placid mountains. When the revolution broke out
in Russia he felt it was just the thing for him, and his German backers
felt he was just the man for it. So LENIN, whose real name isn't LENIN,
went into partnership with TROTSKY, whose real name isn't TROTSKY, and set
up in business in Moscow. But the thing was too good to be confined to
Russia; an export department was clearly called for. It was when they began
in the "off-licence" trade, in the "jug-and-bottle" business, that they ran
up against your Henry.

With the view of upheaving Switzerland, LENIN and Co. sent a Legation to
its capital, the principle being, no doubt, that before you cut another
people's throat you must first establish friendly relations. This Legation
arrived in May, 1918, when we were all so occupied with the War, making
returns and indents and things, that it hoped to pass unnoticed. But there
was something about that Legation which caught the eye; it had not the
Foreign Office look about it--smart Homburg hats, washleather gloves,
attache-cases with majestic locks, spats ... there was something missing.
It looked as if it might be so many Anarchists plotting a bomb affair.

And that's what it was. I suppose you will say I am inventing it when I
tell you that it used to sit round a table, in the basement of an Italian
restaurant, devising schemes for getting rid of people (especially people
like Charles) _en bloc_; that it didn't provide the Italian restaurant-
keeper with as much money as he thought he could do with; that the Italian
restaurant-keeper came round to see us after dark; wouldn't give his name;
came into the room hurriedly; locked the door behind him; whispered "H'st!"
and told us all about it. It requires an Italian to do that sort of thing
properly; but this fellow was better than the best. I couldn't go to a
cinema for months afterwards because it lacked the thrill of real life.

We were so impressed with his performance that we asked him his trade. He
dropped the sinister, assumed the bashful and told us that he was an
illusionist and juggler before he took to restaurant-keeping and sleuthing.
He juggled four empty ink-pots for our entertainment and made one of them
disappear. Not quite the way to treat a world-revolution; but there! This
was all in the autumn of 1918, when we were naturally a bit above
ourselves.

Switzerland has four frontiers--German, Austrian, Italian and French.
Lenin's Legation had opened up modestly an