seful than swords in Delgratz to-day, and
this, at the best, is but a gilded toy."

Stampoff was already inside a closed carriage, and Bosko was holding the
door open for Alec, who gave the driver clear instructions before he
entered. The vehicle rattled off, and Stampoff swore bluntly.

"Gods! I thought there would be a row," he growled. "That fellow is
Captain Drakovitch, I remember him well; he is all nose."

"I shall appoint him sanitary inspector," said Alec, sniffing.

Stampoff laughed. Now that they were fairly committed to Alec's scheme,
he was in excellent spirits. "By the patriarch! you certainly believe in
yourself, and I am beginning to believe in you!" he vowed.

But his faith was rudely shaken when Alec insisted on sending his own
card to Nesimir. "That is a mad thing," he protested. "He will refuse to
receive you and hand you over to the guard."

"On the contrary, he will hasten to meet us. Curiosity is the most
potent of human attributes. Even Presidents yield to it. At this moment,
in all likelihood, he is struggling into a frock coat."

Alec was right. A portly person, wearing, indeed, a frock coat, a sash,
and peg top trousers, appeared in the doorway of the presidential
mansion. He also wore an expression of deep amazement. He glanced from
the tall smiling youth to the diminutive General, on whom his eyes dwelt
searchingly.

"Yes," said Stampoff abruptly, speaking in French, "I am Paul Stampoff,
shorn of his fleece. This is the King," and he nodded to Alec.

"The King!"

"Alexis III., grandson of Ferdinand VII., and son of Michael V."

Nesimir hastily ordered a servant to close the outer door. As it
happened, the President's military guard was stationed at a gate on the
other side of the main courtyard, and no one could be aware of the
visitor's identity, except the man who had taken Alec's card, while he,
probably, was unable to read Roman script.

"Your Excellency will doubtless permit our baggage to be placed in the
hall?" said Alec, using the most musical of all the Slavonic tongues
with fluency.

The President, in that state of trepidation best described by the homely
phrase, "You could have knocked him down with a feather," seemed to
collapse utterly when he heard the stranger talking like a native.

"Certainly, your--certainly. I don't understand, of course; but I shall
give directions..." he stuttered. "You have come by train,
from--er--from the west? You have not breakfasted?