Mr. Sabin sat quite still in his corner; his eyes seemed fixed upon a distant hill, bordering the flat country through which they were passing. Felix's stinging words and mocking smile had no meaning for him. In fact he did not see his companion any longer, nor was he conscious of his presence. The narrow confines of the railway carriage had fallen away. He was in a lofty room, in a chamber of a palace, a privileged guest, the lover of the woman whose dark, passionate eyes and soft, white arms were gleaming there before his eyes. It was but one of many such scenes. He shuddered very slightly, as he went back further still. He had been faithful to one god, and one god only--the god of self! Was it a sign of coming trouble, that for the first time for many years he had abandoned himself to the impotent morbidness of abstract thought? He shook himself free from it with an effort; what lunacy! To-day he was on the eve of a mighty success--his feet were planted firmly upon the threshold! The end of all his ambitions stood fairly in view, and the path to it was wide and easy. Only a little time, and his must be one of the first names in Europe! The thought thrilled him, the little flood of impersonal recollections ebbed away; he was himself again, keen, alert, vigorous! Suddenly he met the eyes of his companion fixed steadfastly upon him, and his face darkened. There was something ominous about this man's appearance; his very presence seemed like a foreboding of disaster. "I am much obliged to you for your little romance," he said. "There is one point, however, which needs some explanation. If your interest is really, as you suggest, at an end, what are you doing down here? I presume that your appearance is not altogether a coincidence." "Certainly not," Felix answered. "Let me correct you, however, on one trifling point. I said, you must remember--my personal interest." "I do not," Mr. Sabin remarked, "exactly see the distinction; in fact, I do not follow you at all!" "I am so stupid," Felix declared apologetically. "I ought to have explained myself more clearly. It is even possible that you, who know everything, may yet be ignorant of my present position." "I certainly have no knowledge of it," Mr. Sabin admitted. Felix was gently astonished. "Really! I took it for granted, of course, that you knew. Well, I am employed--not in any important post, of course--at the Russian Embassy. His Excellency has been very kind to me." Mr. Sabin for once felt his nerve grow weak; those evil forebodings of his had very swiftly become verified. This man was his enemy. Yet he recovered himself almost as quickly. What had he to fear? His was still the winning hand. "I am pleased to hear," he said, "that you have found such creditable employment. I hope you will make every effort to retain it; you have thrown away many chances."