the table.

"Try this," urged Carmichael, offering his pouch.

"This will be good tobacco, I know." The vintner filled his pipe.

Carmichael followed this gift with many questions about wines and
vintages; and hidden in these questions were a dozen clever traps. But
the other walked over them, unhesitant, with a certainty of step which
chagrined the trapper.

By and by the vintner rose and bade his table-companion a good night. He
had not offered to buy anything, another sign puzzling to Carmichael.
This frugality was purely of the thrifty peasant. But the vintner was
not ungrateful, and he expressed many thanks. On his way to the door he
stopped, whispered into Gretchen's ear, and passed out into the black
street.

"Either he is a fine actor, or he is really what he says he is."
Carmichael was dissatisfied. "I'll stake my chances on being president
of the United States, which is safe enough as a wager, that this fellow
is not genuine. I'll watch him. I've stumbled upon a pretty romance of
some sort, but I fear that it is one-sided." He wrinkled his forehead,
but that part of his recollection he aimed to stir remained fallow, in
darkness.

The press in the room was thinning. There were vacant chairs here and
there now. A carter sauntered past and sat down unconcernedly at the
table occupied by the old man whose face Carmichael had not yet seen.
The two exchanged not even so much as a casual nod. A little later a
butcher approached the same table and seated himself after the manner of
the carter. It was only when the dusty baker came along and repeated
this procedure, preserving the same silence, that Carmichael's curiosity
was enlivened. This curiosity, however, was only of the evanescent
order. Undoubtedly they were socialists and this was a little conclave,
and the peculiar manner of their meeting, the silence and mystery, were
purely fictional. Socialism at that time revolved round the blowing up
of kings, of demolishing established order. Neither kings were blown up
nor order demolished, but it was a congenial topic over which to while
away an evening. This was in the German states; in Russia it was a
different matter.

Had Carmichael not fallen a-dreaming over his pipe he would have seen
the old man pass three slips of paper across the table; he would have
seen the carter, the butcher, and the baker pocket these slips
stolidly; he would have seen the mountaineer wave his hand sharply and
the trio rise and