“Conditions not altogether easy to fulfill,” remarked Kovroff doubtfully.

“So it seems.  And daring plans are not to be picked up in the street, but are the result of inspiration.  It is what is called a ’heavenly gift,’ my dear friend.”

“And you have had an inspiration?” smiled Sergei Antonovitch, with a slightly ironical shade of friendly skepticism.

“I have had an inspiration,” replied the supposititious Hungarian nobleman, falling into the other’s tone.

“And your muse is——?”

“The tenth of the muses,” the count interrupted him:  “another name is Industry.”

“She is the muse of all of us.”

“And mine in particular.  But we are not concerned with her, but with her prophetic revelations.”

“Oh, dear count!  Circumlocutions apart!  This Rhine wine evidently carries you to misty Germany.  Tell me simply what the matter is.”

“The matter is simply this:  we must institute a society of ’gold miners,’ and we must find gold in places where the geological indications are dead against it.  That is the problem.  The Russian laws, under threat of arrest and punishment, sternly forbid the citizens of the Russian Empire, and likewise the citizens of other lands within the empire, to buy or sell the noble metals in their crude form, that is, in nuggets, ore, or dust.  For example, if you bought gold in the rough from me—­gold dust, for example—­we should both, according to law, have to take a pleasant little trip beyond the Ural Mountains to Siberia, and there we should have to engage in mining the precious metal ourselves.  A worthy occupation, no doubt, but not a very profitable one for us.”

“Our luxuries would be strictly limited,” jested Kovroff, with a wry smile.

“There it is!  You won’t find many volunteers for that occupation, and that is the fulcrum of my whole plan.  You must understand that gold dust in the mass is practically indistinguishable in appearance from brass filings.  Let us suppose that we secretly sell some perfectly pure brass filings for gold dust, and that they are readily bought of us, because we sell considerably below the market rate.  It goes without saying that the purchaser will presently discover that we have done him brown.  But, I ask you, will he go and accuse us knowing that, as the penalty for his purchase, he will have to accompany us along the Siberian road?”

“No man is his own enemy,” sententiously replied Kovroff, beginning to take a vivid interest in what his companion was saying.  “But how are you going to work it?”

“You will know at the proper time.  The chief thing is, that our problem is solved in the most decisive manner.  You and I are pretty fair judges of human nature, so we may be pretty sure that we shall always find purchasers, and I suggest that we make a beginning on young Prince Shadursky.  How we shall get him into it is my business.  I’ll tell you later on.  But how do you like the general idea of my plan?”