"I can assure you, gentlemen," he observed, "that amongst the many agreeable experiences that have lightened His Majesty's temporary exile there is none that he will look back on with more pleasure than his association with the Cosmopolitan Club. It is His Majesty's earnest hope, and may I add mine also, that in the happy and I trust not far distant days when our at present afflicted country has succeeded in ridding herself of traitors and oppressors we shall have the opportunity of returning some portion of that hospitality which has been so generously lavished on us in England. I can only add that there will never be any visitors to Livadia more welcome to us than our friends of the Cosmopolitan Club." A heartfelt outburst of applause greeted these sentiments--the idea of being the personal guests of a reigning sovereign distinctly appealing to the members present. "I hope he means it," whispered "Doggy" Donaldson in Tony's ear. "I'd like to see a bit of bull fightin', and they tell me the Livadian gals--" He smacked his lips thoughtfully as though in anticipation of what might be accomplished under the ægis of a royal patron. Having created this favourable impression the Marquis da Freitas looked at his watch and announced that he must be going. Tony, who had promised to lunch at Brooklands before the trial, also rose to take his departure, and together they passed out of the room and down the corridor. As they reached the hall, the swing door that led out into the street was suddenly pushed open and a man in a frock coat and top hat strode into the Club. He was a remarkable-looking gentleman--not unlike an elderly and fashionably dressed edition of Don Quixote. A dyed imperial and carefully corseted figure gave him at first sight the appearance of being younger than he really was, but his age could not have been far short of sixty. The most striking thing about him, however, was his obvious agitation. His face was worried and haggard, and his hands were switching nervously like those of a man suffering from some uncontrollable mental excitement. He came straight across the hall towards the porter's box, and then catching sight of Da Freitas turned towards him with an involuntary interjection of relief. "Oh, you _are_ here," he exclaimed. "Thank God I----" He paused abruptly as he suddenly perceived Tony in the background, and at the same instant the Marquis stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. "My dear fellow," he said in that smooth, masterful voice of his, "how good of you to look me up! Come along in here and have a chat." On the right of the hall was a small room specially reserved for the entertainment of visitors, and before the stranger could have uttered another syllable--even if he had wished to, the Marquis had drawn him across the threshold and closed the door behind them.