sing notice of each other. When the meal was over Vassili
inscribed the number of his bedroom in large figures on the label of his
bottle of St. Emilion--after the manner of wise commercial-travellers in
continental hotels. He subsequently turned the bottle round so that
Claude de Chauxville could scarcely fail to read the number, and with a
vague and general bow he left the room.

In his apartment the genial Vassili threw more wood into the stove, drew
forward the two regulation arm-chairs, and lighted all the candles
provided. He then rang the bell and ordered liqueurs. There was
evidently something in the nature of an entertainment about to take
place in apartment No. 44 of the Hotel de Moscou.

Before long a discreet knock announced the arrival of the expected
visitor.

"Entrez!" cried Vassili; and De Chauxville stood before him, with a
smile which in French is called crane.

"A pleasure," said Vassili, behind his wooden face, "that I did not
anticipate in Tver."

"And consequently one that carries its own mitigation. An unanticipated
pleasure, mon ami, is always inopportune. I make no doubt that you were
sorry to see me."

"On the contrary. Will you sit?"

"I can hardly believe," went on De Chauxville, taking the proffered
chair, "that my appearance was opportune--on the principle, ha! ha! that
a flower growing out of place is a weed. Gentlemen of the--eh--Home
Office prefer, I know, to travel quietly!" He spread out his expressive
hands as if smoothing the path of M. Vassili through this stony world.
"Incognito," he added guilelessly.

"One does not publish one's name from the housetops," replied the
Russian, with a glimmer of pride in his eyes, "especially if it happen
to be not quite obscure; but between friends, my dear baron--between
friends."

"Yes. Then what are you doing in Tver?" enquired De Chauxville, with
engaging frankness.

"Ah, that is a long story. But I will tell you--never fear--I will tell
you on the usual terms."

"Viz?" enquired the Frenchman, lighting a cigarette.

Vassili accepted the match with a bow, and did likewise. He blew a
guileless cloud of smoke toward the dingy ceiling.

"Exchange, my dear baron, exchange."

"Oh, certainly," replied De Chauxville, who knew that Vassili was in all
probability fully informed as to his movements past and prospective. "I
am going to visit some old friends in this Government--the Lanovitches,
at Thors."

"Ah!"

"You know them?"