self cross-legged on the
divan.

He touched a tiny gong, and Cleon entered.

"Select a hookah for Monsieur Ducie, and prepare it."

So Cleon, having chosen a pipe, tipped it with a new amber mouthpiece,
charged the bowl with fragrant Turkish tobacco, handed the stem to
Ducie, and then applied the light. The same service was next performed
for his master. Then he withdrew, but only to reappear a minute or two
later with coffee served up in the Oriental fashion--black and strong,
without sugar or cream.

"This is one of my little smoke-nights," said Platzoff as soon as they
were alone. "Last night was one of my big smoke-nights."

"You speak a language I do not understand."

"I call those occasions on which I smoke opium my big smoke-nights."

"Can it be true that you are an opium smoker?" said Ducie.

"It can be and is quite true that I am addicted to that so-called
pernicious habit. To me it is one of the few good things this world has
to offer. Opium is the key that unlocks the golden gates of Dreamland.
To its disciples alone is revealed the true secret of subjective
happiness. But we will talk more of this at some future time."

CHAPTER XII.

THE AMSTERDAM EDITION OF 1698.

Captain Ducie soon fell into the quiet routine of life at Bon Repos. It
was not distasteful to him. To a younger man it might have seemed to
lack variety, to have impinged too closely on the verge of dulness; but
Captain Ducie had reached that time of life when quiet pleasures please
the most, and when much can be forgiven the man who sets before you a
dinner worth eating. Not that Ducie had anything to forgive. Platzoff
had contracted a great liking for his guest, and his hospitality was of
that cordial quality which makes the object of it feel himself
thoroughly at home. Besides this, the Captain knew when he was well off,
and had no wish to exchange his present pleasant quarters, his rambles
across the hills, and his sailings on the lake, for his dingy bed-room
in town with the harassing, hunted down life of a man upon whom a dozen
writs are waiting to be served, and who can never feel certain that his
next day's dinner may not be eaten behind the locks and bars of a
prison.

Sometimes on horseback, sometimes on foot, sometimes accompanied by his
host, sometimes alone, Ducie explored the lovely country round Bon Repos
to his heart's content. Another source of pleasure and healthful
exercise he found in long solitary pulls