at all.

It was later in the day when Barlasch made his way into the low and
smoke-grimed Bier Halle of the Weissen Ross'l. He must have known
Sebastian's habits, for he went straight to that corner of the great
room where the violin-player usually sat. The stout waitress--a country
girl of no intelligence, smiled broadly at the sight of such a ragged
customer as she followed him down the length of the sawdust-strewn
floor.

Sebastian's face showed no surprise when he looked up and recognized the
new-comer. The surrounding tables were empty. It was too early in the
evening for the regular customers, whose numbers, moreover, had been
sadly thinned during the last few months. For the peaceful Dantzigers,
remembering the siege of seven years ago, had mostly fled at the first
mention of the word.

Sebastian nodded in answer to Barlasch's somewhat ceremonious bow, and
by a gesture invited him to be seated on the chair upon which he had
already laid his hand. The atmosphere of the room was warm, and Barlasch
laid aside his sheepskin coat, as he had seen the great and the rich
divest themselves of their sables. He turned sharply and caught the
waitress with an amused smile still on her face. He drew her attention
to a little pool of beer on the table, and stood until she had made good
this lapse in her duty. Then he pointed to Sebastian's mug of beer
and dismissed her giggling, to get one for him of the same size and
contents.

Making sure that there was no one within earshot, he waited until
Sebastian's dreamy eye met his, and then said--

"It is time we understood each other."

A light of surprise--passing and half-indifferent--flashed into
Sebastian's eyes and vanished again at once when he saw Barlasch had
meant nothing: made no sign or countersign with his hand.

"By all means, my friend," he answered.

"I delivered your letters," said Barlasch, "at Thorn and at the other
places."

"I know; I have already had answers. You would be wise to forget the
incident."

Barlasch shrugged his shoulders.

"You were paid," said Sebastian, jumping to a natural conclusion.

"A little," admitted Barlasch, "a small little--but it was not that. I
always get paid in advance, when I can. Except by the Emperor. He
owes me some--that citizen. It was another question. In the house I am
friends with all--with Lisa who has gone--with Mademoiselle Mathilde
who has gone--with Mademoiselle Desiree, so-called Madame Darragon, who
r