Axel Regor smiled languidly.
“No! I am what is called a free-born subject of the realm. I do what I like, though not always how I like, or when I like!”
“And you, Max Graub?”
“German!” said that individual firmly; “German to the backbone—Socialist to the soul!—and an enemy of all ruling sovereigns,—particularly the one that rules me!”
Thord smiled darkly.
“If you feel inclined to jest, Max Graub, I must warn you that jesting is not suited to the immediate moment.”
“Jesting! I never was more in earnest in my life!” declared Graub,—“Why have I left my native country? Merely because it is governed by Kaiser Wilhelm!”
Thord smiled again.
“The subject of nationality seems to excite all three of you,” he said, “and though we ask you the question pro forma, it is not absolutely necessary that we should know from whence you come. We require your names, and your oath of fealty; but before binding yourselves, I will read you our laws, and the rules of membership for this society; rules to which, if you join us, you are expected to conform.”
“Suppose, for the sake of argument,” said Pasquin Leroy,—“that after hearing the rules we found it wisest to draw back? Suppose my friends,—if not myself,—were disinclined to join your Society;—what would happen?”