New-York tribune., 1911-03-19
Continued from page 3

@What address, Monsieur lc Baron! ne
ocl,ed rs he defercntialy held the door.
Saccarello vawned indfferently. "Oh'
toIl him the Champs Elysfes, the Bois: any
tb;ng " he replied. 81 need breath OF air.
AS they swung round into the boulevard
hevond observation, the chauffeur received a
fresh command. "Scventy-nine kue ug
Grenclle. called the passenger crsply. Ana
be quick about it, ,:.t,
Balked of what promised to be a EviS',
faro the man confidcd to his steering vince,
that the ancient behind was both wretcned
camcl and a pickle but he obeyed orders
and shot through the Place de Ia Concorde
at = speed that reused the ire, but eluded
the interference, of the police Saccarello' as
was his habit turned his head to glance at
the second fountain. 1t grimly amused him'
the friend of many Kings, to remember that
on that spot one of them had parted com
nanv with his anointed head. Crossing the
br;joe he welded TO another habit. ne
u,atrrfront spread its wonted spectacle; but
of the mvriad lights he singled only the IN
conspicuous group III the rear OF tile il1uJc
Of Napoleonc memories which To-Day Siici-
tcrs the German Embassy. nat 700 gave
him ironical amusement
/
of boulevard before, they tore past the Dep
Mics and the Ministry of War, struck at
sbarn angle into the narrow Rue de Belle
chasse skirted still another ministry, ana.
entering Grencle at last, that street OF
oraccf,l memories and stored dwellings,,
now gven over to officialdom, came With
nurr Of slackening mechanism to halt before
= courtyard which the stroke OF midnight,
INST sounding, should have pcoplcd with
ghosts in perukcs and brocadcS. There was
. norter at the gate who looked like MAJOR
prndcnnis: but he was not English, and
though he greeted the caller in trench, ne
was not a Frenchman. Nor, despite It's
setting. despite its builders, despite It's ghosts
of the old regime. was the house itself french.
lis soil. even. was alien territory. he arms
carved lust beneath its pcdimcnt were the
arms OF Russia.
AS Saccarcllo limped up the red car
n peted steps, he was met by a footfnan
who Invested him Of his coat and cereino-
niouslv threw open the door OF an ante
chamber. French workmen had wrought.
lis woodwork and wrcathcd its stucco gar
lands. French artists had painted the
chubby cupids and impossible landscapes OF
;ts Dancls: vet somehow the room was no
longer French. Portraits OF the Car ana
Czarina. a iewclcd icon, painting showing
the Ncva in wintcrtime. and remarkable
BYZANTINE mosaic. served TO stamp 1t with
the character OF its owners.
But Saccarclo'S wait here was bret. \ sec
ond door opened, and man Tar younger
than the visitor advanced with quick step to
greet and lead him to the inner chamber
Russia spoke here with still more emphasis
The desk. the bookShclves, the chairs were
massive and ornate. The scent Of Russian
cigarette pcryadcd every corner. ON a tab
orct stood 4 lighted Samovar, toward winch
the master OF the house made immediate
gesture.
Tea. Baron;
40. thank you.
n liqucur. then? y cigarette'D
Saccarclo drew from his pocket a villain
ouslv rolled cigar. which could have orlgi-
mated nowhere save below the Alps
Nothing but this. he said, and, accept.
ing light, blew an evil smelling cloud
through his muStache. I've met her. he
laconically announced. =.
The Russian smiled You lost no time.
ne said.
Il am too old to lose time.
And will she Scrvc-La Belle Amerl-