“I will tell you, with pleasure,” Arnold answered.  “You see, she is left absolutely alone in the world.  I do not grumble at the charge of her, for when I was nearly starving she was kind to me, and we passed our darkest days together.  On the other hand, I know that she feels it keenly, and I think it is only right to try and find out if she has no relatives or friends who could possibly look after her.”

“It is perfectly reasonable,” Sabatini confessed.  “I can tell you where to find Isaac Lalonde, if you wish.”

Arnold’s little exclamation was one almost of dismay.

“You know?” he cried.

“Naturally,” Sabatini admitted.  “You have a tender conscience, my young friend, and a very limited knowledge of the great necessities of the world.  You think that a man like Isaac Lalonde has no real place in a wholesome state of society.  You have some reason in what you think, but you are not altogether right.  In any case, this is the truth.  However much it may horrify you to know it, and notwithstanding our recent differences of opinion, communications have frequently taken place between the committee who are organizing the outbreak in Portugal, among which you may number me, and the extreme anarchists whom Isaac represents.”

“You would not really accept aid from such?” Arnold exclaimed.

Sabatini smiled tolerantly.

“There are many unworthy materials,” he said, “which go to the building of a great structure.  Youth rebels at their use but age and experience recognize their necessity.  The anarchist of your halfpenny papers and Police News is not always the bloodthirsty ruffian that you who read them are led to suppose.  Very often he is a man who strenuously seeks to see the light.  It is not always his fault if the way which is shown him to freedom must cross the rivers of blood.”

Arnold moved uneasily in his chair.  His host spoke with such quiet conviction that the stock arguments which rose to his lips seemed somehow curiously ineffective.

“Nevertheless,” he protested, “the philosophy of revolutions—­”

“We will not discuss it,” Sabatini declared, with a smile.  “You and I need not waste our time in academic discussion.  These things are beside the mark.  What I had to say to you is this.  If you really wish to speak with Isaac Lalonde, and will give me your word to keep the knowledge of him to yourself, I can tell you where to find him.”

“I do wish to speak to him for the reasons I have told you,” Arnold replied.  “If he were to disappear from the face of the earth, as seems extremely probable at the present moment, Ruth would be left without a friend in the world except myself.”

Sabatini wrote an address upon a slip of paper.

“You will find him there,” he announced.  “Go slowly, for the neighborhood is dangerous.  Can I drop you anywhere?”

Arnold shook his head.

“Thank you,” he said, “I must go straight back to the office.  I will take the tube from the corner.”