of our agreeable conversation. With some slight hesitation however he ventured to ask whether I would not give him the extreme pleasure of my company at dinner that night, provided I would excuse such an invitation from a complete stranger after so short an acquaintance. I happened to be disengaged that day, with the uninviting prospect of a solitary evening at my club before me; and my alacrity in accepting his hospitality caused obvious satisfaction to Signor d'Aragno, who named one of the large London hotels for our trysting-place. We shook hands cordially, and separated with a warm _a rivederla_. * * * * * Arrived punctually at eight o'clock at the ---- Hotel, I was shown upstairs to my host's private apartment, and a few moments later we two were sitting at table and resuming our interrupted discussion of the Café Royale. By the time we had reached the stage of dessert, and the waiters had retired, this topic had somewhat flagged, and the conversation now took on a more personal complexion. The praise that had hitherto been lavishly accorded to my books was now deftly and tactfully--though of course I was unaware of the change at the actual time--shifted to myself and my exceptional gifts of mind. Leading skilfully from one point to another, d'Aragno finally stated his opinion that my inherent genius, my political views, and my remarkable culture were altogether such as marked me out as a person born to rule, as a Homeric _anax andrõn_. The generous wine I had swallowed, the intoxicating but judicious adulation and insinuating personality of my host alike operated to arouse in me that keen desire for power I had ofttimes secretly indulged in; whilst at the same time they generated an indescribable sense of bitterness against the world at large for its neglect or ignorance of so marvellous a genius as mine. I am certain now (though at the time I was quite unconscious of its employment) the will of my companion was working with every force at its command to communicate with my brain and to instil therein the full appreciation of the special object he had in view. We proceeded to higher and higher planes of argument; the famous names of history fell frequently from our lips, as we spoke of the ideal Prince of Machiavelli, of the demi-god of Corsica, of the super-man of Nietzsche, of the mystical powers wielded by the Pope of Rome and the Dalai Lama. The hours flew by on rosy wings; midnight had passed, and the gong of Big Ben had just hurled its solitary stroke of one o'clock booming through the dank foggy air without that enveloped a London grown at last comparatively silent. How well do I recall that precise moment! The reverberation of the clanging knell had scarcely subsided when my host, making a brusque movement in his chair, bluntly placed the great proposition before me, and offered me a kingdom, though not a kingdom of this world! II