coronet.  On handing it to the stranger, the latter bowed his thanks and made his apologies like a man of good breeding.  The Indian the while took the opportunity, in a few monkey-like bounds, to make good his escape.  The sight of the coat-of-arms on the cigarette-case aroused in Heideck the desire to make nearer acquaintance with his impetuous neighbour.  As though he had quite forgotten the extraordinary manner of his entrance into the room, he asked, blandly, if he might invite his neighbour, whom accident had thus thrust upon him, to a cigar and a “nightcap.”

The other accepted the invitation with amiable alacrity.  “You are also a commercial traveller, sir?” inquired Heideck; and on receiving an affirmative answer, continued, “we are then colleagues.  Are you satisfied with your results here?”

“Oh, things might be better.  There is too much competition.”

“Cotton?”

“No.  Bronze goods and silk.  Have brought some marvellous gold ornaments from Delhi.”

“Then probably your cigarette-case comes from Delhi also?” The oval eyes of the other shot over him in an inquiring glance.

“My cigarette-case?  No—­are you travelling perhaps in skins, colleague?  Do you deal in Cashmir goats?”

“I have everything.  My house trades in everything.”

“You do not come from Calcutta?”

“No! not from Calcutta.”

“Bad weather down there.  All my leather is spoilt.”

“Is it so damp there?”

“Vapour bath, I tell you; a real vapour bath!”

Heideck had long since made up his mind that he had a Russian before him.  But, in order to be quite on the safe side, he made a jocular remark in Russian.  His new acquaintance looked up astonished.

“You speak Russian, sir?”

“A little.”

“But you are no Russian?”

“No; I am a German, who, during a temporary stay in Russia, have picked up a little knowledge of languages.  We merchants go about a lot.”

The gentleman who, according to his statement, travelled in bronze and silk was evidently delighted to hear in a place where he had least expected it the familiar tones of his mother tongue, and Heideck did his utmost, with almost an excess of zeal, to keep him in good humour.  He called his servant and bade him get some hot water.

“It’s quite chilly to-night,” he said, turning to his guest.  “A hot brandy-and-water is not to be despised.”

“Ah,” said the Russian, “stop a moment; better chuck the water away and let something more palatable take its place.”

He went into his room and returned immediately with a bottle of sherry and two bottles of champagne.

“I will, with your permission, brew in this kettle a bowl in Russian fashion.  Sugar must go in too; for this champagne, prepared for English taste, is too dry, and must be sweetened to make it palatable for us.”  He poured the bottle of cognac, which the servant had brought, together with the sherry into the champagne and filled the glasses.