ruspoli did not insist, but quickly slid to the bot- 
 tom. Theodosia followed and her boot slipped. She 
 rolled down the embankment into Ruspoli 's arms. 
 Her gown was soiled, her hands and face were 
 bruised, and her temper was rising. The Prince 
 made no effort to detain her as she rushed way from 
 him, exclaiming : " It is all your fault. An Ameri- 
 can could not be lost like this." 
 
 " I followed my guide, Signorina," answered he 
 patiently. 
 
 They walked several rods the length of the ravine, 
 and Ruspoli broke the brush ahead of him with his 
 hand. It was the first time Theodosia had thought 
 him strong. They climbed twenty feet toward the 
 summit of the hill, the thorny bushes closing behind 
 
 them. Ruspoli was bending forward when Theodosia 
 
 223 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 heard a low rattle. An instant later he said softly, 
 "Go to the bottom quickly." Then he picked up 
 several rocks, and, hurling them at something on the 
 ground, hastily followed her. 
 
 " What was it ? " asked she. 
 
 " Only a rattlesnake, Signorina. " 
 
 " Then let us go back and kill it." 
 
 " No, there are too many of them. We'll return to 
 our starting place. " 
 
 Often losing her balance she stumbled over boul- 
 ders and bushes in scrambling through the ravine. 
 Ruspoli suggested, " If you will take my arm, Signo- 
 rina, you can walk with safety. " 
 
 Theodosia sullenly made her way alone, aided by a 
 stick. They reached the first vertical ascent. Rus- 
 poli paused and asked, " How do you purpose get- 
 ting to the top, Signorina? " 
 
 She did not know. 
 
 " There is but one way, and it is for me to carry 
 you." 
 
 She glanced indignantly at the Italian and made 
 the effort aided only by a cane. She fell again, 
 breaking the stick. There were no more to be had. 
 Then she dug her heels into the ground and climbed 
 on her hands and knees. Her failure was still more 
 ignominious. 
 
 Ruspoli, looking at her, smiled, shook his head, 
 223 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCM 
 
 and said, " Poor, obstinate Signorina. How much 
 trouble you make yourself ! Will you let me carry 
 you?" 
 
 " No," said she, seating herself on a rock. He 
 took a position opposite her. 
 
 " I have no hat. The sun has given me a head- 
 ache. My hair is snarled. My hands are bleeding. 
 My face is bruised, all because you are an impracti- 
 cal Latin. Do you suppose Paul Stryne could be 
 lost like this ? " 
 
 It was the first time the Prince showed impatience. 
 His eyes flamed like fire at night. His teeth were 
 pressed together. " Do not talk to me of him, 
 Signorina. I will not endure it. You shall never 
 go back if you do." 
 
 " You brought me here purposely to torture me 
 into saying 'I love you.' " 
 
 " It was not necessary. You do love me. You 
 told me so night before last." 
 
 " I assured you positively I did not, Prince Ruspoli." 
 
 He answered her with a scornful shrug : " Words, 
 words, mere words, which I usually doubt, for they 
 are so often false ; but heart beats, pulse throbs, and 
 lips do not lie, Signorina, and they were mine." 
 
 Unconsciously to her he approached and sat on the 
 rocks close by. Her eyes followed his as he took 
 
 her hand and he went on : " Of thy own free will 
 
 224 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 thou gavest them me and thou canst not have them 
 back. Every minute of the past two days thou hast 
 been here in my arms. I have drunk thy breath 
 and felt thy lips cold with passion until I am mad 
 as thou wert when we both kissed those violets." 
 
 " It was only the violets," said she softly. 
 
 " It was love, my life. Thou hast struggled against 
 it. Thou hast run away. Thou canst go no farther. 
 It is here confronting thee. Wilt thou accept it? " 
 
 "It was not love," answered she determinedly, 
 releasing her hand from his. 
 
 " What dyed thy cheeks with the color of thy blood, 
 but love, as I spoke just now? Thine eyes were 
 heavy. Thou didst hardly breathe as I recalled that 
 embrace. What did it mean ? " 
 
 " That you were eloquent. How can you talk of 
 all this when we do not know our way back ? It is 
 nearly noon." 
 
 " It is nothing to me if we never go back, unless 
 thou sayst what I long to hear. " 
 
 "Night will come," shuddered Theodosia. 
 
 " Dio mio" said he, closing his eyes. "That 
 would be splendid, like being alone in the world 
 with thee. " 
 
 " Tell me," asked Theodosia, " do you know how 
 
 to return home ? Can you discuss all these matters 
 
 when we are lost? Did you do this intentionally? " 
 
 15 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Perhaps. A siege is always cruel, but sometimes 
 it is necessary with a very obstinate enemy." 
 
 Theodosia asked, "Then I am to be starved 
 out?" 
 
 " That depends upon you. I fear it must come to 
 that." 
 
 " Would you dare keep me here after nightfall ? " 
 " Rattlesnakes are not pleasant, Signorina." 
 " I suppose you do not mind making a scandal." 
 " Not at all. People who love never do." 
 " You are as indifferent to me as to yourself, being 
 a dreadful man." 
 
 " I shall expect to suffer all that you do." 
 " Then I am to remain here until you decide I 
 may go back to the inn ? " asked she in desperation. 
 " No, Signorina. Only until you conclude that 
 you wish to return. Do not confuse them." 
 
 " I will never speak to you again, Prince Ruspoli," 
 said she slowly with emphasis. 
 " Say, rather, until you wish to go home." 
 Then he arose and walked away from her, explored 
 the ravine, the sides of the hill, always keeping within 
 call but quite ignoring her. Three o'clock came and 
 he returned and found her sitting in the same posi- 
 tion. Her straight brown brows were bent into a 
 frown. At four o'clock the shadows crept down 
 
 into the ravine. Five o'clock and in the dell it was 
 
 226 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 almost dark. Ruspoli came back and Theodosia was 
 lying on the ground weeping piteously. 
 
 He bent over her and touched her hair. Sobs 
 convulsed her frame, and unresisting she allowed 
 him to carry her in his arms up the steep ascent. 
 Then he removed his coat and placed her thereon. 
 Ruspoli went to the spring and returned with his 
 handkerchief wet, and bathed her hands and face. 
 
 Presently he whispered, " Signorina, do you wish 
 to go home ? The path is not six feet behind us. 
 We are all beasts, we men. Dio, to think I could 
 make you suffer ! My atonement is I can never ask 
 your pardon." 
 
 Theodosia arose and walked feebly and humbly by 
 Ruspoli 's side. At last she took his arm. His 
 glance told her of his gratitude. " You are very 
 tired, Signorina." 
 
 Theodosia nodded her head. They ascended the 
 hill, the highest of the group, and looked down upon 
 the valleys surrounding them. The sun was shin- 
 ing in the west. It was clear day on the summit. 
 Hunger, fatigue, and alarm had quite unnerved 
 Theodosia, and she could scarcely restrain sobs. 
 Her resolution was sadly limp. A fallen tree barred 
 their way. Instead of endeavoring to climb over it, 
 she seated herself on the log, her curls falling over 
 
 her face and hiding it from view. Ruspoli solemnly 
 
 227 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 sat by her side and watched every motion. Theo- 
 dosia's head rested on her knees. Finally the Prince 
 asked : " What do you wish, Signorina ? What shall 
 it be? Command me." 
 
 Her tears had dried. Only a quivering of the 
 lips told of her past storm, as she looked straight in 
 front of her and spoke to him in a delicate thread of 
 her natural voice : " You compel me, Prince Ruspoli, 
 to say what should be quite obvious to you and un- 
 necessary for me to explain. You have spoken to 
 me of love and deified it like a pagan. I suppose 
 you would be greatly shocked if you were told that 
 you are not a man of honor, that you deliver rhapso- 
 dies on love when you have none to offer, for you 
 understand as well as I, that your heart, your words, 
 and your body belong to the state as much as those 
 of your cousin the King of Italy. You have no love 
 to give, Prince Ruspoli, that is not dishonor to both 
 of us." 
 
 Theodosia looked squarely at him as she uttered 
 the last sentence. Ruspoli 's eyes brightened, as 
 hope took up its abode in them. 
 
 " But if I abandon all for thee, Signorina. If I 
 offer the best and most honest love a gentleman can 
 give. It is not uncommon. Don John of Austria, 
 not many years ago, gave up his right of succession 
 
 for a woman." 
 
 228 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE WOOD 
 
 " Not one sacrifice for me, Prince Ruspoli." 
 
 "If I insist?" 
 
 " I refuse. " 
 
 "Signorina, dearest lady, if the state will that 
 thou belong to me, what dost thou say ? " 
 
 "The state will refuse." 
 
 " Ah, no. I must go to San Francisco imme- 
 diately. I see new avenues opening. There is my 
 mother, my cousin's wife, the best and noblest lady in 
 the world, and a thousand friends. To think of thee 
 as one of us, as mine mine. Dio! How the word 
 thrills my heart. I can not breathe for uttering it. 
 I go to San Francisco to-night, Signorina, and all 
 that language can express shall be sent to Italy. If, 
 after all, the state wills, the King commands, what 
 says my lady given of the gods, Theodosia ? " 
 
 She was mute. 
 
 "Is it no, my life? Tell me." He was peering 
 into her face to read her thoughts. She plucked a 
 violet growing by her side, and pressed it to her lips. 
 He took it quickly from her and crushed it with 
 kisses. Then he knelt as at the feet of the madonna, 
 and taking her hand said, " I, Alessandro, here under 
 the blue sky in God's presence, vow to be thine 
 always unto the end, Theodosia." Then he touched 
 her fingers lightly to his lips and added, " This is our 
 
 betrothal." 
 
 229 
 
Chapter XX 
 THEODOSIA TORMENTS HER LOVER 
 
 >N learning of Ruspoli's arrival at White 
 Springs and before meeting the Italian, 
 Miss Peyton wrote Stryne, freeing herself 
 from blame for the Prince's presence. Since the 
 leader of the Working Men, at Theodosia's request, 
 had left his campaign at the critical moment, he 
 returned to San Francisco in no very good humor. 
 
 The antipathy of Stryne for the nobleman was 
 inexpressibly aggravated by this fruitless journey. 
 He felt that he had been tricked by Nob Hill. 
 When again he spoke before his men, his words bit 
 into their ears with the acid of his first speeches. 
 Disappointment at not seeing the lady of his quest 
 lashed his vehement energy into a storm, which, 
 sweeping over the city, was certain to elect the 
 nominees of his party. 
 
 Altho Theodosia was still at the springs and they 
 had no other friends in common, the socialist encoun- 
 tered the Prince by accident every day. Each was 
 repellant to the other, and yet they were mutually 
 
 interested. They preferred not to meet, altho it 
 
 230 
 
THEODOSIA TORMENTS HER LOVER 
 
 seemed inevitable. There is a hidden reason which 
 the sphinx, Life, refuses to divulge why two men at 
 enmity must continually confront each other and aug- 
 ment the hatred existing between them. 
 
 Theodosia returned to town three days before the 
 elections were to occur. She was interested unto 
 the marrow of her bones in the results, and felt that 
 she must be where she could learn the first returns. 
 She knew that with success any career which a 
 republic can give was possible for Stryne. Some- 
 times she imagined that her own future instead 
 of his was to be decided by the voters of Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 Two days before election she was on her way to 
 the park for a ride. She wore a black habit, the 
 skirt narrowly escaping the ground, and a high, 
 glossy hat, around which was draped a white veil, 
 that waved behind her with her hair. She was ac- 
 companied by Adele Whiting and Percy Oglethorpe. 
 When they passed the Working Men's Headquarters 
 near the sand-lot, they met Stryne. He was leaving 
 the building. Theodosia shook hands with him from 
 her horse's back. 
 
 " You can not fail, Mr. Stryne. We shall not let 
 you. Your men simply must succeed." 
 
 " They will, Miss Peyton. It is inevitable. I 
 
 had not had unbroken sleep in a month until last 
 
 231 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 night. The battle has been fought and won. I feel 
 like taking a holiday." 
 
 " Come to see me, since you are so much at 
 leisure." 
 
 After the adieux they rode rapidly to the park. 
 When they had trotted several miles in the invigora- 
 ting November air, they were joined by another rider 
 on a sleek, shining black horse. It was the Prince, 
 who saw them from a distance and overtook them. 
 Naturally Adele Whiting and Oglethorpe rode on 
 ahead, while Ruspoli and Theodosia fell behind. 
 
 "You came back to town sooner than you ex- 
 pected, Signorina, " was his first remark, for her treat- 
 ment of him was as formal as when they first met. 
 
 "Yes, I returned yesterday." 
 
 The Prince's horse started with the rider. Joy, 
 which had been so clearly written on his face, was 
 changed into sadness. Theodosia looked at him in 
 admiration. He wore a tan riding suit, and his 
 shoulders never seemed so broad nor his waist so 
 small as then. Sitting erect on his horse, his finely 
 sculptured nose and chin, his dead, dark eyes, encir- 
 cled with heavy shadows, his clear olive skin, his 
 compressed lips, his manner, the inexpressible, unseen 
 something which everywhere marks a man's station 
 all contributed to the pleasure he gave her 
 
 eyes. 
 
 232 
 
THEODOSIA TORMENTS HER LOVER 
 
 " Is it right, Signorina, that you be in town a day 
 and I unaware of it ? " 
 
 "I find it most natural. " 
 
 Their horses were walking very slowly. " I never 
 know where to place you, Signorina. I think I 
 understand you, and directly there is something new 
 for me to learn. " 
 
 " Perhaps that is why you have been so con- 
 stant." 
 
 Ruspoli ignored the suggestion. "When I saw 
 you, Signorina, I forgot everything but that last 
 moment when we were alone together on the hill. 
 You will probably think me presumptuous, but I 
 hoped you returned from the Springs to surprise me. 
 Now I find you have been here a day. I might have 
 known better/* 
 
 " No, Prince. I came back to hear the first results 
 of election. " 
 
 " Signorina ! " exclaimed he, breathing heavily. 
 
 " I am extremely interested, you know," added she 
 by way of explanation. 
 
 Ruspoli contracted his thick, black brows into a 
 frown, his teeth biting the interior of his under lip. 
 " Do not speak of it, I pray, Signorina," said he in a 
 gentle whisper, " I wrote you a letter to-day. It was 
 sent to White Springs." 
 
 " It will be four days before I receive it. " 
 233 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " That is too long to wait until I tell you its con- 
 tents." 
 
 Theodosia saw his chest rise and fall quickly. 
 
 She knew all he had written. " Signorina," said 
 he slowly, impressively, " I have news from Italy." 
 
 She had read it in his voice. 
 
 Theodosia touched her horse gently with the crop 
 and he trotted rapidly. They were near Oglethorpe 
 and Miss Whiting. 
 
 " Signorina, when may I see you to give it you ? 
 This afternoon, after we shall have ridden home ? " 
 
 " No, Prince. I shall be too tired." 
 
 "This evening, then, Signorina," pleaded he. 
 
 His love was in his eyes, on his lips. She was 
 childish enough to wish to know the end of a story, 
 yet womanish enough to be perverse about it, "I 
 have an engagement for this evening with Mr. 
 Stryne, Prince Ruspoli. To-morrow evening if it 
 suits you." 
 
 Theodosia desired a sequel to her romance. 
 
 234 
 
Chapter XXI 
 THE GAGE OF BATTLE 
 
 was clear to Ruspoli that Theodosia's an- 
 swer was an evasion. Let him try with 
 entire will, he could not refrain from walk- 
 ing to the sand-lot that evening. For the first time 
 he experienced pleasure in seeing Stryne. He was 
 there in his accustomed place, the same eager-eyed, 
 open-mouthed, mixed throng of laborers and fanatics 
 surrounding him. 
 
 The Prince was so happy to find that the socialist 
 was not with Theodosia that he approached him 
 closely and listened attentively. Warmed by the 
 pleasure of the surprise, he even concluded that the 
 agitator might be a charlatan, a demagog, but he was 
 not a bad fellow. 
 
 Stryne had not altered his dress, speech, nor manner 
 since his prosperity. He stood before his audience, 
 the future master of the State of California and the 
 City of San Francisco, and there was not a shade of 
 exultation to be detected. The Strynites keenly ob- 
 served him and awaited some sign of arrogance. He 
 was dressed in his blue flannel shirt and trousers. 
 
 2 35 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 The red bandanna handkerchief encircled his full, 
 thick, strong neck. His black felt hat and long blue 
 cloak were lying by his side. 
 
 In spite of all his vehemence there was the same 
 great reserve in his poise that had never been rip- 
 pled. Months of fatigue in the political campaign 
 took the ruddy health from his countenance and hol- 
 lowed the setting of his gray eyes. His face was 
 somewhat thinner, but otherwise he h? 1 not altered 
 since the working men rallied about him and his cry, 
 " The Chinese must go. " 
 
 Meanwhile, altho the Mongolians were still the 
 issue, the working men had largely forgotten the 
 evils of "coolie" labor; they merely knew they 
 were to vote within two days to decide if Stryne was 
 to be their Legislature, their Mayor, their Governor, 
 their United States Senator the next boss of 
 California. 
 
 When the speaker's gaze met that of the Italian, 
 it was so steady and unchanged that Ruspoli imag- 
 ined Stryne did not see him in spite of the fact that 
 he looked straight at him. The socialist was giving 
 forth in new form his beliefs which had rung into 
 their ears since the beginning of his career. They 
 listened not to the words but to the music of the 
 voice. They felt the touch of the man's presence. 
 
 They were unconscious that he uttered the same 
 
 236 
 
THE GAGE OF BATTLE 
 
 thoughts repeatedly. Stryne held them not only by 
 his own power, but the shadow of that which was to 
 be his within two days. The strength of the State 
 was in his personality. 
 
 He was reviewing the especial evils of the govern- 
 ment of California, local corruption, when Ruspoli 
 arrived. He continued in the same strain for several 
 minutes. Then gradually, before the audience or the 
 Prince realized it, he spoke of the faults of national 
 government, particularly in the countries of Europe. 
 Passing lightly over evils existing in France, Eng- 
 land, Germany, and Russia, he came to Italy and 
 drove straight at it with a purpose. 
 
 Then Ruspoli realized that Stryne had observed 
 him. 
 
 "United Italy! Free Italy!" shouted he. "What 
 a mockery! United? United in one thing only, 
 and that the desire to kill their King. Can there be 
 union while there are a million subjects plotting at 
 any cost to overturn the throne ? 
 
 " Free Italy is a word the poets use. Can freedom 
 exist where the King lives in a palace, squanders 
 three millions a year, while a quarter of the popula- 
 tion are mendicants, begging pennies from travelers ? 
 Can freedom prosper when a libertine is on the 
 throne? Can a people be better than their God- 
 given ruler? Can liberty thrive while one root or 
 
 237 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 branch of the corrupt house of Savoy is allowed to 
 live?" 
 
 The Prince was accompanied by the Italian Consul 
 Roma and a Russian naval officer, Lieutenant Dal- 
 garkoff. They both understood sufficient English 
 to catch the significance of Stryne's words, so they 
 regarded Ruspoli intently while the socialist hurled 
 phrases at him. No sooner was there a pause than 
 the Prince in one quick breath of Italian asked, " Is 
 that for me, S ignore? " 
 
 For the first time Stryne appeared to observe 
 Ruspoli. " You are the house of Savoy ? Enough 
 said." 
 
 The incident passed almost unobserved. Stryne 
 inveighed against monarchies and monarchial tenden- 
 cies and finished by again warning his followers how 
 to vote. As he was leaving the platform, Lieutenant 
 Dalgarkoff and Consul Roma met him and asked, in 
 the name of Prince Alessandro Ruspoli of the House 
 of Savoy, to withdraw what he had said. 
 
 " Gentlemen, one can not retract the truth," an- 
 swered Stryne. 
 
 "Then he must fight for it," responded Roma dra- 
 matically. He was a tall, stout man, who, in spite 
 of his red face and corpulence, still retained some of 
 the grace of his youth when he had been a great 
 gallant. 
 
THE GAGE OF BATTLE 
 
 Stryne bowed. " Of course, gentlemen. At any 
 time and place you wish. " 
 
 " Our friend, Prince Ruspoli, has commanded me 
 to say that in our own country, owing to your differ- 
 ence in rank, it would be impossible for him to meet 
 you upon the field of honor, but since he is in a 
 republic, for this occasion he lays aside his preroga- 
 tive and accords you the favor of an encounter with 
 any weapons you choose." 
 
 " Prince Ruspoli is very good," answered Stryne 
 coldly. " There is no weapon with which I am un- 
 familiar, gentlemen." 
 
 " Prince Ruspoli would like to know if a meeting 
 to-morrow morning at sunrise, near the San Mateo 
 County line, will suit your convenience." 
 
 " It is the day before election," hesitated Stryne. 
 
 "Then you would like a delay? " asked the Rus- 
 sian disdainfully. 
 
 " By no means," answered the socialist readily. 
 " The details you may arrange with Mr. McCann and 
 Mr. Van Ness. By all means let the meeting occur 
 as soon as possible. To-morrow at sunrise will be a 
 most convenient hour. It will not interfere with my 
 work for the remainder of the day." 
 
 Political economists have dissected Strynism in 
 California. Historians have fixed his proper place 
 in the story of the State. Poets of the lowly have 
 
 239 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PR1XCE 
 
 sung of his noble virtue, but no one has recorded the 
 splendid grace of his heroic sacrifice when he, in 
 those last words for honor's sake, cast back to grim 
 destiny all that he had his fortune, his life. Then 
 he bravely, fearlessly stood staring into the nothing- 
 ness of the future. Yet he gave up his all with the 
 grace of a gallant who tosses a rose to the queen of 
 the dance and wafts after it a kiss. 
 
 240 
 
Chapter XXII 
 THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 JHEODOSIA had passed the evening alone 
 with her father. She wore a simple cream 
 lace gown with crimson roses in her hair. 
 Her shoulders and arms under the soft light of the 
 candelabra were like white satin. Colonel Peyton 
 and his daughter dressed with greatest care when 
 they were to be alone together, and the father espe- 
 cially admired her in her lace frock. The Colonel, 
 with his closely cropped white beard, was very hand- 
 some and imposing in evening clothes. He never 
 was more agreeable than at the head of his own 
 table, for he delighted in offering Theodosia the 
 same stately courtesy, sadly old-fashioned at present, 
 which he had shown her mother. 
 
 Colonel Peyton was taking his after-dinner doze. 
 Theodosia scanned the pages of new magazines and 
 books rapidly, enjoying thoroughly the pleasure of 
 being quite alone. It occurred to her at this moment 
 that she wasted a great deal of time with trivial 
 people and events. 
 
 Paul Stryne's card was brought her half after nine, 
 1.6 241 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 She recalled her words to Ruspoli that afternoon. 
 Jest had really become earnest. The socialist was 
 shown into the library where she was sitting. 
 
 " It is the first time you ever came to see me unso- 
 licited, Mr. Stryne. Perhaps after election day this 
 will occur more often." 
 
 His white face rebuked her conventional speech. 
 He was dressed in his customary blue suit with the 
 red of his handkerchief showing about his collar. 
 Apparently he was .oblivious equally to her own and 
 his garments. It was the first time Theodosia had 
 seen Stryne overcome by an emotion stronger than 
 he. 
 
 "Do not talk lightly, Miss Peyton/' said he ear- 
 nestly, " for I am very serious to-night. I feel that 
 great changes are coming." 
 
 " So they are, Mr. Stryne. Day after to-morrow 
 Mr. Van Ness and your entire ticket are to be 
 elected. Isn't it splendid? Do you know, I feel 
 proud of you ; I have a sort of interest in you as if 
 you were a part of my work, my own creation. You 
 are not, tho. I never could help you, for you would 
 not let me. But I tried hard, did I not? When 
 you are all-powerful and no longer refuse to be our 
 Governor or United States Senator, you will think of 
 me as some one who really wanted to do something 
 
 and could not. " 
 
 242 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 Stryne studied her expression and manner. 
 
 Theodosia chattered on, " When you are really the 
 boss of the whole world I never liked the word be- 
 fore, but I do now I am going to find some one who 
 needs a position and you shall give it me. You 
 must, for I want to be a sort of sub-boss. May I ? 
 It will be such fun, actually to know and have influ- 
 ence with a boss. But, Mr. Stryne, why do you not 
 sit down. Don't tell me that you are going to 
 remain but a second. Please do not try to be fash- 
 ionable." 
 
 Miss Peyton, I can not sit. I must stand on my 
 feet. I must move. My heart seems weak. I am 
 pretty nervous." 
 
 " Only to-day you were so calm and certain of vic- 
 tory, but as the time approaches the strain on the 
 nerves must be something dreadful." 
 
 Theodosia arose and stood in front of Stryne, look- 
 ing at him sympathetically. " I must leave this 
 house, Miss Peyton. I can not remain boxed up in 
 one or two or three or ten rooms. I need space, air, 
 distance. I must have action. I must walk or I 
 shall lose my reason." 
 
 Suddenly he turned to her and asked, " Will you 
 come with me? I need some one." 
 
 Theodosia motioned with both hands toward her 
 dinner dress. She hastily put on a long black wrap 
 
 2 43 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 which enveloped her completely. Then she said, 
 looking at Stryne understandingly, " Yes, I think 
 it best that you have some one with you." 
 
 They left the house and and he walked several 
 blocks in silence, dragging her along heedlessly. He 
 went with such speed that, exhausted and panting, 
 she exclaimed, "O Mr. Stryne, you must go more 
 slowly. This gait is too rapid. I have a pain in 
 my side." 
 
 They boarded a horse car. Before they had been 
 seated long Stryne left Theodosia and stood on the 
 platform. He returned just as they reached the end 
 of the line on the Point Lobos road. 
 
 "Come," said he, "let us go. I can't remain 
 longer in the car." 
 
 Theodosia was obedient to all of his whims, for she 
 felt unable to resist. She understood why, in less 
 than a year, he had gained control of California. It 
 was his untamable, invincible, indomitable will. The 
 girl started in the direction of the city. 
 
 "No," cried he, "not back to the town. That is 
 only for sleep. We can go there any time. For 
 life, freedom, let it be to the Cliff. We shall walk 
 there." 
 
 Miss Peyton looked at the hard blue sky, clouded 
 with purple and black. The moon could hardly show 
 her face. There was a sharp cold ocean breeze and 
 
 244 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 a possibility of rain. They could not see far ahead 
 in the darkness. 
 
 " Let us walk to the Cliff," again urged Stryne. 
 
 It was an impulse. It was imprudent. It was ex- 
 traorjlinary. It was dangerous. These were suffi- 
 cient reasons for Theodosia to consent. 
 
 During the first half hour they almost ran over 
 the level ground. The next thirty minutes their 
 speed slackened. Even Stryne's force began to give 
 way. They stood on the hill overlooking the vast, 
 roaring, black ocean. The moon had almost entirely 
 disappeared. Only great stretches of sand behind 
 them and at the side lighted the landscape. From 
 whichever direction they turned came the wind in 
 gusts. In the sky fearful clouds were meeting and 
 retreating with the chaos and thunder of contending 
 armies. 
 
 " Ah, one can breathe here ! " said Stryne, taking 
 off his hat. Theodosia was too fatigued for speech. 
 She turned her broad, fur collar up around her ears 
 and buried her hands in her pockets. They stopped 
 quite still and surveyed the scene surrounding them. 
 A light no larger than the flicker of a candle at the 
 top of Cliff House was the only touch of town in the 
 wildness before them. 
 
 They walked slowly down the hill, avoiding the 
 Cliff House, and ascending to the edge of the ocean. 
 
 245 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Several drops of cold water, sharp as thistles, fell, 
 scratching the soft cheeks of Theodosia. 
 
 " It is raining," said Stryne, somewhat alarmed. 
 
 "No matter if it is," answered she. "I wish I 
 were a sailor in nothing but storms of waves moun- 
 tains high. I am made of rather common earth, Mr. 
 Stryne, but if ever I am capable of anything above 
 the ordinary, it is in a tempest like this. You, I 
 fancy, are always lofty and noble. I am so only in 
 spurts. It needs some force like St. Peter's organ, 
 Wagner's music, or a great storm to lift me out of 
 my selfishness." 
 
 They walked up to where the wall of the Cliff 
 House shivered on the ocean beach. Then they 
 went back. Water no longer fell from the clouds. 
 Stryne considered carefully what Theodosia had said 
 before he answered : " Do not make the mistake, 
 Miss Peyton, of supposing that any one is very much 
 better or nobler than his neighbor. There are hideous 
 mysteries lying at the bottom of every sea. We all 
 have about the same number of black spots on us. 
 Some keep them a bit better covered than others. 
 That is all. I have not seen you often, but I know 
 you pretty well for all that, and I call you the most 
 remarkable woman I ever met. " 
 
 " Mr. Stryne, do not say that, or I shall think you 
 
 are laughing at me. You know I am a drone. I 
 
 246 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 never had a thought for any thing or person until we 
 met. You yourself spoiled my little endeavor at 
 doing something. My spasm gave out, and I am 
 what I always was and shall be, a woman with much 
 ambition, but lacking energy to fulfil it." 
 
 " What you say may all be true, yet I reassert you 
 are the most remarkable woman of my acquaintance, 
 not for what you are but for what you might become. 
 You do not realize that very few people have told you 
 the truth. There are always so many reasons why 
 you should be lied to. Ever at your elbow was a 
 sycophant with something tangible or intangible to 
 gain. No serviceable falsehood was neglected. You 
 are a miracle. You have developed amidst this at- 
 mosphere of time-serving, into a gentle, lovable 
 woman with a mind bursting with activity for another 
 life." 
 
 Theodosia was swept along with the rapid stream 
 of Stryne's utterance. 
 
 " I am not in the least unusual, but you do under- 
 stand my inclinations." 
 
 " What might you have become, Miss Peyton, had 
 you been cast into other circumstances, where 
 you must rely upon yourself, work for yourself? 
 Why, there is nothing you could not have accom- 
 plished." 
 
 The rain beat upon Theodosia's face as they walked 
 247 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 on the beach, yet she was unheeding. " Do you 
 think so? " asked she. 
 
 " It is not too late now, Miss Peyton. You are 
 twenty- two, just beginning life. You have half a 
 century more of existence. What are you going to 
 do with it ? " 
 
 " Waste it, I suppose, Mr. Stryne," said she, shak- 
 ing her head sadly. " What else can I do ? I am 
 like a blind man with talent for drawing. It is use- 
 less. No one can give me sight." 
 
 " You really want to see, Miss Peyton ? With all 
 your soul do you desire to act, to live all there is in 
 life, to be on the cap of the highest wave of every- 
 thing that occurs ? Do you want to escape the nar- 
 row, ruinous existence which will destroy your great- 
 ness just as surely as it continues ? Do you honestly 
 long to be Theodosia Peyton, the splendid heroic 
 woman lying dormant in Theodosia Peyton, the idler, 
 the coquette? Tell me." 
 
 The breakers were crashing at his feet. Barbs of 
 water were stinging her flesh and wetting the fluff of 
 yellow hair curling from her broad, low brow. His 
 back was toward the ocean, and she, looking up into 
 his face, answered : " Indeed, Mr. Stryne, you out- 
 line for me just what I wish to become, ff you have 
 the secret of how it can be accomplished, give it me." 
 
 " You are willing to shake off the indolence, the 
 248 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 falsehood, the conventions which oppress you ? Rec- 
 ollect it is a great deal I am going to ask you to do 
 and be." 
 
 " I'm willing to be anything," breathed she in 
 ecstasy. 
 
 Stryne led the way slowly to a group of boulders, 
 close to the shelter of the embankment of the Cliff. 
 They were seated on a low flat rock protected from 
 the wind and storm by one broader and higher. 
 Theodosia was equal to the severity of his gaze. 
 
 " Remember this, Miss Peyton," began he, delib- 
 erately striking a sharp emphasis on each word, " I 
 have never asked a man or woman what I should do. 
 More than that, when I decided upon action I consid- 
 ered no one. Do you believe it ? " 
 
 " You look like that sort of man, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 " You have the distinction, or whatever you may 
 call it, of being the only person who has swayed me 
 since my career began, which was not a year ago here 
 in San Francisco, as you imagine, but a decade since in 
 my brain. No one knew it but I. A trivial step in it 
 will be the election of my ticket, day after to-morrow." 
 
 Theodosia was very close to him. Elation closed 
 her throat as she asked eagerly, " Mr. Stryne, how 
 have I influenced you? " 
 
 " I can not tell you yet. It may be that you will 
 
 alter my entire life. That we shall both know later." 
 
 249 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 "I? I do not comprehend." 
 
 " You will in the future. All I can say now is 
 that I came to see you this evening to decide for me 
 what I shall do. Shall I leave San Francisco to- 
 morrow? Will you go with me? Do not speak 
 now. You said you wished to cut your way out of 
 the high hedge of conventions which separates you 
 from all that is worth while." 
 
 He gripped her small, soft, tapering hand in his 
 vise of steel. " I ask you, Miss Peyton, to be my 
 friend, my companion, my wife." 
 
 Theodosia would have withdrawn from him, but 
 he held her powerless with the one hand. " I did 
 not think of that method, Mr. Stryne," stammered 
 she. 
 
 " It is the only way." 
 
 " Your future ? The election day after to-morrow, 
 why leave them all ? " 
 
 " Because I have won. What more is there for 
 me to do ? I will make another career. You do 
 not realize it now, but you and I must be married. 
 We are bound absolutely together. We can not 
 escape it if we try. What will my men, who have 
 served me, think, if I make Colonel Peyton's daugh- 
 ter my wife ? I can not convince them that you be- 
 lieve with us. You represent directors of corpora- 
 tions, people who have liveried servants, their enemies. 
 
 250 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 In their eyes I shall be of that class. If I am to 
 have you, and I must have you, for we belong to 
 each other it is our right, our duty we must cut 
 loose from all these connections of yours." 
 
 " Where could we go ? " 
 
 H Anywhere and make more opportunities." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "They are in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, 
 London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, Rome, St. Petersburg, 
 in any place where there are great throngs of people 
 with grievances. We have only to choose a locality. 
 We shall be welcomed as liberators. It is we who 
 will do the rest. A whole life lies before us. I can 
 see it there awaiting us, radiant and gleaming." 
 
 "I suppose we could go abroad. The conditions 
 in Europe need so much improvement." 
 
 "There are as many wrongs in America, Miss 
 Peyton, and the people are more easily aroused to 
 action." 
 
 " Do you think we could succeed, Mr. Stryne ? " 
 questioned she, as if addressing her future the 
 sphinx of life. 
 
 " Look at the past year and ask yourself. What 
 have I done in that time ? I control the entire ma- 
 chinery of the State. More than that, there are 
 forty thousand men in California who have sworn 
 
 allegiance to me. I am greater in their eyes than 
 
 251 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 the State, the Nation. I can march at the head of 
 them, if I choose, to Washington. Our numbers 
 would increase at each step. Each of those men is 
 armed and would die for me. That is not rhetoric, 
 but the truth. Within six months I could have an 
 army that would wipe out the National Guard and all 
 our troops. Then it is for me to decide what I 
 would be. It only needs a man on a black horse, 
 provided that he be the right man." 
 
 Theodosia was exalted to the height of molding 
 the destiny of her country, an object which ever ap- 
 peals strongly to the ambitious American girl. It 
 seemed to her that she was just beginning to live. 
 
 " Do you think the conditons are ripe ? " 
 
 " The time is always fit, Miss Peyton. You have 
 not studied the conditions of your State, but when I 
 came, the people were merely suffering from the reac- 
 tion of a boom. Laborers were more prosperous 
 than in the east. There was no real reason for me 
 that lay outside of myself. Had I not come, the 
 working men of California never would have realized 
 that they had reason for complaint. I made Stryn- 
 ism in half an hour." 
 
 " It was wonderful, Mr. Stryne," said she, whisper- 
 ing as in a trance. " It is genius." 
 
 " Only my will, Miss Peyton. I was stronger than 
 all combined. I never yet found a force that can 
 
 252 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 resist my will. It grinds rock to powder and makes 
 meal of flint. You will not stand against it because 
 I love you and my love has the power of my will." 
 
 Stryne did not loosen his grip on her hand. Rain 
 was dripping from the clouds. It was a wrathful 
 night. Wild, white-maned waves broke at the base 
 of the Cliff House and made its foundation quiver 
 with fear. Theodosia felt herself growing weaker 
 and Stryne gaining in force as he said : " My heart, 
 my soul, my mind, my will, my fate demand you for 
 my comrade. I will not fawn or plead or whine like 
 a stage lover. Passion is not my life. It is action. 
 You will know to-morrow when we go away that 
 you are my destiny and I am yours." 
 
 Theodosia sighed. " I don't think I shall go, Mr. 
 Stryne." Both hands held her one. His eyes stared 
 at her from black caverns like a tiger's in darkness. 
 
 " You don't think you will go ? " thundered he ; 
 "what do you mean, Miss Peyton? Are you to be 
 nothing but a recollection of imbecility? Do you 
 dare play the coquette with me ? I am not the kind 
 of man that a woman like you can seek or encour- 
 age unless she be in earnest. Are you mad when 
 you say you don't think you will go? What is the 
 matter with you ? Is it that damnable Italian ? " 
 
 " You are crushing my hand/' 
 
 " Answer me, is it he? " 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " I'm afraid so, Mr. Stryne." 
 
 " A woman like you can say that ? Do you know 
 that if you become his wife without Humbert's con- 
 sent you are nothing but his mistress ? " 
 
 " But if the King allows it? " 
 
 " Grant the absurd possibility. What will you be? 
 The Princess Ruspoli, royal by a morganatic mar- 
 riage. Is that your ambition ? 
 
 " You do not dare to tell me that a woman of your 
 intelligence can love a ridiculous fellow with great 
 staring, meaningless, vacant, black eyes and a cour- 
 tier's bow. He is not a man or he would not be 
 dragged behind your carriage, fastened to your train 
 and walked upon for a year. I credit you, Miss Pey- 
 ton, with not being absurd. If it is not he, it is rank 
 you desire. Good God, I wouldn't rule Italy as a 
 gift. I would not waste my energy in tearing down 
 that miserable, shaky throne. If you must reign, 
 why not take something worthy of you ? England, 
 Russia, or America North or South ? You may have 
 your choice, and I will deliver it within the year." 
 
 The passion of the night, the ocean, the storm, his 
 voice and presence, swept her before it like water in 
 a gale. She believed all he said. 
 
 " What will society say, Mr. Stryne ? Even you 
 know nothing of your family." 
 
 " My people, Miss Peyton ? If the world asks for 
 2 54 
 
( l/N/VE 
 THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM \ 
 
 them, say L'Ouverture, Washington, Lincoln, Crom- 
 well, Mirabeau, Kossuth are my brothers, and Revo- 
 lution is my father." 
 
 " That is rather indefinite, is it not ? Society asks 
 so much more." 
 
 " Society ! Society ! You who are going to be 
 the consort empress of any kingdom you wish, allow 
 society to question ? Why do you not arise to the 
 dignity I offer? Miss Peyton, you are to be society. 
 Let us talk of that." 
 
 " It is all so sudden, like a dream of another 
 world," said she in bewilderment. 
 
 "Theodosia, come, rise." 
 
 Mechanically she stood in front of him. "To- 
 morrow at three we sail for New York." 
 
 Stryne held her away from him to watch her coun- 
 tenance. Almost fainting she fell forward into his 
 arms and cried : " If we are bound together as you 
 say, let us launch that rowboat and go wherever the 
 currents carry us. We may as well. Life is so 
 strange. What does it matter? " 
 
 "Theodosia, do not act like that," exclaimed he, 
 thrusting her out at arms' length. " Be a woman 
 worthy of what is yours. Strip off that coat." 
 
 He tore it from her and cast her hat aside. Her 
 hair clustered about her shoulders and brow like an 
 infant's. 
 
 255 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 "Take off those gloves," commanded he. Imme- 
 diately she obeyed him. Her drenched white frock 
 clung to her form. The train of her gown was 
 wound about her feet. Standing on the rocks in the 
 darkness, her white arms and shoulders dripping 
 with cold water, she was like the shadow of a woman 
 springing from the sea. 
 
 " Now stand by my side, bare arms and shoulders 
 to the tempest. Let it beat upon you, my wife, and 
 do not flinch. This is the way you and I must al- 
 ways be together." 
 
 " Cling to my hand or I shall faint," gasped she. 
 
 " Ah, this storm is divine, Theodosia," exclaimed 
 he, holding his face upward to the clouds. " Our 
 birth has taken place in it." 
 
 Theodosia reeled toward him but he held her erect. 
 "I am nothing but clay," she cried, "and you are 
 trying to make iron of me." 
 
 Stryne grabbed her in his arms to prevent her from 
 striking on the rocks. She was limp and unconscious. 
 He wrapped her in his long, heavy cape, and calling 
 a carriage from the Cliff House, he placed her inside 
 and gave her warm drinks. 
 
 When she regained consciousness they were on 
 their way to the city. Her cold, wet clothing had 
 been warmed by the heavy blankets enfolding her. 
 It seemed to Theodosia that she was recovering from 
 
THE BETROTHAL IN THE STORM 
 
 the effects of a narcotic. Altho she did not open 
 her eyes until she had recalled every incident of the 
 evening, she felt that he was sitting by her side, re- 
 garding her. They had begun to climb and descend 
 hills before she looked at him. As she expected, he 
 was watching for that sign of consciousness. 
 
 Her hands were inside the blankets. She felt with 
 relief that he could not touch her. Stryne's face was 
 coarse as she looked at him. His eyes were small 
 and cruel, his head and neck too large. In his ugli- 
 ness lay his power. Yet she recalled that during the 
 evening she had thought him handsome. 
 
 The carriage was closed. In town there were no 
 organ tones of the wind to excite her senses. The 
 black, raging clouds, the vast, tumbling, heaving, 
 roaring sea, the lightning playing above, arousing 
 her nervous imagination, were absent. Stryne him- 
 self was silent. Only the drizzling rain fell upon 
 her ear. The scene was as disenchanting as an 
 empty opera house after a performance of the Val- 
 kyrie. 
 
 Presently she closed her eyes to avoid Stryne's 
 gaze and sat back in her seat. He felt her pulse to 
 see if she was faint. Theodosia was happy that he 
 made no attempt to caress her. She almost shud- 
 dered as he touched her wrist. What folly it was to 
 
 fancy she could marry him ! No, he was merely a 
 *7 257 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 story to read, then to close the covers of the book 
 and to put it away forever. 
 
 The carriage stopped in front of her home. Stryne 
 clinched her wrists in his hands. He looked at her 
 intently and said : 
 
 "Remember, Theodosia, to-morrow at three the 
 South American steamer. I will come for you at 
 one. My entire life is staked upon your going. I 
 shall rely upon it." 
 
 His voice brought back the scene at the Cliff. 
 The possibility was not so remote as before he spoke. 
 Some of the storm's grandeur was in his being. 
 With his hands pressing her wrists, the blood was 
 forced back into her heart, her will was given up to 
 his. She was quite honest when she answered, " I 
 will be ready." 
 
 At the door she repeated the vow. The moon 
 shone brilliantly between the black clouds, and as he 
 stood uncovered, the band of scar was distinctly visi- 
 ble on his forehead. They parted in the same spot 
 where they met. He stood in a like attitude when 
 she first opened the door upon him. After all he 
 was not to be despised. 
 
 It was Stryne who watched the light in her cham- 
 ber turned out. He did not know that she cast 
 away all her clothing and went shuddering to sleep. 
 
Chapter XXIII 
 THE DUEL 
 
 NESS and all Stryne's political friends 
 used the most forceful arguments to dis- 
 suade the leader from a duel. The nomi- 
 nee for governor declined to serve as second the day 
 preceding elections. He reasoned that it would be 
 disastrous to him as well as to his chief. 
 
 " The time has passed for dueling in California, 
 Stryne. It will only mean the defeat of the entire 
 ticket if it occurs," declared Van Ness. "What if 
 something serious should happen ? If you were un- 
 fortunate enough to be wounded, our ticket would 
 be elected; but suppose Ruspoli should fall, every 
 candidate would be slaughtered. Delay until the 
 day following election, then I shall be happy to serve 
 you." 
 
 " You do not understand the situation, Van Ness. 
 I shall ask no favor of Ruspoli," said Stryne. " I 
 am fully prepared for any event. I am sorry you can 
 not act as my second, but the duel must take place 
 to-day. " 
 
 This was a conversation which occurred at two 
 259 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 o'clock the morning of the meeting. McCann had 
 served under every political flag and chief. He 
 never deserted his leader so long as there was hope 
 of success. He was very happy to make himself 
 useful to a man of Stryne's power. 
 
 " Philosopher " Picket, an erratic lawyer who ac- 
 quired his title through a useless and vague knowl- 
 edge of an infinity of topics, was chosen in Van 
 Ness's place. Picket offered no dissuasion, for he 
 was a swarthy Southerner of the type wearing a 
 broad-brimmed hat and long coat. He was always 
 armed, had assisted at many duels, and could con- 
 ceive of no other method of adjusting differences of 
 belief. He was familiar with the codes duello of 
 the United States, England, and the continent, and 
 was never happier and more at ease than when ar- 
 ranging a meeting between two gentlemen. 
 
 It was Picket who, at the interview between Con- 
 sul Roma and Lieutenant Dalgarkoff, led the conver- 
 sation, fixed upon the weapons, time, and place. 
 McCann merely listened, for he knew less about 
 dueling than anything else. The smell of powder 
 always startled him. 
 
 Ruspoli slept a little that night and Stryne did 
 not go to bed. He passed the remaining hours at 
 the Working Men's Headquarters, reading a diction- 
 ary. His friends cited this as an instance of his 
 
 260 
 
THE DUEL 
 
 wonderful coolness, but really it was an indication of 
 nervousness. When his mind strayed beyond his 
 will he brought it back with the hard facts of a dic- 
 tionary. He did not prepare for death and gave 
 orders to his subordinates who lingered with him, 
 saying he would return at ten o'clock. 
 
 Ruspoli made a testament, wrote a letter to Theo- 
 dosia, left one for his mother and another for the 
 King of Italy. They were given to Consul Roma to 
 be delivered in the event of his demise. 
 
 About five o'clock in the morning several carriages 
 left different parts of San Francisco and drove south- 
 ward about ten miles to near the San Mateo boundary 
 line. The air bit upon the flesh, and the wind from 
 the ocean seemed frozen. The drivers frequently 
 lost their way in the intense darkness heralding dawn. 
 They proceeded slowly like a funeral train. 
 
 Finally they drew up on the broad embankment of 
 a creek, so dark and sluggish that it had forgotten to 
 flow. Ruspoli and his friends were already present. 
 Stryne brought with him the seconds and a surgeon. 
 Another carriage containing some of his followers 
 who had learned of the duel soon arrived. They 
 awaited silently the break of -day, the signal for 
 preparation. Soon came the grayish-pink dawn and 
 the breeze was stronger. In the canon where they 
 
 were the shadows had not risen. It was still night. 
 
 261 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Carriages were left at the roadside and all walked 
 up a valley where the sward widened and there was 
 a broad, green, level space. Ruspoli was one of the 
 best pistol shots in Italy, and Stryne was famous for 
 his accuracy and aim. So those weapons had been 
 selected by the seconds. 
 
 The followers of the Prince and Stryne separated 
 into two groups. Picket held a consultation with 
 Consul Roma and Dalgarkoff. McCann looked 
 wonderingly on and hoped they would both fire into 
 the air. 
 
 The pistols were examined and loaded. Stryne 
 secured the choice of weapons by the toss of a dol- 
 lar. Dalgarkoff marked off the ten paces agreed 
 upon by both sides. 
 
 Stryne stood apart and did not busy himself wish 
 the details. His brow was quite placid, but his 
 mouth bent downward in determination. He waited 
 patiently for proceedings to be finished. His friends, 
 less accustomed to similar scenes than the foreign- 
 ers, were ill at ease and restless. McCann gripped 
 the socialist's hand and turned away his face. Only 
 Philosopher Picket was master of himself. 
 
 Consul Roma warned all to avoid the line of fire. 
 The principals took their places. Ruspoli faced the 
 morning light and raised his eyes reverently as a 
 
 worshiper of the sun. The wind was warmer. The 
 
 262 
 
THE DUEL 
 
 scent of morning was in the air. Trees and grass 
 blended into a thousand shades of green. Life and 
 the day were young and beautiful. There was every 
 reason to live. 
 
 The Prince removed his hat. Roma held it in his 
 hands. Then the Italian took off his overcoat. He 
 was clad in the gold and blue uniform of the naval 
 officer when in dress parade. A ruffle of lace peered 
 out from the neck of his coat, the highest button of 
 which was unfastened. He stood six feet in his var- 
 nished, high-heeled boots, as erect as a slender young 
 tree unbent by years or storms. 
 
 Ruspoli was freshly shaved ; his hands were recently 
 manicured, his hair was brushed straight back from his 
 brow as tho he were going to a ball or wedding. His 
 countenance was saffron, his lips were crimson like 
 the sun flaming above the hilltops, and his black, 
 mysterious eyes glowed with exultation. His finely 
 chiseled brow, nose, and chin stood out like a draw- 
 ing on white paper. Apparently he was not nervous. 
 He was as calm as Stryne or any one but Picket. 
 
 The Philosopher remarked to his principal : " You 
 don't need to kill the Prince. He is dead already. 
 Stick a knife into him and he would not move." 
 
 The agitator was disheveled and showed the effects 
 of lack of sleep. He was wrapped in his long blue 
 
 cloak, which he laid aside. Then he took off his 
 
 263 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 coat, and, in his blue trousers and flannel shirt, ex- 
 posing his bare neck, stood stalwart like a man carved 
 out of rock. His square posture, the turn of his 
 big bony head, the straight, heavy brows, the mold 
 of his wrist and hand showed Stryne's spirit deter- 
 mined to remain in life. There was a touch of bra- 
 vado, of daring in his manner not characteristic of 
 him. As he looked at the Prince his glance was 
 almost contemptuous. 
 
 Ruspoli caught the expression and came out of his 
 impassive attitude. He slowly walked the ten paces 
 to Stryne and bowed ceremoniously. 
 
 " Signore, " said he in Italian, " I feel that you 
 have deliberately provoked this meeting. In Italy it 
 would be impossible. My only reason for making 
 the concession is that you are honored with the 
 friendship of the lady whom I have chosen to be my 
 wife. We are equals, Signore. Addio." 
 
 The socialist rarely allowed his exterior to betray 
 his inner struggles. Still those observing saw his 
 mouth tighten, and a look that would give no quarter 
 come into his eyes. But Stryne merely saluted the 
 Italian, who returned to his post. Soon the punc- 
 tilios of the code were observed. Consul Roma ap- 
 proached the socialist, made a feint of seeking con- 
 cealed weapons, touched his waistcoat, bowed, and 
 
 withdrew. 
 
 264 
 
THE DUEL 
 
 McCann crossed to the Prince, unbuttoned his 
 coat, and searched in every pocket for hidden arti- 
 cles. Then he passed his hands over Ruspoli's 
 chest. It was the first time the Italian showed irri- 
 tability, and, altho he submitted, he frowned and 
 tore into the flesh of his lips with his white, strong 
 teeth. This clumsy action of McCann disturbed 
 Ruspoli's poise. He took all the loose coins from 
 his pocket and gave them to his opponent's second. 
 Stryne also threw his money to Roma, scattering 
 some of it on the grass. 
 
 There was nothing more to be done, and the two 
 men faced each other while their seconds cocked the 
 pistols and set the hair triggers. Then they were 
 given into the hands of the combatants. The so- 
 cialist and the prince measured the distance between 
 them with their eyes. Their friends and seconds 
 realized that the battle was to be earnest and it was 
 the doomsday of one of them. The time was come 
 when they felt the earth could no longer contain them 
 both. 
 
 Lieutenant Dalgarkoff read the conditions of the 
 meeting in slow, labored English. Philosopher 
 Picket, with what he considered his most telling 
 dramatic tones, reserved especially for affairs of 
 honor, gave elaborate instructions as to the firing. 
 
 It was a nice occasion and called for deliberation 
 
 265 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 and all of Picket's most effective adjectives. Duels 
 were becoming infrequent in California. 
 
 The men stood looking at each other, perhaps for 
 the last time. The muzzles of their weapons hung 
 toward the ground. There was an instant of pain- 
 ful silence which no one hurried to break. It seemed 
 hours to Ruspoli. Finally he turned his head toward 
 Roma. 
 
 "Gentlemen," asked the Consul impressively, 
 "are you ready? " There was eagerness on the part 
 of both to answer " Ready." 
 
 Again there was a pause. Roma delayed a sec- 
 ond longer, apparently hoping that something at the 
 last moment would prevent the duel. The Prince 
 once more looked at his second. It was becoming 
 embarrassing, for Stryne and his friends appar- 
 ently imagined the hesitation was instigated by 
 Ruspoli. 
 
 " Fire ! One ! " rang out lingeringly like the toll- 
 ing of a bell. 
 
 There was a report from a pistol. It was the Ital- 
 ian's. His weapon was discharged before he 
 brought it to a level. The lead burrowed into the 
 ground a yard from Stryne 's feet. 
 
 Ruspoli had made an excellent shot, but it had 
 fallen short of the mark. The hair trigger of his 
 
 weapon was too fine. He was not familiar with that 
 
 266 
 
THE DUEL 
 
 particular kind of a pistol. Stryne had won the 
 choice of weapons. 
 
 In a second there was a crack and a flash in the 
 air. It was the socialist's answer to Ruspoli. With 
 the snap of the pistol the Prince flinched, bent his 
 body to the right, then to the left, and made a mighty 
 effort to hold himself erect. His seconds stepped to 
 assist him, but he waved them away. Then in his 
 endeavor to stand firm he stretched his head upward 
 as if gasping. He could not maintain an upright 
 position. His weapon dropped from his hand. 
 His skin seemed to wilt. He drooped, finally fell 
 prone to the ground and lay on his back, his great 
 eyes staring upward. 
 
 Stryne silently remained in his position, and his 
 quick ears caught a moan from Ruspoli in Italian, so 
 faint that Roma barely understood and comprehended : 
 "Theodosia, Dio mio ! to die so! O my bride of 
 the violets and sunshine, my wife, come, or I shall 
 never again see thee ! " 
 
 Fatalist and superstitious, these wild words nar- 
 rowed Stryne's existence to Theodosia, the Prince, 
 and himself, and he was certain that the first two were 
 secretly married. It explained her hesitation to flee 
 with him. As Stryne fixed his eyes upon Ruspoli, 
 each muscle of his countenance relaxed as though he 
 were drunk. In that second, when failure unavoida- 
 
 267 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 ble confronted him, the Prince's whisper hissed and 
 boiled into his ears, making tumult of his mind. 
 Like a drowning man, his life in fleeting panorama 
 passed before him, and he saw in Theodosia's yellow 
 curls the snare, entangled wherein he had taken his 
 first step toward failure and was now facing ruin. 
 He had dreaded that specter too long not to know him 
 when they met as well as he would have recognized 
 death. A cold black wall seemed to shut every one 
 from his sight. He was glad when McCann said : 
 
 " Your man is hard hit. " 
 
 "The gentleman is undoubtedly badly injured," 
 remarked Picket, and this brought Stryne to the 
 necessity of considering the present. His thick 
 arms were folded on his chest. The muzzle of his 
 pistol projected from behind him. A look of in- 
 quiry came into his eyes. His only interest in the 
 Prince seemed to know if a second shot was expected 
 from him. 
 
 "Your honor is satisfied, Mr. Stryne," said Picket. 
 
 " If I had struck two inches to the left and a little 
 lower down, the shot would have been mortal," re- 
 marked he, and the blood rushed back into his gray 
 countenance. 
 
 When assured of the helpless condition of Rus- 
 poli, he put on his coat, called his friends, walked to 
 
 the carriages and drove to the city. The Consul 
 
 268 
 
THE DUEL 
 
 who saw Stryne leave his fallen antagonist without 
 a handclasp, cried to Dalgarkoff: "I am Ruspoli's 
 friend, and I will not see murder committed like 
 this. Those weapons were juggled with. Let us 
 follow and kill that scoundrel." 
 
 The Russian replied : " If we are Ruspoli's friends 
 we will remain here and help him." 
 
 " Not the sympathy of an Indian after he has 
 tomahawked his victim. " 
 
 The surgeon persuaded, " Be calm, gentlemen. 
 Your best judgment is needed by the Prince." 
 
 Ruspoli lay in the Russian's arms, his eyes half 
 closed and breathing through his mouth. His life's 
 reddest blood gushed forth, and crimsoned the green 
 carpet of grass and moss. 
 
 When the medical man cut away the fallen com- 
 batant's uniform, tore off his lace and linen white 
 shirt, his chest and wound were bared to sight. 
 Even the surgeon shivered. With each breath arte- 
 rial blood came in spurts, staining his flesh. The 
 ball had torn a tortuous course among the vitals. It 
 entered the right breast between the second and 
 third ribs, fractured the edge of the sternum, sped 
 over the heart to the upper lobe of the left lung and 
 proceeded upward through the arm pit. As the 
 blood gushed forth it seemed that there could be 
 
 none left in his body. Ruspoli's hands and cheeks 
 
 269 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 were like the skin of an Easter lily. He lay help- 
 less and nerveless. 
 
 " Stryne said the wound is not mortal, that his aim 
 was bad. Is it true, doctor? " asked Consul Roma. 
 
 " His aim was meant for nothing but death. I 
 do not see how it could be improved upon," an- 
 swered the surgeon. 
 
 "Do you mean the Prince is dying?" queried 
 Roma. 
 
 " Look at that red blood," replied the physician. 
 
 " There is absolutely no hope ? " asked Dalgarkoff. 
 
 " He has youth and no vices. Perhaps the mira- 
 cles happened. If they did, they may be repeated." 
 
 One of the seconds went for a mattress and a 
 spring wagon, while the surgeon remained to bind 
 up the wounds and check the great flow of blood. 
 When the Prince spoke it was with intense agony. 
 
 They begged him to make no endeavor. 
 
 Within an hour after he fell to the ground he was 
 slowly conveyed to the large comfortable home of a 
 prominent rancher close at hand. There he was 
 tenderly placed in bed by his physician and friends. 
 It was from this place that the public had the first 
 intimation of what had happened. 
 
 In San Francisco the news was that Prince Rus- 
 poli was dead. It sped to Theodosia, and crossed 
 
 the continent and sea to Italy. 
 
 270 
 
Chapter XXIV 
 THE LOSER WINS 
 
 |USY San Francisco had long been at work 
 when the information was posted on bul- 
 letin boards, shrieked forth by newsboys, 
 gossiped about at the clubs, exclaimed at in boudoirs, 
 that Ruspoli was killed by Stryne. Van Ness was 
 in dismay. Every convert to the Working Men's 
 party hastened to declare he knew it could not be 
 true. Candidates for office and their friends who 
 hoped to obtain something from them, were horror 
 stricken. 
 
 On the other hand, Republicans were jubilant, 
 not over Ruspoli's death, but that Stryne was de- 
 feated. They were grateful to the Prince for falling 
 before the socialist's pistol. In the committee rooms 
 it was suggested that they erect a monument to 
 Ruspoli. 
 
 News associations telegraphed to the most remote 
 villages of the interior that there could be no better 
 practical demonstration of the folly of seeking new 
 political idols among anarchists and fanatics. Our 
 fathers undoubtedly were filled with wisdom and 
 
 2? I 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 they clung to the old party, even though imperfect. 
 The Republicans saved the country once, and it was 
 safe to trust them in the future. Old and promi- 
 nent citizens shook their heads in approbation and 
 were grateful to be rescued from voting for a mur- 
 derer. There was but a day more before election 
 and the grossest libels of Stryne were circulated and 
 published in the afternoon. Republicans were 
 thankful that there was no time for their stories to 
 be contradicted. Roma's impulsive exclamation that 
 the weapons were juggled with was telegraphed 
 everywhere as a fact. Indignation was aroused to a 
 terrible pitch. Had Ruspoli been an American, 
 lynching of Stryne would have been suggested. But 
 even San Francisco's most loyal Republicans could 
 not arouse themselves to that punishment for 
 killing a useless Italian Prince. 
 
 Theodosia, unconscious of the events of early 
 morning, had arisen and penned a letter to Stryne. 
 She felt that she could never say no to that will 
 of his if she saw him in person. So she wrote, 
 realizing as she did so that it was the coward's 
 method. 
 
 She unhesitatingly admitted to herself that she 
 was ashamed of her conduct. Consequently she 
 wrote with great decision. Even then the currents 
 
 of Stryne' s stormy will swept over her, making her 
 
 272 
 
THE LOSER WINS 
 
 hesitate and soften her refusal. Sometimes she 
 laughed at herself as a ridiculous, inexperienced 
 matinee girl, enamored of Claude Melnotte or Faust. 
 Because the role and the scene in which he ap- 
 pealed to her, she had been willing to give herself 
 to the actor himself. 
 
 Camelias and clematis are beautiful, but they need 
 the warmth of the tropics. Society was as necessary 
 to her as the sun to those flowers. She knew she 
 was interesting, charming, and handsome, but she 
 needed all her settings of jewels, brocades, tapestries, 
 and lace. In any other condition she would be a 
 withered, shriveled blossom. 
 
 Then she asked herself if she honestly desired to 
 aid the poor, the working classes, as she had so 
 often professed. Theodosia refused to admit that 
 she was affected. Yes, that wish was earnest, but 
 she preferred being a socialist in a brown-stone 
 house, and having the smartest turnouts in San 
 Francisco. To dwell among the unfortunate and un- 
 clean, to work with them and for them as Stryne's 
 wife, would be noble, but she was not fitted for it. 
 Some other woman, much better than she, could do 
 that, for Theodosia Peyton, by temperament and en- 
 vironment, was a dilettante. 
 
 While perusing her letter for the last time before 
 
 despatching it, Victoire ran to her mistress, and 
 18 273 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 flinging a newspaper into the air, exclaimed in almost 
 incoherent French and English : 
 
 " Mademoiselle, Monsieur le Prince est killed by 
 ce vilain Stryne. Mon Dieu, c est terrible, Made- 
 moiselle. So nice, Monsieur le Prince. He bowed 
 so when Mademoiselle go away, and he say to me 
 'Mademoiselle/ comme si I am a grande dame. I 
 send him, Mademoiselle, after you, for he loves so 
 great deal. Poor Monsieur le Prince ! " 
 
 Theodosia screamed, " Victoire, what are you say- 
 ing?" and leaped after the newspaper. It was all 
 true. Ruspoli and Stryne were enemies. The 
 journal said political foes. She was the cause of it. 
 There was a quarrel last evening at the sand-lot 
 meeting. It was her fault. Ruspoli had begged to 
 be with her. Stryne provoked him and the Prince 
 issued the challenge. Of course, and hers was the 
 blame. Worse still, juggling with pistols like a 
 trickster and assassin. That visit of Stryne's, how 
 clear it was to her now as she read. When he ex- 
 tracted the promise from her, he was deliberating 
 the Prince's end. It was her duel and Ruspoli's 
 death was hers. 
 
 " Oh, Victoire, I am a murderess ! " groaned she, 
 pressing her face into her hands as she fell into the 
 French woman's arms. In her dazed condition her 
 
 mind reviewed Ruspoli's love for her. He, with 
 
 274 
 
THE LOSER WINS 
 
 everything to lose and nothing to gain, had devoted 
 himself to her for a year. Deliberately she tor- 
 tured him because she could. Everything that a 
 rejected lover can suffer, he endured patiently. He 
 asked nothing but her love and she had bestowed it. 
 To think he would never know. If only she had been 
 a woman instead of a coquette and told him. If only 
 she had risen above her vanity. She was conquered 
 and Ruspoli was assassinated shot by her small, 
 white, dimpled hands. She dared not look at them, 
 for she knew her tears had stained them with blood. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, they say Monsieur le Prince is 
 not dead, only dying." 
 
 " Only dying," groaned Theodosia, " only dying, 
 Victoire? Do you know what that means? " 
 
 Then she arose to her feet, her countenance lighted 
 by hope. 
 
 " Perhaps, Victoire." Colonel Peyton came. 
 
 " Perhaps, papa," repeated she, as if mad. " Per- 
 haps. Oh no. Only dying." 
 
 During the entire ten miles that Colonel Peyton's 
 carriage was driven with horses at run-away speed, 
 Theodosia lay in her father's arms repeating those 
 words like a refrain. 
 
 "He is growing weaker," said Dr. Knapp, who 
 had known Theodosia from childhood. " I can not 
 let you see him." 
 
 275 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " That is the very reason why I must. You shall 
 not keep me away from him, Doctor. I am going 
 into his room." 
 
 The physician bowed to the inevitable and opened 
 the door for Colonel Peyton and his daughter. Rus- 
 poli lay on the pillows, looking as if already dead 
 and in his shroud. He was staring vacantly in front 
 of him when his eyes lighted on Theodosia. All 
 that morning she had stood there. Was it she, or 
 merely his old dream of her ? Colonel Peyton was 
 with her and it was she in the flesh. 
 
 Before he could speak, she leaped across the room 
 and knelt by his low bedside. He feebly placed his 
 arms about her shoulders and smiled for the first 
 time since wounded. 
 
 "Joy of my life," whispered he in Italian, raising 
 her hand to his lips. " My life and soul, at last 
 thou art here." 
 
 Since Theodosia had heard of his condition, she 
 had not wept, but shivered and moaned. Her face 
 was saddened and drawn, but her eyes were dry as 
 she flung herself at his feet. When she saw him 
 and heard him speak, tears fell like thorns of ice. 
 Sobs and groans prostrated her head on his pillow. 
 When she could give utterance, she knelt enfolding 
 his face in her hands, and whispered in his own 
 
 language : 
 
 276 
 
THE LOSER WINS 
 
 " Listen, Alessandro, I want to confess to thee. 
 I have told thee a falsehood so many times. Ales- 
 sandro, I love thee." 
 
 " Ah, Theodosia, to think I should hear it only on 
 my deathbed. It was hard to know I was going to 
 fall this morning, but Dio y Dio! Now it is terrible. 
 To die when my life has been given me," faintly 
 articulated he, his arms holding her with new strength. 
 
 Theodosia pressed her mouth to his bloodless 
 cheeks and lips. They were her first kisses. He 
 closed his eyes and opened them as he said, " My 
 joy, I can not die now." 
 
 " Alessandro," continued she, " thou wast ever so 
 kind and I so cruel. Thou wast ever so honest and I 
 false. How many times have I looked at thee and 
 said, f l do not love thee ' when my heart and brain 
 were shrieking, 'I love thee, I adore thee/ It was 
 a contest between my pride and thee. A few times 
 I gave way. I felt I could not love thee without 
 dishonor. I was always thinking of myself. I am 
 so petty, I should have given my whole heart to thee 
 unreservedly, and relied upon thy honor. That could 
 never fail me." 
 
 " Never, Theodosia, clearest lady." For the first 
 time there was a flush in his cheeks and life in his eyes. 
 
 " Alessandro, I adore thee. I have loved thee al- 
 ways. Often I longed to hurl myself into thy arms 
 
 277 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 and cry, 'Take me, take me.' I have ever belonged 
 to thee, my dear, and was afraid of my love and thine. 
 Thou canst never forgive this cruelty. I do not 
 ask thee. Live and make me surfer. Bruise me, 
 beat me, torture me, for what I have done, but do 
 not die unless I can go with thee. I want it to be a 
 scandal. I hope the newspapers will say I am respon- 
 sible for it all. I hope I shall be humiliated and 
 pointed at on the streets as the murderess of my 
 lover. I want any agony or affliction, but oh, Dio, I 
 cannot endure thy death ! " 
 
 " Thou lovest me, dear heart. Repeat it," said 
 he in great pain. 
 
 "I adore thee, my love," answered she. 
 
 " And wouldst thou ever have confessed to me, 
 Theodosia?" 
 
 "This evening, dear, I was going to tell thee. If 
 only I had seen thee last night." 
 
 " I do not wish to reproach thee, but if I had come 
 to thee then, how much more of life we might have 
 had. Think, soul of mine, what I felt this morning, 
 believing I must die unknowing thy love. " 
 
 Dr. Knapp came, saw the color in Ruspoli's 
 cheeks, felt his pulse, and said : 
 
 " Miss Peyton, you must come away now." 
 
 The Prince touched the physician's hand and 
 
 held it with all his force. " Doctor, you will let me 
 
 278 
 
THE LOSER WINS 
 
 live. I want to live. A little while ago it did not 
 matter, but now I must live." 
 
 " You shall have the best attention, Prince Rus- 
 poli, but you ought not to talk more at present." 
 
 " May Miss Peyton come back soon, Doctor ? " 
 
 " If you will rest." 
 
 Dr. Knapp left the room, and Colonel Peyton and 
 his daughter followed. When outside the door, 
 Theodosia confronted the physician with disheveled 
 hair and wild eyes. She placed her hands on the 
 medical man's shoulders and said : 
 
 " You must give me your honest private opinion. 
 Is Prince Ruspoli going to die ? " The physician 
 did not answer. 
 
 " I know what that means, Dr. Knapp. You did 
 not reply when I asked you that question about my 
 mother once, but I say you must not permit him to 
 die. I hold you responsible for his life. " 
 
 "I give my best skill, Miss Peyton, always," an- 
 swered the physician. 
 
 " If he dies, it will be your fault. You must find 
 some elixir to keep him for me. He is young and 
 strong. There is no reason why he should not live. 
 I will never leave him. You can not tear me from 
 his dead body. I will be buried alive with him." 
 
 *' Be calm, Miss Peyton. We shall do all that is 
 
 possible." 
 
 279 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " It is the same old story. He is going to die. 
 We are to be separated before our happiness has be- 
 gun. I want to know the worst, doctor. Tell me 
 the truth. Am I correct ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid you are, Miss Peyton." 
 
 " Doctor, I knew it. You can not keep me from 
 him another minute. I shall remain with him as 
 long as there is life. " 
 
 Theodosia burst open the door and flew back to 
 the bedside of the sick man. She had cast aside her 
 wraps and wore the loose, flowing, soft, cream satin 
 morning gown in which she was dressed when she 
 heard of the duel. Her long yellow curls, unre- 
 strained by an ornament or a pin, hung about her 
 shoulders and almost smothered him as she fell on 
 her knees by his bedside and held his head in her 
 arms. 
 
 The Prince lay back on the pillow with a sigh. 
 
 " I know," said he, " what the physician told thee. 
 I shall never go back to Italy alive." 
 
 " No, no, Alessandro, it is not true. Thou shalt 
 live. Thou must live, or we will die together. " His 
 mind was clearer and better poised than hers, even in 
 his pain. Ruspoli closed his eyes to restrain him- 
 self from shrieking in agony. Then he continued in 
 a whisper that none but she could understand : 
 
 " Dearest life, I knew before the duel occurred I 
 280 
 
THE LOSER WINS 
 
 should never return to Italy. Yesterday when we 
 rode in the park, I had just received the news for 
 which I wrote and cabled prayers to my mother, the 
 Cardinal, my father's cousin, and Humbert. It 
 seemed to me that God is love when the intelligence 
 came that the King willed that I come and beg thee 
 to be my wife. What caprice, what inspiration, 
 moved my family to consent, I know not. I had the 
 despatches in my pocket when I fell, but I gave 
 them to Roma together with my testament for thee. 
 Had the answer of my mother been a refusal, I 
 should have abandoned my family and country and 
 lived in the United States. Then, altho I possess 
 little, I should have begged that thou accept me. I 
 was afraid thou didst not love me enough for that. " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Alessandro, but I could not ask thee 
 to make a sacrifice and repent." 
 
 " My only reason for clinging to my rank was that 
 I have so little to offer at best. If there is any 
 pleasure for thee in being the Princess Ruspoli, I de- 
 sire thee to have it. I know I shall never return to 
 my country, dearest lady, bur wilt thou not go for 
 me? I should be so much happier if, before I die, 
 I know thou art all mine, that thou earnest unasked 
 and gavest thyself to me. Wilt thou be my bride 
 and carry our message of love and gratitude to my 
 
 people?" 
 
 281 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " Alessandro," sobbed she, her face buried on his 
 throat. 
 
 " Thou dost not respond, my life. It is not too 
 late. There is a priest not far from here. I saw 
 the little church as we passed. Roma has sent for 
 him for the last absolution. First let him make thee 
 my bride." 
 
 "I am thine now, Alessandro," whispered she. 
 
 " I know, but wilt thou be, Theodosia, the Princess 
 Ruspoli?" 
 
 They were in close embrace when the physician 
 said: 
 
 "The priest is here." 
 
 282 
 
Chapter XXV 
 A VIOLET BRIDAL 
 
 promised to return within fif- 
 teen minutes, and left Ruspoli alone with 
 the father. She went into another room 
 and bathed her face in hot water and cologne. Then 
 she combed her hair in the full pompadour worn at 
 that period, and dressed her curls, fastening two to- 
 gether in the back with a clasp. She straightened 
 out the folds of her tucked white satin morning 
 gown, and was impatient to go back to the Prince. 
 
 When Colonel Peyton and she reentered, the room 
 bore the appearance of having been prepared for her 
 coming. Ruspoli had not looked so well since she 
 first came as he did at that moment. His eyes were 
 unnaturally bright and the blood was concentrated in 
 his cheeks. 
 
 The priest, a small, bent, sad-faced, dark-eyed 
 man, whose closely cropped hair was sprinkled with 
 gray, arose and allowed Theodosia to pass to Ruspoli. 
 
 " How strange, Theodosia, dearest life, that this is 
 my wedding day and then I die." 
 
 283 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " We are to be married to-day, Alessandro ? " asked 
 she. 
 
 "With thy permission, my joy." 
 
 l< I will not leave thee, dear, but I must send for a 
 gown. I shall be ready in three hours. " 
 
 He shook his head as he looked into her eyes and 
 whispered, "That will be too late. Now." 
 
 "A3 I am?" 
 
 " Yes, as thou art, dearest." 
 
 " In this boudoir frock? " 
 
 " What does its name matter? It is beautiful and 
 so art thou. One can not stand upon ceremony when 
 one's life is counted by minutes." 
 
 " I am such a funny bride." 
 
 " Thou art mine. " 
 
 " There are to be no guests, Alessandro ? " 
 
 " Enough, my love. Thy father, Roma, Dalgarkoff, 
 and Death. " 
 
 " Not the last, Alessandro," said she, kissing his 
 eyes. " You are going to live. Every minute you 
 are growing stronger. Oh, to think that after all 
 you will recover. What bliss ! Our entire lives to 
 be together. Let it be soon. Father, we are ready," 
 said she, quickly turning to the priest, who stood at 
 the open window talking with Colonel Peyton. 
 
 The rancher's kindly wife brought roses from the 
 
 garden for decorating the large, airy, barren sleeping- 
 
 284 
 
A VIOLET BRIDAL 
 
 room, but the priest waved her away. It was a union 
 between a Protestant and a Catholic upon which the 
 Church frowned. Her disapproval is so strong that 
 no like marriage may be celebrated within her sacred 
 walls. Not a flower or blossom shall be employed to 
 make one forget that the Church is wrathful. 
 
 The thoughtful hostess ordered the bed turned so 
 that the man and woman about to be married might 
 look out upon the lawn. Before them was a large 
 garden surrounded with shrubbery and trees. At 
 midday the weather was warm and the windows were 
 thrown wide open. After a few seconds, Ruspoli 
 took a deep breath and looked up toward Theodosia. 
 
 " Is there perfume in the air, dear? What is it? " 
 asked he faintly. 
 
 "Violets, Alessandro," exclaimed she. 
 
 " Yes," said the rancher's wife. " There is a great 
 bed of them below your window. Would you like 
 some? " asked she, looking at the priest. 
 
 "Yes," answered Ruspoli. "Please bring this 
 lady some for her hair and gown." 
 
 It was only a handclasp, but Theodosia and the 
 Prince understood. She wore the violets in her curls 
 and on her shoulder. Then when she approached 
 him, he touched his lips to the flowers and they both 
 smiled. 
 
 All the witnesses came. They were prepared for 
 
 285 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 the ceremony. Theodosia sat in a chair by the bed- 
 side and listened* to the short form of marriage. 
 Again the Church showed displeasure and nearly all 
 that is beautiful in the service was shorn from the 
 text. Only the necessary questions were asked and 
 answered. Then the priest, in a voice conveying 
 deeply pained disapproval of similar violations of 
 custom and tradition, gave a short exhortation to the 
 couple. They were husband and wife. 
 
 All knelt while the father bestowed the blessing 
 of the Church upon the Prince and Princess Ruspoli. 
 When he finished, Theodosia was still prostrate in 
 prayer and her husband's eyes were closed. There 
 was no organ to swell out joy and hope. Only the 
 sobs of the bride sounded mournfully through the 
 chamber. 
 
 286 
 
Chapter XXVI 
 THE PASSING OF STRYNE 
 
 the entire day before elec- 
 tions, bulletins of Prince Ruspoli's health 
 were eagerly sought. While the Republi- 
 cans did not hope for his death, they could not but 
 realize that their chances of success were immeasura- 
 bly strengthened by his decline. From the windows 
 of the journal of the Working Men, the crowd read 
 that the Italian had suffered only a slight wound. 
 All the Republican newspapers announced as a vic- 
 tory for them that Ruspoli was sinking each hour. 
 Between the rival dailies the people were in a 
 lamentable state of confusion. 
 
 Meanwhile Stryne's friends and enemies were 
 seeking him with equal fervor. The opposition was 
 anxious that he be within reach of the law in the 
 event of the Prince's death. They looked forward to 
 seing the leader of the Working Men arrested for 
 murder. 
 
 His own chief supporters and friends were still 
 loyal, but they feared lest the duel cause the defeat 
 
 of the party. They sought him in every possible 
 
 287 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 place, for they believed that if the assembled voters 
 of San Francisco coulcl only hear his speech and feel 
 his earnestness, his honesty, and his intensity, they 
 would not swerve. His should be the call of the 
 general rallying a scattered army. 
 
 After all, what had Stryne done? Merely ac- 
 cepted the challenge of a foreigner, an Italian prince, 
 to a duel, and wounded or killed his opponent. What 
 else was there for a good shot, a man of honor? 
 Suppose Ruspoli should die, it was merely a misfor- 
 tune of war. The earth would be rid of one more 
 parasite. 
 
 In spite of their arguments they realized the 
 damage it did their cause, and abandoned hope of 
 success in the State. However, they believed that, 
 should he return by eight o'clock at night, one speech 
 on the sand-lot would elect the mayor and a part of 
 the legislature. It did not hurt their confidence in 
 him that he disappeared, but they did not like to have 
 the words "fugitive " and " coward " flung at them. 
 If only Stryne would come. 
 
 Each constituted himself a detective, and men 
 ceased work to seek him. Ten thousand dollars 
 reward was offered to any one who would give in- 
 formation of his whereabouts before eight o'clock. 
 Telegrams were sent in all directions for his appre- 
 hension. Attics, cellars, and alleys were ransacked 
 
 288 
 
THE PASSING OF STRYNE 
 
 and he was still missing. Only the ship sailing for 
 New York at three o'clock was overlooked. 
 
 Stryne's friends tramped the streets until the 
 morning hour, waiting for some news of their cham- 
 pion. They were even humiliated by being com- 
 pelled to deny the rumor that he had committed 
 suicide. None who knew, had met, or even seen 
 him, considered it other than absurd. Strynites were 
 dazed and vaguely wondered who would lead them, 
 express their grievances, and declare their rights. 
 Who would voice Strynism? Men who had been 
 cemented together by the leader's will and labor, 
 looked at one another as strangers. 
 
 Like a haze at first, and then definitely, it crystal- 
 lized in their brains that each one unassisted must 
 work out his own sufferings. At this they rebelled, 
 for they recalled their power and might of yesterday 
 when each felt himself ruler. Gradually they real- 
 ized that they had been working with strength bor- 
 rowed from their leader. They were as helpless as 
 atoms. They would continue to grumble their wrongs 
 to themselves. They would submit to the domina- 
 tion of the old bosses and corporations. Strynism 
 was extinct because Stryne was no longer present. 
 
 During the day the news from the bedside of Rus- 
 poli stated that after a decided improvement, the 
 
 fever suddenly grew higher. The physicians were 
 19 289 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 quite helpless, as it was certain that blood poison had 
 resulted. 
 
 The vote was unusually large owing to the intense 
 interest taken in the elections throughout the entire 
 State. Results showed that Van Ness, the nomi- 
 nee for Governor, carried the city of San Francisco 
 by a good majority, but in the country he was 
 defeated. Stryne was a new god for the conserva- 
 tive interior, where the voters were shocked to 
 learn that they barely escaped electing the ticket 
 of a murderer. 
 
 In San Francisco, the fortress of the fugitive leader, 
 the candidates of the Working Men's party for the 
 mayoralty, judgeships, and the legislature without 
 exception were elected. They filled their offices 
 quite as men under the old bosses had done. Many 
 of the radicals became conservative and corrupt. 
 This seemed to them atonement for Strynism, which 
 they hoped would be set down as youthful indiscre- 
 tion. 
 
 The voters of the city had confided in Stryne dur- 
 ing too long a period to alter their reliance for any 
 reason. When his seconds reported Stryne 's exag- 
 gerated view of the harm he had done himself in the 
 unfortunate duel, they grieved over his delusion. 
 It was not their part to desert him, even tho he had 
 
 forsaken them at their most critical hour. They 
 
 290 
 
THE PASSING OF STRYNE 
 
 looked every day for his return in triumph. And in 
 years to come the working men of San Francisco ex- 
 pected Stryne's reappearance with superstitious faith 
 akin to that with which the ancient English awaited 
 the coming again of King Arthur. 
 
 291 
 
Chapter XXVII 
 STRUGGLING BACK TO LIFE 
 
 [ITHIN Theodosia's nature was the secret of 
 making others content with themselves. 
 To cause a friend to feel that the particu- 
 lar gown she was wearing suited her style, gave her 
 pleasure. Another acquaintance was cheered by a 
 wish from Theodosia to write verses on the coming 
 and the going of the color in her cheeks. She routed 
 despondency. In consequence she was much liked 
 wherever she went. 
 
 One of her delights lay in bestowing kindness. 
 She enjoyed thoroughly the incense ever arising to 
 the nostrils of Lady Bountiful. At two and twenty 
 she supposed that she had no enemies. After she 
 became the Princess Ruspoli she was surprised to 
 learn, even in her husband's sick-room, that she was 
 the most unpopular woman in San Francisco. 
 
 During the twelve months that she played fast and 
 loose with Stryne and Ruspoli she had provoked 
 gossip. Every one was as kind as ever. She had 
 done nothing as yet to occasion snubs. The Pey- 
 
 tons were too powerful for that ; but her acquaint- 
 
 292 
 
STRUGGLING BACK TO LIFE 
 
 ances were awaiting their time, and, as soon as some 
 one found the courage and occasion, were prepared to 
 administer the deserved rebuke. 
 
 In the boudoirs of society it had been talked over 
 thoroughly from all points of view. The Almanack 
 de Gotha was called into service, and the lineage of 
 Ruspoli was read until it could be recited. It was 
 out of the question that he marry Theodosia Peyton, 
 for he was an Italian and of the blood royal. Those 
 men never marry out of their class, said they. Con- 
 sequently, even her best friend felt no small degree 
 of pleasure in seeing Theodosia become more deeply 
 entangled in the flirtation. It is a profound affec- 
 tion which honestly regrets the misfortunes of 
 others. 
 
 When Theodosia suddenly became the wife of 
 Ruspoli, every one realized that she was "deep" 
 and " designing." Jessie Traver said : " I never saw 
 a person yet, with big blue eyes, who could not tell 
 a lie a second. Heaven deliver me from ingenues." 
 
 It was regarded as a breach of friendship that 
 Theodosia had always had the audacity to pretend 
 that Ruspoli was tiresome and a bore. Such double- 
 dealing, and what a two-faced minx! Then her 
 acquaintances consoled themselves by saying that the 
 Prince's mother would never receive her. That was 
 some pleasure after all. However, sad to relate, 
 
 293 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 Theodosia had despatches of welcome from the Dowa- 
 ger Princess Ruspoli. 
 
 What of that ? The Italian was a beggar, abso- 
 lutely without a cent. Not quite, either, for he had 
 an allowance of something like ten thousand a year, 
 and Colonel Peyton was to double or treble it, if 
 necessary. 
 
 At least Ruspoli was going to die. That much 
 seemed certain. Then Theodosia would be worse 
 off than ever, with no recompense for all the unpleas- 
 ant newspaper scandal and gossip. It is so horrible 
 for a woman to be concerned in a duel. So the 
 fashionable world at last found solace. Society could 
 afford barely to do its duty and pity the poor Princess 
 Ruspoli. 
 
 Only Adele Whiting, wiser by far than women 
 years older than she, was sufficiently sagacious to 
 consider that possibly Ruspoli might live. If he did, 
 she saw no reason why she should not be the dearest 
 friend of the Princess Ruspoli as well as of Theodosia 
 Peyton. Court life is agreeable. She had heard of 
 the Prince's brothers, cousins, and friends, and no 
 woman is ever quite without hope. 
 
 So each day found Adele at the rancher* s house, 
 where Ruspoli lay, the flame of his life giving its last 
 flicker. Miss Whiting purchased bouquets of roses 
 
 that she really paid for with money which should 
 
 294 
 
STRUGGLING BACK TO LIFE 
 
 have gone for an evening wrap. The flowers were 
 fresh daily, and she begged Theodosia to allow her 
 to do something for her husband. 
 
 " You look positively insane, my girl. You might 
 at least let me comb your hair. The Prince is de- 
 lirious now, but when he recovers he will want to see 
 you pretty." 
 
 Theodosia had not slept for days and nights. 
 The color left her cheeks. Her hands were as white 
 as her husband's brow. Her hair was in one great 
 curl hanging down her back. She still wore her 
 wedding gown. 
 
 " I don't care how I look, Adele," said she, rest- 
 ing her tired head heavily on her friend's shoulder. 
 
 " To think, Theo dear, I should live to hear you 
 say that ! " 
 
 The lips of the Princess quivered as she spoke. 
 "Adele, you must never flirt. If a man is worth 
 anything at all and deserves your love you should be 
 honest with him or leave him alone." 
 
 "Theo, I said you looked mad, and now I know 
 you are. If your husband were not ill I should smile 
 at your preaching to me against flirtation. Why, 
 I never could find any one to flirt with because 
 you always took the men for yourself. I am glad 
 you are married. I hope that now I shall fare 
 better." 
 
 295 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 " I have been so wicked, Adele," sobbed Theo- 
 dosia. " Ever since this fever came on Alessandro, 
 I prayed hours that I might die. You don't know 
 the despair which makes you want to sink dead 
 to the floor. I never was so unhappy in my life 
 before." 
 
 " Theodosia, I am going to Colonel Peyton and 
 compel him to take you away from here by force, if 
 necessary. You must not do this any longer. Nurses 
 are created especially to care for the sick, and the 
 Prince must have a nurse." 
 
 " He shall not, Adele. No one shall do a thing 
 for him but myself. You don't know what it is 
 to see him not recognize me. Fancy, Adele, he 
 looks at me with his great black eyes and has 
 not the faintest idea who I am. It is almost as 
 bad as if he did not love me, and I brought it on 
 myself." 
 
 " I don't understand what Dr. Knapp means by 
 allowing you to get into this condition. Besides, 
 you know nothing of the work of a nurse and you are 
 liable to do more harm than good. Do be your sen- 
 sible self, Theo, and let me get some one to help you. 
 Once you were a dear girl with such heaps of com- 
 mon sense." 
 
 " I can not expect any one but myself to under- 
 stand," sobbed Theodosia. 
 
 296 
 
STRUGGLING BACK TO LIFE 
 
 Dr. Knapp came and Adele asked, "Doesn't the 
 Prince need a nurse? " 
 
 "Very badly." 
 
 " Then why do you allow Theodosia to wear her- 
 self out and kill her husband by taking care of him ? " 
 
 The medical man could not say, but the real secret 
 of his great success in the fashionable world was 
 that he allowed his patients to follow any caprice not 
 obviously suicidal. Even so, he made no more errors 
 than his contemporaries, and he was the most popu- 
 lar doctor in town. Theodosia had insisted that no 
 one aid her in nursing her husband, and Dr. Knapp 
 yielded. 
 
 A result of the interview between Adele Whiting 
 and the physician was that a nurse went immediately 
 to Theodosia's relief. Then Adele returned to her 
 study of Italian social life. She looked carefully 
 through the Almanack de Gotha to learn how many 
 of the Prince's cousins were unmarried. 
 
 Miss Nash, the nurse, had a gentle voice, a soft 
 touch, and velvet footsteps. She soothed Theodosia 
 with her sympathy. Then, talking to her as if she 
 were a baby, she brushed out her hair strand by 
 strand. Finally, she became almost drowsy. She 
 lay on a cot by the side of her husband's bed. 
 When he started up with a terrible hallucination in 
 
 his delirium, she leaped to his side and cooled his 
 
 297 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRIXCE 
 
 wrists and brow. The nurse could not persuade her 
 to lie down. 
 
 Then she sat in a chair by the bed and saw the 
 struggle he was making with death. He beat the 
 pillows with his hands and groaned. His cheeks 
 were ablaze with fever. Theodosia bent over him 
 and pleaded, " Alessandro, dost thou not know me ? 
 Only look at me, dear. It is I, Theodosia." 
 
 The sick man chattered on in his own tongue, 
 unheeding his wife. Presently he leaped from his 
 bed toward the windows in search of cooler air. 
 Had not Miss Nash and the Princess restrained him 
 he would have fallen to the ground below. Again 
 he was placed in bed. Then the nurse obtained his 
 temperature, and she looked at her thermometer with 
 affright. 
 
 "What do you see?" asked Theodosia, terror 
 stricken, as Miss Nash went for the physician. " Is 
 it death ? " 
 
 "No. Only a crisis/' answered the nurse hastily. 
 
 Before Theodosia could observe what the Prince 
 was doing, he took a large bucket of ice water stand- 
 ing on the table near by, and held his head therein. 
 Then he covered his body with the cold liquid. She 
 fled in alarm for the physician and nurse. When 
 they returned, he held out his arm to her with a 
 
 smile and said, "Theodosia." It was his first con- 
 
 298 
 
STRUGGLING BACK TO LIFE 
 
 scious moment in three days. His fever was broken. 
 Hope dawned on the doctor's countenance. The 
 nurse placed her hands on Theodosia's head and said, 
 " Your husband will live." 
 
 The Princess Ruspoli laughed, cried, embraced 
 every one, and fell by her husband's side in a fit of 
 laughter and shivers which resembled hysteria. 
 Then she yawned spasmodically until she almost 
 strangled. Presently the nurse gave her some medi- 
 cine that caused sleep. 
 
 At noon the next day she awoke, her husband and 
 nurse watching her. It seemed that in one night 
 she had grown years younger. The Prince was weak 
 and very pallid after the fever and enormous loss of 
 blood, but recovery was not far away. 
 
 "Thou art going to be well, Alessandro," cried 
 Theodosia, leaping~from her couch. " I am so glad, 
 and together we shall live happily to the end of our 
 days, just like a fairy story. Isn't it glorious ? The 
 morning is beautiful. Miss Nash is so good. Dr. 
 Knapp is so kind. Papa is so dear. Oh, life, what 
 a blessing ! " 
 
 299 
 
Chapter XXVIII 
 THE LAST MEETING 
 
 IRLOOKING the silent, weary, yellow 
 Tiber flowing through Rome is a huge, 
 stern, square palazzo which has rows of 
 long windows, sculptured with wonderful art. Its 
 giant porticos, vast courts, endless corridors, immense 
 galleries and halls all betoken sovereign pomp. In 
 one gallery are the marvelous frescoes of Annibale 
 Caracci. These vast rooms have exquisitely carved 
 ceilings six and twenty feet high. The walls are 
 bare, and the blending of all that is best in modern 
 and antique furniture is in the mansion. Once it 
 was occupied by Pope Pius III., an ancestor of the 
 family. It is the Palazzo Ruspoli, and one of the 
 few in Rome inhabited only by the descendants of 
 their forefathers. Nearly all the others are let to 
 parvenus, merchants, or foreigners. 
 
 Four years after the marriage of Theodosia and 
 Prince Alessandro Ruspoli, this was their home. 
 His mother said of her daughter-in-law, " The sun 
 shining from Theodosia's hair of gold has lighted 
 
 and cheered our Palazzo." 
 
 300 
 
THE LAST MEETING 
 
 In truth, since her coming the penetrating chill of 
 the walls had disappeared. Light and warmth dis- 
 persed the gloom of closed windows, which made the 
 palace resemble a tomb or prison. Her happy, joy- 
 ous nature pervaded each dim, musty corner. She 
 opened rooms that her husband's generation scarce 
 knew existed, and gave them the air of being occu- 
 pied. Her presence modernized Palazzo Ruspoli 
 without altering it. With new blood and new life 
 the new world revived the ancient. 
 
 The return of Prince Alessandro from the United 
 States with his bride marked an historical event in 
 his family. His mother was of the Savoys, and the 
 Ruspolis had ever retained their blood unpolluted by 
 foreigners. 
 
 Theodosia's arrival caused the greatest excitement 
 that had come to the family in a century. She was 
 not even Spanish, nor French, nor German, nor Eng- 
 lish, but an American. To fancy that a Ruspoli 
 could marry an American, to fancy that Alessandro 
 could become an iconoclast ! 
 
 Prince Alessandro's mother awaited the coming 
 of her daughter - in - law with sickening heart. 
 Surely this bride was an ambitious American who 
 had married her son for his title and rank. Un- 
 doubtedly this pushing, ambitious young woman 
 would take from her all her rights but those of a 
 
 3 i 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 dowager. She felt it hard to be second in the 
 Palazzo Ruspoli. She was a tall, erect, queenly 
 woman with a thin face, aquiline nose, square, well- 
 set chin and dark eyes, brilliant like black diamonds, 
 that still preserved youth's fire and beauty. Hon- 
 esty, loyalty, justice were in the lips, the brow, the 
 poise of the head. Not the Queen herself was so 
 securely enthroned as she in the hearts of those 
 dwelling in Palazzo Ruspoli. Now, thought she, 
 this power must be given to a foreigner, the wife of 
 her eldest son. 
 
 Cousins of both sexes, aunts, uncles, the rulers 
 themselves, Humbert and his gracious, beautiful 
 young consort, were rilled with interest in their new 
 kinswoman. She was the latest royal toy imported 
 from America. 
 
 Since it was not in Theodosia's nature to be 
 affected or anything but her cheerful, merry, natural 
 self, the Ruspolis and the Savoys were charmed by 
 la bella Americana. 
 
 Theodosia, with her ready sympathy and tact, 
 speedily comprehended the fears and doubts of her 
 mother-in-law. Instead of taking from that royal 
 lady's power, she augmented it by giving her one 
 more subject, for she charmingly submitted to be 
 nothing but the daughter of the Palazzo Ruspoli. 
 
 When the older Princess saw this, her fears for 
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THE LAST MEETING 
 
 her own sovereignty abated, and her love for Theo- 
 dosia daily grew. Often she thought one of her own 
 brown race might not have been so tractable as this 
 daughter of California with the glint of the gold of 
 her State in her wonderful tresses. 
 
 When the young nobles of the court saw Theo- 
 dosia, they approached and begged the honor of a 
 presentation. These men felt that she was much 
 too beautiful to be in love with her husband and they 
 already saw in her a new beauty for their conquest. 
 
 Young Prince Luigi Colonna, who thought he un- 
 derstood his world of women, was one of these. 
 When he offered his most elaborate compliments to 
 Theodosia, she looked at him with the amazement of 
 a young boy. There was not a smile in her eye nor 
 a poise to her head to show that she realized they 
 were of different sexes. It was disconcerting to this 
 hero of romances. Indeed Theodosia, from the be- 
 ginning of her life in Rome, bore herself with that 
 dignity and freedom from coquetry that only satiety 
 furnishes, and which a reformed American flirt alone 
 can assume. 
 
 Their first child was a little maiden named Theo- 
 dosia, with hair of flax and the brilliant eyes of the 
 Ruspolis, composed of the blue-white iris and large 
 black pupils. Her brow was from the other Theo- 
 dosia, and she had the full, decisive lips of the Prince. 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 She was a perfect blending of California and Italy. 
 She and her sturdy, fair brother, Alessandro, wound 
 their fragile arms about their parents' necks like 
 tendrils and made the Prince and Princess more than 
 lovers. Their affection had blossomed and they were 
 husband and wife. 
 
 Sometimes when these four were together, Theo- 
 dosia said to the Prince, her eyes moist with tears : 
 "Alessandro, I am afraid to be so happy. I don't 
 deserve it. I know something terrible is going to 
 happen. It is not possible to have so much joy 
 without paying for it in some way." 
 
 "Dearest lady," said he, kissing her hand as be- 
 fore they were married, " we paid for it long ago in 
 California, non e vtro" 
 
 " Sty amore mio, so we did. I am so happy I al- 
 most forget those dreadful days." 
 
 It was at this period that the sluggish, sleeping, 
 Roman population was aroused into a state of activity. 
 They ceased lounging on the grass where they were 
 awaiting work and food. Life may sometimes arise 
 from the dead. They lived in the sun, but they 
 proclaimed that its rays could not give them bread. 
 The King spent millions a year while Lazarus's sons 
 inhabited the land. 
 
 These idlers sprang to their feet and shook the 
 
 palaces of the old nobles with their cry for work and 
 
 34 
 
THE LAST MEETING 
 
 food. Humbert was a kindly man, but quite helpless 
 when confronted with these demands of his people. 
 It grieved him to refuse his subjects labor and sus- 
 tenance. But where were they to be had? What 
 did it matter to them if he had several millions a 
 year ? Even if he gave his revenue to the poor, it 
 would make only a few less mendicants. The dig- 
 nity of the state might better be supported. 
 
 Why should his people have this spasm of discon- 
 tent just as United Italy was beginning to thrive? 
 Surely these people were better off than their parents 
 or grandparents. It was annoying. If only he had 
 a Cavour ! However, no Cavour arose to his succor, 
 and revolution stalked over the seven hills of Rome. 
 
 It rumbled in the north, south, east, and west. It 
 was on foot, on horseback, and drove in a carriage. 
 It howled at the door of his palace. It roared up the 
 Appian Way, stirring the ancestors of Rome in their 
 tombs. It was everywhere directed against the 
 House of Savoy. As if another family could do 
 better. 
 
 So they would like a republic. They wished to 
 see Italy at the mercy of plunderers and politicians. 
 Already they were the incurable abscesses of the 
 new government. Humbert's subjects demanded 
 more of the same species. It was unbelievable. 
 
 Yet the revolution would not down. Wherever 
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THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRIJNCE 
 
 the Savoys dwelt, hordes of the ragged, dirty, and 
 hungry huddled and yelled for bread. They had for- 
 gotten the work of the great Victor Emanuele, and 
 now desired to dethrone his nephew and all his kin. 
 
 Humbert spoke to mobs of them and begged their 
 favor. Imagine one of God's appointed rulers asking 
 the indulgence of his people like a mere president ! 
 He might as well reign over a republic. 
 
 Still the revolution grew in Rome and spread into 
 the provinces wherever one of the House of Savoy 
 abode. It swept down from the mountains and blazed 
 up from the peninsula. Fires had been kindled in a 
 score of places simultaneously, yet who had struck 
 the match none could say. There were numberless 
 insignificant leaders but no visible head, altho plans 
 and results were definitely outlined. 
 
 Revolution came from Germany, the home of 
 unbelief, said the government. No. Their real 
 enemies were in France. Perhaps after all they 
 were within their own borders. If not, they were 
 beyond the ocean, in the United States, the abode 
 of all evil. Or could it be that want unaided had 
 aroused these people? 
 
 It was no longer to be doubted that the situation 
 was alarming. The government, which heretofore 
 had been lenient with the revolutionists, called out 
 
 the troops. Every royal palace was protected. A 
 
 306 
 
THE LAST MEETING 
 
 regiment of the King's guards was stationed in front 
 of the Palazzo Ruspoli. 
 
 " I knew something like this was coming, Ales- 
 sandro," cried Theodosia, clutching her frightened 
 children in her arms. " It is not the fault of Hum- 
 bert, poor man, nor any of the Savoys, but it is en- 
 tirely mine. I know it. I have been so sinfully 
 happy. I was too naughty and wicked. God did 
 not punish me immediately, but waited until I am 
 trebly vulnerable through thee and these two babes. 
 Now I know I shall lose you all. " 
 
 Ruspoli took them in his embrace and said : 
 
 "My joy, my life complete, as if thou couldst have 
 anything to do with this. Thou dost not understand 
 the Italians. Why, they prepare a revolution as 
 quickly as a chemist a prescription. This trouble 
 is no one's fault except that of the dead, the climate, 
 and circumstances. It was made a century before 
 thou wast born. It is merely a step in civilization." 
 
 Outside the rioters with guns, clubs, knives, and 
 picks beat up against the soldiers. One of the mob 
 fired a shot. 
 
 " What is that? " cried Theodosia, starting toward 
 the window. 
 
 Ruspoli held her head in his hands and pressed his 
 thumbs tightly over her ears while the report of 
 half a hundred guns filled the air. There was silence 
 
 307 
 
THE SOCIALIST AND THE PRINCE 
 
 broken only by the sound of fleeing feet. The Prince 
 forced the ladies to remain in a barred, secluded room 
 while he looked out upon the street. 
 
 The soldiers were on guard and had almost dis- 
 persed the mob. The rioters carried their wounded 
 with them and a few remained behind, struggling to 
 remove a dead body. Ruspoli saw these half-dozen 
 men taken prisoners, and ran below to release them. 
 
 " Colonnello, we are not living in the dark ages. 
 Let those poor fellows have the body of their friend." 
 
 " You do not understand, Prince Ruspoli. There 
 is the key, the mystery to this revolution. A score 
 of men were wounded and still the rioters advanced 
 upon us steadily. When this man fell, they broke 
 and his followers fought for his body like dogs over 
 a bone." 
 
 " Let them have it, Colonnello." 
 
 " The government will not allow it, Prince Ruspoli. 
 The outbreak was put down by our soldiers to-day. 
 We must have this man's corpse to learn who the 
 other conspirators are. " 
 
 Theodosia was by her husband's side. 
 
 " Go back, I pray," said Ruspoli. " This is no fit 
 place for thee." 
 
 " May I not see as well as thou, Alessandro ? " 
 pleaded she. The Prince and Princess Ruspoli and 
 
 the colonel went down the broad stone steps of the 
 
 308 
 
THE LAST MEETING 
 
 Palazzo to the street where the soldiers guarded the 
 prisoners. The captured rioters looked prayerfully 
 at the Prince. They had placed their coats under 
 their leader's body. 
 
 The chief lay quite rigid, his blue clothing stained 
 with red life gushing from his heart; his pallid face 
 was thin and drawn. The lips were parted. His 
 gray eyes, set in deep sockets, stared upward as tho 
 they could see. It seemed to Theodosia that they 
 smiled as they met hers. Extending across the 
 broad, thick, ivory brow was a pink mark like a scar. 
 The Princess clutched her husband's arm. Their 
 glances met with full understanding that it was 
 Stryne. 
 
 "I told thee, Alessandro, that this revolution is 
 my fault," said she faintly, closing her lids on the 
 view of the dead. 
 
 " That is the man, he with the scar, Prince Ruspoli, 
 What a miserable wretch, an anarchist who believed 
 he could rule Italy," remarked the old colonel in 
 disgust. 
 
 " Perhaps he could, better than we, Colonnello. 
 There is something in the man which makes me 
 think he should have been a prince, but instead of a 
 crown he received a scar. Colonnello, I speak for the 
 government. Give his body back to his friends." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 309