promised land, looked forward to the
realisation of those wonderful visions which the Greek agent had so
carefully sketched.

In half a dozen South American towns the proprietors of as many dance
halls would look over the new importations approvingly and remit their
bank drafts to the merchant of Mincing Court. It was a profitable
business, particularly in pre-war days.

The colonel departed from his usual practice and met the Greek himself,
the place of meeting being a small hotel in Aldgate. Whatever other
pretences the colonel made, he did not attempt to continue the fiction
that he was ignorant of the Greek's trade.

"Paul," he said after the first greetings were over, "I've been a good
friend to you."

"You have indeed, colonel," said the man gratefully.

He spoke English with a very slight accent, for he had been born and
educated in London.

"If ever I can render you a service----"

"You can," said the colonel, "but it is not going to be easy."

The Greek eyed him curiously.

"Easy or hard," he said, "I'll go through with it."

The colonel nodded.

"How is the business in South America?" he asked suddenly.

The Greek spread out his hands in deprecation.

"The war!" he said tragically, "you can imagine what it has been like.
All those girls waiting for music-hall engagements and impossible to
ship them owing to the fleets. I must have lost thousands of pounds."

"The demand hasn't slackened off, eh?" asked the colonel, and the Greek
smiled.

"South America is full of money. They have millions--billions. Almost
every other man is a millionaire. The music-halls have patrons but no
talent."

The colonel smiled grimly.

"There's a girl in London of exceptional ability," he said. "She has
appeared in a music-hall here, and she's as beautiful as a dream."

"English?" asked the Greek eagerly.

"Irish, which is better," said the other; "as pretty as a picture, I
tell you. The men will rave about her."

The Greek looked puzzled.

"Does she want to go?" he asked.

The colonel snarled round at him:

"Do you think I should come and ask you to book her passage if she
wanted to go?" he demanded. "Of course she doesn't want to go, and she
doesn't know she's going. But I want her out of the way, you
understand?"

Mr. Phillopolis pulled a long face.

"To take her from England?"

"From London," said the colonel.

The Greek shook his head.

"It is impossible," he said; "passports are required