"A man who has escaped death is not to be trusted on a point of
discretion,--he doesn't know how to select his friends. He is like a
spirit emerging from nowhere in the eternal void and grabs at the
first apparition that promises companionship in his embarrassing and
momentary isolation.... Well, I was so glad to see that Buckingham
Clorinda that I was willing to take her into my confidence at once....
She _seemed_ so sympathetic!... 'I commend your bravery,' she said
prettily, offering me her hand.... It was small and beautifully
moulded, yet firm and steady, and sent an electric thrill through me
like a flash.... Her eyes would disarm the most suspicious diplomatic
free-lance in the world.... Struck with admiration, hypnotized by her
voice, I could only blurt, 'I thank you.'
"...'We are looking for a man of approved courage,' she continued
earnestly; 'we are more than satisfied that YOU are the man.'... Again
I muttered my thanks.... 'How long have you been a member?' she then
asked carelessly.... THIS was not so easily answered.... I thought
quickly.... 'Long enough to KNOW my lesson!' I answered oracularly....
'You still remember your instructions?'... 'What instructions?' She
answered my question by asking, 'Were they not BURNED?'... 'Who is
this encyclopædic lady?' I asked myself. 'What manner of TRAP is she
setting for me now?'... 'Why did you SANDBAG me?' was MY answer....
'You are NOT to ask questions,' she returned. 'Are you not satisfied
with results?'...
"... 'I am still alive.'... 'Well,' she smiled, 'a _live_ Bolshevik,
of OUR kind, is much better than a dead diplomat!'... I was taken into
an improvised kitchen and indulged in a splendid meal.... I took no
wine....
"... My meal being finished _she_ offered me an excellent
cigarette.... Glancing up through a ring of smoke my eyes fell upon
a rough black-and-white sketch of a tall, smooth-faced, keen-eyed
man with rather large ears, firm and thin-cut lips, high forehead and
steadfast gaze, dressed in the uniform of a General Officer, with a
single decoration on his left breast.... _she_ observed me closely as
I gazed.... I KNEW this man and was about to exclaim: '_The savior
of this country!_'... but something restrained my enthusiasm.... 'You
recognize him, I see,' she insinuated.... 'WHO is he?' I dodged....
She merely smiled.... She evidently realizes the wonderful power of
that disarming smile and the fascination of good teeth in a shapely
head.... 'You'll do!' she said with apparent reservation as she tapped
a tiny bell....
"... A short, thickset man appeared--he is not positively _ugly_, but
he has a way of staring at one that is rather ill-bred.... There is a
gold band around his left wrist and a scar upon his right cheek....
I am sure he is the SAME man I met at one of Sadakichi-Hartmann's
readings from Ibsen's _Ghosts_.... He may recall the time.... It was
in an abandoned palace on Russian Hill, somewhere in America; the lady
at his left was discussing the difficulties of getting her motor car
into Ragiz; the younger one on his right was known as Alma and gave
her address as East 61st Street, New York.... and ALL THREE were quite
convinced that the Central Powers will defeat the Allies.... He is an
international character and will remember this incident as well as the
following: '... This gentleman will join your party for Ekaterinburg
tonight, YOU understand. If there are any mistakes I shall not answer
for results!' There were NO introductions.... The man bowed and
began to back away.... 'YOU may accompany him,' she said, rising and
flitting from the room.... I believe I understand what this _party_
means!... There is to be a SHOOTING party at Ekaterinburg under the
auspices of the Bolshevists in a day or two and I may be ONE of
the '_mistakes_' for which that mystifying lady disclaims
responsibility.... My companion certainly looks like a bandit, and
manifests the strength of a wild bull.... He seems much interested in
that _patch_ on my shirt sleeve...."