Above the cedars to the eastward a ship rose like a planet, her aeroplanes in red glory against the deeps of heaven. She swept across the south, hovered for an instant, drooped her ethereal wings, and flashed in narrowing circles downward until she fell out of the afterglow and loomed vast in the lower shadows. With feathery lightness she poised on the lawn, her gauze propellers singing themselves to sleep with the whirr of humming-birds. Then from under the gloom of her shadow came a man--a gaunt old man in a grey military cloak--who climbed the steps of the terrace and crossed the gravel space until he came in front of the lighted windows. There the man stood looking down with austere disgust upon the sleeping Chancellor. His ship had risen into the afterglow before the visitor moved a chair and sat down, still intently studying Lord Ulster's face. Under that prolonged stare, the Chancellor stirred in his sleep, and muttering to himself, awakened, lifting his heavy eyes. In the deepening shadows he saw that silent motionless figure, tried to dispel the impression with a wave of his hand, then found himself broad awake, face to face with Nicholas IV. Emperor of Russia. At once the Chancellor rose to his feet, and made his royal guest welcome with many a courteous phrase. He offered apology that his servants were all at a church concert this Sunday evening, and that neither himself nor his son had been at hand to receive the Imperial yacht with proper honours. He offered hospitality, invited his Imperial Majesty to enter the house. His words disappeared into the air, slow cold eyes followed his every movement, and the Emperor waited in freezing silence. Motionless, chilled, shocked, dismayed, the Chancellor stayed his speech. "Your Grace will understand," said the Emperor, "that I do not come as a friend." Germany and France had been gathering armaments, relations were strained to the breaking point, war might be declared at any moment, the allies were only held from attack by the ominous silence of Russia. Then Ulster had won the Emperor to his side, and an alliance was now in treaty between the Russian and the British Empires which would make the threatened war impossible. It was in the moment of the Chancellor's triumph that Nicholas IV. came to his house an enemy. "For your own sake," said the Emperor, coldly, "you'd better see that we are not overheard." Ulster seized this chance of covering his confusion, entered the house, surveyed the empty study and returned, saying again that his household were all at the church. The Emperor had taken one of the garden chairs, his back to the windows, and thoughtfully looked out upon the garden, his long lean fingers tapping a cigarette. By a gesture he told the Chancellor to sit down. "There is," he began in his purring, sibilant English, "a young Indian prince now resident in England."