it myself, there ain't a man in
New York with my experience, tact and finesse. Show me a job that can be
done single-handed, with a dividend at the end of it, and I'll show you
a man who can take it on. In the meantime," said he affably, "the drinks
are on me. Call the waiter, and order the best in the house."

Serganoff held up his hand.

"Wait," he said; "was that the door?"

Nicholas nodded, and the whole room stood in silence and watched the
door slowly open. There was a gasp of astonishment, of genuine
surprise, for Irene Yaroslav was well known to them, and it was Irene
Yaroslav who stood with her back to the door. She wore a long black
cloak of sable and by her coiffure it was evident that she was wearing
an evening toilette beneath the cloak.

"Where is Israel Kensky?" she asked.

She did not immediately see the man in the masked face, for he sat under
a light and his broad-brimmed hat threw his face into shadow.

Nobody answered her, and she asked again:

"Where is Israel Kensky?"

"He is not here," said Serganoff coolly, as she took two paces and
stopped dead, clasping her hands before her.

"What does this mean?" she asked. "What are you doing here, Ser----"

"Stop!" His voice was almost a shout, and yet there was a shake in it.

Serganoff realized the danger of his own position, if amongst these men
were some who had cause to hate him.

"Do not mention my name, Irene."

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "And where is Israel Kensky?"

"He has not come," Serganoff's voice was uneven and his hands shook.

She turned to go, but he was before her and stood with his back to the
entrance.

"You will wait," he said.

"What insolence is this?" she demanded haughtily. "I had a letter from
Israel Kensky telling me to come here under his protection and I should
learn the truth of the plot against my father."

Serganoff had recovered something of his self-possession and laughed
softly.

"It was I who sent you that letter, Irene. I sent it because I
particularly desired you here at this moment."

"You shall pay for this," she said, and tried to force her way past him,
but his strong hands gripped her and pushed her back.

She turned with a flaming face upon the men.

"Are you men," she asked, "that you allow this villain, who betrayed my
father and will betray you, to treat a woman so."

She spoke in Russian, and nobody moved. Then a voice said:

"Speak English, miss."

She turned and