“I wonder we haven’t had a telegram from the Chevalier, or, at any rate, from Hicks,” said Mansfield, jumping up to pour some more water into the teapot for Lady Caerleon. “They both promised to let us know how the transfer of power went off.” “It’s a curious thing,” said Lord Caerleon; “but I met Monckton just now, and he tells me that no telegrams have come from Jerusalem to-day or yesterday, and no letters to-day. They hear that there has been a heavy snowfall in the south, and the Jerusalem trains have not arrived at Jaffa, so the post may be interrupted; but it seems queer that the city should be altogether isolated.” “I hope poor old Goldberg hasn’t got snowed up on his journey,” laughed Usk. “Hicks has a pretty fair idea of making himself comfortable; but the Chevalier doesn’t know the ropes as he does. Besides, it must be soothing to be able to turn an honest penny out of one’s misfortunes by writing a column or two about them.” “Perhaps the Roumis have refused to budge, after all,” suggested Mr Judson. “They are quite capable of holding on in spite of their promises, and the provisional government have no means of making them turn out.” “That would be a deadlock, indeed,” said Lord Caerleon. “We must hope----” “Why, here’s the Chevalier himself!” cried Usk, and all eyes were turned to the doorway, where the financier stood like a man in a dream, travel-stained and bent, with disordered garments. “My dear Chevalier!” said Lord Caerleon, advancing and taking him by the arm. “Come and sit down; you are ill--frozen, perhaps.” “I am not ill, but sick at heart. Yerushalem, de holy city, de choy off de whole earth”--his voice rose into a cry of agony--“iss in de hends off Scythia. O God----” he broke into Hebrew, “the heathen are come into Thine inheritance.... Oh that Thou wouldst rend the heavens, that Thou wouldst come down, that the mountains might flow down at Thy presence!” “Cyril’s warning!” cried Lady Caerleon. “Yes,” said the Chevalier heavily, “he warned me, but I did not see. None off us saw. We are helpless widout him. O my broder, de cheriot off Israel and de horsemen dereof! All our labour iss in fain. I hef beggared myself for dis!” “But how did it happen?” urged Mr Judson. “How was it possible----” “Dey hed deir plens laid. Eferythink wass arranched beforehend. Dey knoo det widout de Count we hed no head to metch Prince Soudaroff’s. Efen de Armenians--de irreconcilables--hed been squared.” “But did you escape?” cried Lord Caerleon; “or were you warned in time?” “I heard de noose yesterday efenink, Mr Hicks and I were delayed in our chourney by de snow--we were fumink to think we hed missed de great ceremony. Den, ess we approached de City on horsebeck, we were met by Levinssohn, one off de profissional gofernment, who hed escaped, and pauced to warn me, lest de enemy should get command of de Goldberg millions by seizink me. He told us de story.” “Yes, yes, and what had happened?” cried everybody.