"Better not talk now, or I shall be cutting your face," interposed the old servant. "Let the young gentleman go on ahead, and you can follow him as soon as I have made you presentable. You won't need any rope ladder or skeleton key to get into the Plankenhorst house." Jenő adopted this suggestion, and half an hour later his brother joined him in the Plankenhorst parlours. Jenő hastened to present the newcomer to the hostess and her daughter, both of whom remembered that they had already had the pleasure of meeting him. The mother declared herself delighted to welcome him under her own roof, to which Richard replied with an appropriate compliment, and then made room for other arrivals. "Shall I introduce you to some of the people here?" asked Jenő. "No, don't trouble yourself; I know them better than you do. That marshal over there, with the military figure and a voice as loud as if he were commanding a brigade, is an officer in the commissary department. He spends his time in weighing out provender, and has never smelt gunpowder except on the emperor's birthday. The young prince yonder, with the condescending smile and his eye-glasses stuck high up on his nose, is secretary to the chief of police, and a very influential man. The duenna in the coffee-coloured dress and with paint on her cheeks, is the wife of Blumenbach, the banker, who lends money to the spendthrift young aristocrats, and, consequently, knows all that is going on in high society. And the young lady near us, talking and smiling so confidentially with a young man about your age, is the most accomplished detective that ever ferreted out a secret; but aside from that she is a very nice little innocent creature." Jenő felt not entirely at his ease as he listened to his brother, whom he suspected of entertaining no very high opinion of the whole company. "The little maid that I met on the stairs," resumed Richard, "pleases me more than all this company put together. I don't know whether she belongs in the house, but I came here to-night wholly on her account. I pinched her cheek as she was running away from me, and she gave me a slap on the hand that I can feel now." The last words received but scant attention from Jenő, as a certain illustrious ornament of society had caught sight of the two brothers and was hastening toward them. He was a tall, angular man, with a sharp nose and a little pointed beard. Greeting Jenő on the way, he made straight for the elder brother, and placed his bony hand familiarly on the young man's shoulder. "Your humble servant, my dear Richard!" he exclaimed in Hungarian. The other returned the greeting with much coolness and indifference. The angular gentleman pulled at his beard as if not wholly pleased with his reception, and Jenő bit his lip in vexation at his brother's conduct. "Well, how are you?" asked the tall gentleman, with gracious condescension. "Well enough," replied Richard nonchalantly; "and I see you are in good trim, too."