The Chevalier and Cyril were _personæ gratissimæ_ at Court that day, and the latter took advantage of the fact to accomplish another piece of business connected with the Palestine scheme which was destined to astonish the Princess of Dardania when she heard of it. Meanwhile, the Chevalier presented himself as an ambassador of authority and peace at a hastily convened meeting of the representatives of the gas company. The members of the committee were already alarmed by the success of their bold step, and he plunged them into a state of abject terror by hinting at an intention on the part of the government to confiscate the works and carry them on for the public benefit. When they had been reduced to a sufficiently pitiable condition, he raised them suddenly to the seventh heaven by disclosing the arrangement which had been made, and sent them home happy in the prospect of saving something from the wreck. Their defection cut the ground from under the feet of Dr Texelius, who was the next person visited by the financier, and whose only regret hitherto had been that he dared not venture into the streets to observe the working of his revenge. His short-lived satisfaction was ended by the peremptory order to quit Vindobona, and he almost wished that he had not indulged in his trip to the city when he found himself listening to the upbraidings of the Chevalier, who charged him roundly with doing his utmost to ruin the cause of Israel. The crestfallen philosopher was making his way on foot to the station the next morning, shadowed at a distance by two police officers in plain clothes, when a carriage containing two men drove past him. Although Dr Texelius had prudently kept his name concealed, for fear of the attentions of the populace, the mere fact that he was a Jew had made it impossible for him to procure a cab to convey him to the railway, and his luggage was being carried by a hanger-on of the police. But if the inhabitants of Vindobona were unconscious of the identity of their illustrious guest, the second secretary of the Scythian Embassy, who was one of the occupants of the carriage, was more fortunate. “Look there!” he said to his companion, to whom he had been recounting with great spirit the humours of the preceding day, “that is the redoubtable Texelius himself. I used to see him continually when I was in South Germany.” “Would it be possible to express one’s sympathy with the eminent philosopher?” “Scarcely, Prince--in public, at least. Look at those two fellows behind. They would have a fine story to tell if they saw you speak to him.” “You are right; they must not see it. Yet it would be a thousand pities if I could not speak to him. Volodia, my dear boy, do you think we could drive back to the station for a moment? I have unfortunately forgotten to inquire about my train.” “Of course--as many moments as you like.” Prince Soudaroff’s godson knew something of his methods of working. “Am I to do anything?”