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 occupation and his last grew deeper into Sambor’s mind a restlessness almost amounting to resentment. “The duke of Troppau,” he said to Milada, “twice gave me his promise of advancement, and twice he failed to keep his promise. And Milada, I am sincerely glad he broke his word. I have learned to form a new estimate of human nature. I long regarded men and women as lawful prey, to be seized by the most successful spoiler. That is the feeling that animates multitudes of plunderers who are called soldiers. That feeling has worked itself into the hearts of kings, and that feeling is associated with a ferocity towards all who differ from them in opinion as well as in possession. Each becomes, like the other, the foe of the spoiler. But it is all passed now. Milada; and I avow that it is to you that I owe my change of sentiment. I feel your hand on my brow yet. Milada; I drink again the cup you gave me; and I should be less than human if I did not rise to a better sense of human dignity, through the sympathy you have shown, and the gentle nobility you have exhibited. You have raised me up. Milada; and I thank you and love you, and honor you all the more for it.”

“Hush now,” said Milada, taking his hand and smiling archly; “how about your flirtation with Frau Agaphia Brzava? There was nothing in that, was there?”

“Only a soldier’s frolic,” replied Sambor. “Only a passing jest; and I now know it was you who gave me the May bliss. Frau Agaphia was there, but it was