"I ask your permission, Mr. Townshend, to consult for a moment
with my friends. The matter is of some importance, and I would
beg you to await us." So saying, he led the others out of doors,
and I heard them withdraw to a corner of the loggia. Now,
thought I, there is something afoot, and my long-sought romance
approaches fruition. The company of the Marjolaine, whom the
Count had sung of, have arrived at last.

Presently they returned and seated themselves at the table.

"You can be of great assistance to us, Mr. Townshend, and we
would fain take you into our confidence. Are you aware who is
this Count of Albany?"

I nodded. "It is a thin disguise to one familiar with history."

"Have you reached any estimate of his character or capabilities?
You speak to friends, and, let me tell you, it is a matter which
deeply concerns the Count's interests."

"I think him a kindly and pathetic old gentleman. He naturally
bears the mark of forty years' sojourn in the wilderness."

Mr. Galloway took snuff.

"We have business with him, but it is business which stands in
need of an agent. There is no one in the Count's suite with whom
we could discuss affairs?"