It was nearer three when he pushed his plate away and signified to the servant that he had finished his breakfast. A morsel of toast and caviare assisted by a glass of brandy and soda-water is not a meal suggestive of abstemious habits, and, indeed, the Shan of Koordstan by no means erred in that direction. He looked older than his years, and had it not been for his dusky complexion and yellow eyes, might have passed for a European of swarthy type. His features were quite regular and fairly handsome; he was dressed in the most correct Bond Street fashion, the cigarette he held between his shaky fingers might have come from any first-class club. "I’ve got a devil of a head," he said, as the servant softly crept away with the tray. "I shall have to drop that old Cambridge set. I can’t stand their ways. If anybody comes I am out, at least out to everybody besides Mr. Harold Denvers; you understand." The servant bowed and retired. He came back presently with a card on a salver, and he of Koordstan gave a careless nod of assent. The next moment Harold Denvers came into the room. He sniffed at the mingled odour of brandy and cigarette smoke, and smiled. Koordstan was watching him with those eyes that never rested. Their side gleam and the hard set of the grinning mouth showed that a tiger was concealed there under a thin veneer of Western civilisation. "You’ve got back again, Denvers," he said. "’Pon my word, you’re devilish lucky. They had quite meant to put you out of the way this time." "Your Highness is alluding to Sir Clement Frobisher, of course," Harold said. Koordstan crossed over to an alcove and pushed the curtain back. Beyond was a small conservatory filled with choice orchids. They were a passion with him as with Frobisher. One of his chief reasons for coming to Gardner’s was because it was possible to fill the small conservatory with a selection of his favourites. The atmosphere was damp and oppressive, but the Shan seemed to revel in it. "That’s about the size of it," he said. "Frobisher found out that you were _épris_ of his lovely ward, and he had other views for her. The young lady has a will of her own, I understand." "If you could see your way," Harold murmured, "to leave Miss Lyne out of the discussion——" "My dear chap, I have not the slightest intention of erring against good taste. I like you, and out of all the men I come in contact with, you are the only honest man of the lot. Now I have stated why you were to be got out of the way I can proceed. Can’t you see that there is somebody else who is your mortal enemy besides Frobisher?" "I cannot call any one particularly to mind at present."