“He will take a glass of port,” said the prince, turning to Wanda, and indicating the decanter from which, despite his gout, he had just had his after-dinner wine. Wanda poured out the wine and handed it to Kosmaroff, who took it with a glance and a quick smile of thanks, which seemed to indicate that he was almost one of the family. And, indeed, they were closely related, not only in the present generation, but in bygone days. For Kosmaroff represented a family long since deemed extinct. “I have come,” he said, “to tell you that all is safe. Also to bid you good-bye. As soon as I can get employment I shall go down to Thorn to stir them up there. They are lethargic at Thorn.” “Ah!” laughed the prince, moving his legs to a more comfortable position, “you young men! You think everybody is lethargic. Don't move too quickly. That is what I always preach.” “And we are ready enough to listen to your preaching,” answered Kosmaroff. “You will admit that I came here to-night in obedience to your opinion that too much secrecy is dangerous because it leads to misunderstandings. Plain speaking and clear understanding was the message you sent me--the text of your last sermon.” With his quick smile Kosmaroff touched the rim of the prince's wineglass, which stood at his elbow, and indicated by a gesture that he drank his health. “That was not my text--that was Wanda's,” answered the prince. “Ah!” said Kosmaroff, looking towards Wanda. “Is that so? Then I will take it. I believe in Wanda's views of life. She has a vast experience.” “I have been to Dresden and to London,” answered Wanda, “and a woman always sees much more than a man.” “Always?” asked Kosmaroff, with his one-sided smile. “Always.” But Kosmaroff had turned towards the prince in his quick, jerky way. “By-the-way,” he asked, “what is Cartoner doing in Warsaw?” “Cartoner--the Englishman who speaks so many languages? We met him in London,” answered the prince. “Who is he? Why should he not be here?” “I will tell you who he is,” answered Kosmaroff, with a sudden light in his eyes. “He is the man that the English send when they suspect that something is going on which they can turn to good account. He has a trick of finding things out--that man. Such is his reputation, at all events. Paul Deulin is another, and he is here. He is a friend of yours, by-the-way; but he is not dangerous, like Cartoner. There is an American here, too. His instructions are Warsaw and Petersburg. There is either something moving in Russia or else the powers suspect that something may move in Poland before long. These men are here to find out. They must find out nothing from us.” The prince shrugged his shoulders indifferently. He did not attach much importance to these foreigners.