lue--"you are the man I am looking for; and I can make your
fortune."

This was entirely in accordance with Mr. Soames' own views, and he
nodded, respectfully.

"I know," continued Gianapolis, proffering an excellent Egyptian
cigarette, "that you were cramped in your last situation--that you were
misunderstood"...

Soames, cigarette in hand, suppressed a start, and wondered if he were
turning pale. He selected a match with nervous care.

"The little matter of the silver spoons," continued Gianapolis, smiling
fraternally, "was perhaps an error of judgment. Although"--patting the
startled Soames upon the shoulder--"they were a legitimate perquisite;
I am not blaming you. But it takes so long to accumulate a really useful
balance in that petty way. Now"--he glanced cautiously about him--"I
can offer you a post under conditions which will place you above the
consideration of silver spoons!"

Soames, hastily finishing his cocktail, sought for words; but
Gianapolis, finishing his own, blandly ordered two more, and, tapping
Soames upon the knee, continued:

"Then that matter of the petty cash, and those trifling irregularities
in the wine-bill, you remember?--when you were with Colonel Hewett in
Nice?"...

Soames gripped the counter hard, staring at the newly arrived cocktail
as though it were hypnotizing him.

"These little matters," added Gianapolis, appreciatively sipping from
his own glass, "which would weigh heavily against your other references,
in the event of their being mentioned to any prospective employer"...

Soames knew beyond doubt that his face was very pale indeed.

"These little matters, then," pursued Gianapolis, "all go to prove to ME
that you are a man of enterprise and spirit--that you are the very man
I require. Now I can offer you a post in the establishment of Mr. Henry
Leroux, the novelist. The service will be easy. You will be required
to attend to callers and to wait at table upon special occasions. There
will be no valeting, and you will have undisputed charge of the pantry
and wine-cellar. In short, you will enjoy unusual liberty. The salary,
you would say? It will be the same as that which you received from Mr.
Mapleson"...

Soames raised his head drearily; he felt himself in the toils; he felt
himself a mined man.

"It isn't a salary," he began, "which"...

"My dear Mr. Soames," said Gianapolis, tapping him confidentially upon
the knee again--"my dear Soames, it isn't the salary,