ing behind that." Rasputin, for instance, what was he? Had he
power? We wonder a little and dismiss the thought.

On this night, at about 9 o'clock, the early diners had gone, but
there were about thirty of us left who would testify to the truth of
this tale. A man walked in and sat down at a large empty table. He was
a French civilian, dressed in black, tall and slim, with an enormous
brown beard--a "Landru." Marie Louise, one of the serving-girls, asked
him what he required, and he said: "A glass of Porto." This she
brought him, but as she was placing it on the table, he put out his
hand and touched her arm, and let his fingers run very gently up and
down it. He never spoke a word. She retired and returned with another
glass of port, and sat down beside him and commenced to drink it; no
word was uttered. Again he raised his hand, beckoned to another
serving-girl; the same act was gone through, and she sat down with her
port. This continued without a word of conversation until he had all
the serving-girls, about eight of them, sitting round in silence. We
all sat and looked on in amazement for a while, but after about ten
minutes hunger got the better of us, and we started calling them for
our food. They took not the slightest notice of us, but in the end we
made so much noise that Monsieur Dye, the manager of the hotel, came
in. He was a hot-tempered man, who never treated the girls under him
kindly, and when he saw and heard his customers shouting for food, and
saw all his serving-girls sitting down drinking port, his face went (p. 093)
black with rage, and he rushed over to their table and cursed them all
roundly, but they took not the slightest notice. Then he turned on the
man with the beard and ordered him out of the hotel. He never
answered, but got up slowly, put on his hat and left. As soon as he
rose from the table all the girls went back to their work as if
nothing had happened, and we continued our dinner. It was a strange
affair--not one of those girls remembered anything about it
afterwards.

[Illustration: XXXIX. _Field-Marshal Lord Plumer of Messines, G.C.B.,
etc._]

Again I went to Cassel, to paint General Plumer. I arrived there one
evening, and had dinner with Major-General Sir Bryan Mahon, who was on
his way to Lille. I woke up in the morning, got out of bed and
collapsed on the floor. "'Flu!" After three days the M.O. said I must
go to hospital. I said: "Hospital be damned! I'm going to paint