Aladdin of London, or The Lodestar

Alban drew a chair to the table and began to eat with good appetite. His sense of humor was strong enough to lead him to despise such talk at any time, but to-day it exasperated him. Understanding perfectly well what was in the Count's mind, he was not to be trapped by any such artifice. Honesty is a card which a diplomatist rarely expects an opponent to hold. Alban held such a card and determined to play it without loss of time.

"I have seen Lois Boriskoff," he said.

"Again--that is quick work."

The Count looked up, still smiling.

"I told you that we should have no difficulties," he exclaimed.

Alban helped himself to some superb bisque soup and permitted the waiter to fill his glass from a flask of Chablis.

"It was quite an accident upon my part. I went up to the Castle as you advised me and then down into the old town. Lois is with her friends there. I have had a long talk to her and now I understand everything."

The Count nodded his head and sipped his wine. The frankness of all this deceived him but not wholly. The boy had discovered something--it remained to be seen how much.

"You are successful beyond hope," he exclaimed presently, "this will be great news for Mr. Gessner. Of course, you asked her plainly what had happened?"

"She told me without my asking, Count. Now I understand everything--for the first time."

The tone of the reply arrested Sergius' attention and brought a frown to his face. He kept his eyes upon Alban when next he spoke.

"Those people are splendid liars," he remarked as though he had been expecting just such a story--"of course she spoke about me. I can almost imagine what she said."

"It was a very great surprise to me," Alban rejoined, and with so simple an air that any immediate reply seemed impossible. For five minutes they ate and drank in silence. Then Count Sergius, excusing himself, stood up and went to the window.

"Is she to come to this hotel?" he asked anon.

"She would be very foolish to do so, Count."

"Foolish, my dear fellow, whatever do you mean?"

"I mean what I say--that she would be mad to put herself into your power."

The Count bit his lip. It had been many years since so direct an insult had been offered to him, and yet he did not know how to answer it.