from his well-displayed
teeth.

As the smoke of the cigarette drifted toward me, I was conscious of
an acute, but imperfect, twinge of memory. The sense of smell, though
the most neglected, is the most reliable sense with which we are
furnished. I could not be mistaken in thinking I had smelt tobacco
like that before.

"I have come to see you without losing a moment, Mr. Sterling," he
said in very good English. "My good friend Madame Y---- sent me a
note from the Palace to beg me to show you every attention. It is too
bad that an ambassador of peace--a friend of that great and good man,
Place, should be staying in a hotel, while hundreds of Russians would
be delighted to welcome him as their guest. My house is a poor one,
it is true, and I am hardly of high enough rank, still----"

The intriguer was asking me to transfer myself to his roof, to become
his prisoner, in effect.

"I cannot thank you enough," I responded, "but I am not going to
stay. The Princess has convinced me that the war-cloud will blow
over, and I think of going on to Constantinople to intercede with the
Sultan on behalf of the Armenians."

"A noble idea," M. Petrovitch responded warmly. "What would the world
do without such men as you? But at all events you will dine with me
before you go?"

It was the second invitation to dinner I had received that day. But,
after all, I could hardly suspect a trap in everything.

"Do you share the hopes of the Princess?" I asked M. Petrovitch,
after thanking him for his hospitality.

The syndicate-monger nodded.

"I have been working night and day for peace," he declared
impudently, "and I think I may claim that I have done some good. The
Japanese are seeking for an excuse to attack us, but they will not
get it."

"The Manchurian Syndicate?" I ventured to hint, rising to go to the
bell.

"The Syndicate is wholly in favor of peace," he assured me, watching
my movement with evident curiosity. "We require it, in fact, to
develop our mines, our timber concessions, our----"

A waiter entered in response to my ring.

"Bring me some cigarettes--your best," I ordered him.

As the man retreated it was borne in on my guest that he had been
guilty of smoking in my room without offering me his case.

"A thousand pardons!" he exclaimed. "Won't you try one of mine?"

I took a cigarette from the case he held out, turned it between my
fingers, and lit it from the end farthest from the maker's imprint.

"If