The Vultures

s was the leading power of eastern Europe. At Cracow-the tomb of many kings-it passes half round the citadel, a shallow, sluggish river; and from the ancient capi

es; in the river between Praga and the citadel two thousand were drowned. Less than forty years ago a crowd of Poles assembled in the square in front of the castle to protest against the tyranny of their conquerors. T

treet has a terrible name-the Krakowski Przedmiescie. It is in this Krakowski Faubourg that the Hotel de l'Europe stands, where history in its time has played a part, where kings and princes have slept, where the Jew Hermani was murdered, where the

soul was within almost measurable distance of snappishness-"tol

the rising town of New Canterbury, Massachusetts, when the deputation of Women Workers and Wishful Waiters for the Truth failed to reach the railway depot because

in had shaken its official head when she proposed to visit its plenipotentiaries, and hers was the ignob

Miss Mangles, watching the hotel porters in a

s worse

g, and yet with a ring of determination in it, as if to say

his hour in the morning it appears to be a one-

ooking not at her brother, but at the imposing hotel concierge with a blan

ore difficult still, to keep the right silence. Either this, or the fact that Miss Mangles was conscious of having convinced her hearers that she was as expert in the lighter swordplay of debate as i

in a voice of deep depression which only added to the

ch, Polish, Ge

Mangles, in his own tongue. "We'll get

floor rooms and a salon had been bespoken, and waved his

at leisure by a maid. Miss Netty had on the surface a little manner of self-depreciating flurry which sometimes seemed to conceal a deep and abiding calm. She had little worldly theories, too, which she often enunciated in her confidential

g with a good dressmaker. At the head of the stairs she gave a little cry of surprise, for Paul Deulin was coming along the broad corridor towards her, swingin

before her, "who could have dreamed of such a pl

h-you were singing,"

emoiselle, and I was singing

ic. I only know when I like to hear a person's voice. I have no accomplishme

ite clearly his opinion that she had need of none.

e to feminine moments, and may know when she is not looking her best.

"Got here before us? Thought y

rrived, I suppos

y. "Of course you can see that. You must know

er hair. It was pretty hair and a pretty, slim, American hand. But she did not seem to hear, for she had turned away quickly and was s

for an explanation of her heightened color. She was one of those fortunate persons who blush easily-at the right time. "I am

nter down-stairs. I knew him when he was an Austrian nobleman, tr

ou stay

ied Deulin, "when I came ou

r have Polish friends, h

rsaw," was

ld of the gorgeous apartment. He tapped the number on the door in order to draw Deulin's atte

nswered Deulin, lookin

is a broad street, with palaces and churches on either side. Every palace has its story; two of them were confiscated by the Russian government because a bomb, which was thrown from the pavement, might possibly have come from one of t

. The clocks were striking the hour. He took off his hat, and

I have already told several lies, and it is only eight o'

e right up a broad street and then to the left into a narrower, quieter thoroughfare, called the Jasna. The houses in the Jasna are mostly large, with court-yards, where a few trees struggle for existence. They

ussian doorkeeper as he passed the lodge. This was the second floor, and the do

ired, and called the ma

ow corridor. He opened a door, and stood aside for Deulin to pass into a

book and went towards the window, where he sat down in a deep arm-chai

looked at Deulin gravely beneath his thoughtful br

le for your future, Cartoner. You take life so seriously-you, who need not work at all. Even uncles cannot live f

cted for

to take an apartment instead of going to the hotel. The Mangles arrived here this morning-Mangles frere,

ner, how old

if

enough to play the part of an old

ught of something to put down, and in his odd, dire

rtoner paused, pen in hand-"what would you th

ky man if Netty Cahere fell in

n shrugged h

You want your wife to be in love with you. Odd! I suppose it is English. Well, I don't know if there is any harm do

replied Carto

dd smile, but Cartoner was loo

s her quiet ways," sugge

es

ple of sharp sighs which caught him unawares, must have been thinking of Netty Cahere. At length

e took off his hat

" he murmur