“Yes, we have arrived. But this is just an anteroom. Now you must tell me how you would prefer to spend the evening.” “Spend the evening?” “Exactly. There are rooms devoted to the god of chance, which I think you will find amusing—and unusual. There is an entertainment, which we might call a play, although it differs from any stage production that you have seen in the West. There is a banquet, with viands and wines which I think you will find strikingly unusual, and there are—the gardens.” I stared at him. “Man, how can I tell?” I demanded. For so many entertainments meant a greatly decreased chance of finding Natalie or Margaret. “Won’t you be my guide? I am sure that anything which you recommend will be well worth seeing.” “Seeing?” laughed Ivanovitch. “We appeal to all the senses, my friend.” He looked at me amusedly. “But I think that the banquet is Roman to-night and I believe that a good deal of pains has been taken with it. If I might make a suggestion, I should say, go to the banquet first and then, if you are not too sleepy”—he broke off, laughing—“go to the entertainment or to the gardens, unless you are fond of gambling. You must be hungry by now, anyway.” “The banquet by all means then!” I laughed. “And afterwards——” “What you will,” Ivanovitch interrupted. “But let me make one little point clear to you before we part for the present. You will meet and talk with beautiful women, probably. It is possible that their costumes might lead you to jump to conclusions which would be entirely erroneous. They are young ladies and are to be treated as such.” I bowed to hide the joy in my eyes. Who could these beautiful young ladies be, if not the girls who had disappeared of late? And if they were so treated, perhaps no harm had come to Natalie and Margaret. I looked up to find his eyes fixed on me intently. “As to the gardens,” he went on, “that is another matter altogether. After the banquet you can go to the gardens and sport with the—nymphs—if you wish. And in the gardens, restrictions on the guests are—conspicuous by their absence. You see,” he added, in a drawl, “the young lady attendants here are—er—given garden duty, so to speak, when they do anything, or attempt to do anything, displeasing to the management. So—most of them behave.” Some saving sense told me that his words were in the nature of a taunt, intending to enrage me and make me disclose my hostility. So I turned away to hide my anger and glanced about the room appreciatively. “It all sounds very attractive,” I said.