desired to slap? Oh, one was Abdul
Houda, the Sultan's star-reader, who chattered about my Dark Star
horoscope in the Yildiz. And the other was the Sultan."

"Who?"

"Abdul Hamid."

"What? You wished to slap _his_ face?"

"Certainly. But Kutchuk Said and Kiamil Pasha requested me not
to--accompanied by gendarmes."

"You'd have lost your life," remarked Neeland.

"Yes. But then war would surely have come, and today my Emperor would
have held the Dardanelles where the Turkish flag is now flying over
German guns and German gunners."

He shook his head:

"Great mistake on my part," he muttered. "Should have pulled Abdul's
lop ears. Now, everything in Turkey is 'Yasak' except what Germans do
and say; and God knows we are farther than ever from St. Sophia....
I'm very thirsty with thinking so much, old fellow. Did you ever drink
German champagne?"

"I believe not----"

"Come on, then. You shall drink several gallons and never feel it.
It's the only thing German I could ever swallow."

"Prince Erlik, you have had considerable refreshment already."

"_Copain, t'en fais pas!_"

The spectacle of two young fellows in evening dress, in a friendly
tug-of-war under the lamp-posts of the Boulevard, amused the passing
populace; and Sengoun, noticing this, was inclined to mount a
boulevard bench and address the wayfarers, but Neeland pulled him down
and persuaded him into a quieter street, the rue Vilna.

"There's a German place, now!" exclaimed Sengoun, delighted.

And Neeland, turning to look, perceived the illuminated sign of the
Cafe des Bulgars.

German champagne had now become Sengoun's fixed idea; nothing could
dissuade him from it, nothing persuade him into a homeward bound taxi.
So Neeland, with a rather hazy idea that he ought not to do it,
entered the cafe with Senguon; and they seated themselves on a leather
wall-lounge before one of the numerous marble-topped tables.

"Listen," he said in a low voice to his companion, "this is a German
cafe, and we must be careful what we say. I'm not any too prudent and
I may forget this; but don't _you_!"

"Quite right, old fellow!" replied Sengoun, giving him an owlish look.
"I must never forget I'm a diplomat among these _sales Boches_----"

"Be careful, Sengoun! That expression is not diplomatic."

"Careful is the word, _mon vieux_," returned the other loudly and
cheerfully. "I'll bet you a dollar, three kopeks, and two sous that I
go over there and kiss the