Part 7

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said with a foreign accent, “a very good boy, but he steals like a crow, and must have the whip occasionally. I am sure that he has concealed somewhere about him the five rupees which have been stolen from me again to-day.” On saying this, as if he considered this information quite sufficient explanation, he again caught hold of the black fellow, and with a single wrench tore the turban from his head. From the white, red-bordered cloth a few pieces of silver fell and rolled jingling over the tiles; and at the same time a larger object fell at Heideck’s feet. He picked it up and held in his hand a gold cigarette-case, the lid of which was engraved with a prince’s 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.

In German fashion the two gentlemen touched glasses. As they did so, Heideck once more attentively observed his new acquaintance. The lurking expression with which he felt that the eyes of the other were fixed upon him made him start for a moment. What if the Russian perhaps only had the same intention as himself, and only wanted to make his tongue wag with the champagne? At all events, he was now on his guard.

“May I ask you to try one of my Havannah cigars?” asked the Russian in passing his cigar-case. “The Indian cigars are not bad and very cheap. The Beaconsfield is my favourite brand. But now and then one must smoke something else for a change.”

Heideck accepted with thanks, and now began a fairly good booze, in which the Russian set the example. He was, however, evidently not so proof against the effects of the tasty and strong drink as was the German. With each minute he became more loquacious, and soon began to address his new friend as “Dear old chap,” and to narrate all manner of more or less compromising stories. He also, induced by several adroit questions on the part of Heideck, began to prate of his family affairs. He mocked at an old aunt of his, who was wont to cover her hair with roses the better to conceal bald spots, and added that this aunt was a great favourite at the Court of the Tsar, on account of her incomparable gossiping stories. It apparently never occurred to him that such intimate family relations were a rather strange subject for conversation in a commercial traveller.

In the course of his conversation he mentioned that not long before he had been in China.

“We are too slow, dear chap, much too slow,” he declared; “with fifty thousand men we could take all that we want, and we ought to have attacked those Japanese long since.”