"even wickedness needs a
beginning."

"Bot, if I begin I may not stop. Zomzing more qviet ze first night. Haf
you a club?"

Mr Bunker pondered for a moment, and a curious smile stole across his
face. Then it vanished, and he answered readily, "Certainly, Baron, an
excellent idea. I haven't been to my club for so long that it never struck
me. Let us come."

"Goot!" cried the Baron, rising with alacrity.

They put on their coats (Mr Bunker's, it may be remarked, being a handsome
fur-lined garment), the porter hailed a cab, and the driver was ordered to
take them to the Regent's Club in Pall Mall. The Baron knew it by
reputation as the most exclusive in London, and his opinion of his friend
rose still higher.

They joined a jingling string of other hansoms and sped swiftly through
the exhilarating bustle of the streets. To the Baron it seemed as if a
great change had come over the city since he wandered disconsolately
before dinner. Carried swiftly to the music of the little bells through
the sharp air and the London night that is brighter than day, with a
friend by his side and a good dinner within, he marked the most
astonishing difference. All the people seemed to talk and laugh, and for
his own part he found it hard to keep his tongue still.

"I know ze name of ze Regent's," he said; "vun club of ze best, is it
not?"

"The very best club, Baron."

"Zey are all noble?"

"In many cases the receipts for their escutcheons are still in their
pockets."

Though the precise significance of this explanation was not quite clear to
the Baron, it sounded eminently satisfactory.

"Zo?" he said. "I shall be moch interested to see zem."

As they entered the club the porter stared at them curiously, and even
made a movement as though he would step out and address them; but Mr
Bunker, wishing him a courteous good evening, walked briskly up to the
hat-and-cloak racks in the hall. A young man had just hung up his hat, and
as he was divesting himself of his coat, Mr Bunker quickly took the hat
down, glanced at the name inside, and replaced it on its peg. Then he held
out his hand and addressed the young man cordially.

"Good evening, Transome, how are you?" said he, and, heedless of the look
of surprise on the other's face, he turned towards the Baron and added,
"Let me introduce the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg--Mr Transome. The Baron
has just come to England, and I thought he couldn't begin better than by a
visit to