“Let him come in here, then.”

Edwards came in, and shook hands with Natalie in an embarrassed manner.  Then he produced a little packet.

“I have a commission, Miss Lind.  It is from Signor Calabressa.  He sends you this necklace, and says I am to tell you that he thinks of you always.”

The message had been in reality that Calabressa “thought of her and loved her always.”  But Edwards was a shy person, and did not like to pronounce the word “love” to this beautiful girl, who regarded him with such proud, frank eyes.

“He has not returned with you, then?”

“No.”

“But you can send him a message?”

“I will when I hear of his address.”

“Then you will tell him—­will you be so kind?—­that the little Natalushka—­that is myself,” she said, smiling; “you will tell him that the little Natalushka thanks him, and is not likely to forget him.”

The interview between the new visitor and Mr. Lind was speedily got over.  Lind excused himself for giving Edwards the trouble of this second appointment by saying he had been much engrossed with serious business during the day.  There was, indeed, little new to be communicated about the Kirski and Calabressa escapade, though Edwards repeated the details as minutely as possible.  He accepted a cigar, and left.

Then Lind got his overcoat and hat and went out of the house.  A hansom took him along to Lisle Street:  he arrived there just as ten was striking.

There were two men at the door; they were Beratinsky and Reitzei.  All three entered and went up the narrow stair in the dark, for the old German had gone.  There was some fumbling for matches on the landing; then a light was procured, and the gas lit in the central room.  Mr. Lind sat down at his desk; the other two drew in chairs.  The whole house was intently silent.

“I am sorry to take you away from your amusements,” said he, civilly enough; “but you will soon be able to return to them.  The matter is of importance.  Edwards has returned.”

Both men nodded; Reitzei had, in fact, informed his companion.

“As I anticipated, Calabressa’s absurd proposal has been rejected, if not even scoffed at.  Now, this affair must not be played with any longer.  The Council has charged us, the English section, with a certain duty; we must set about having it performed at once.”

“There is a year’s grace,” Beratinsky observed, but Lind interrupted him curtly.

“There may be a year’s grace or less allowed to the infamous priest; there is none allowed to us.  We must have our agent ready.  Why, man, do you think a thing like that can be done off-hand, without long and elaborate planning?”

Beratinsky was silenced.

“Are we to have the Council think that we are playing with them?  And that was not the only thing in connection with the Calabressa scheme which you, Reitzei, were the first to advocate.  Every additional person whom you let into the secret is a possible weak point in the carrying out of the design; do you perceive that?  And you had to let this man Edwards into it.”