"I would have given anything to have seen the look on your old chief's face when first he heard that we were going to declare war," he laughed. "How did he take it? You had a rough half-hour, I expect." "Of course," I smiled. "Things looked so serious." "Yes, so they did," he admitted, his face growing grave. "I quite expected that we should have to pack up our baggage and go back to St Petersburg. The fact is it's a puzzle to us why the Imperial declaration wasn't actually published. A hitch somewhere, I suppose." "Fortunately for us--eh?" I observed, lighting up calmly. He imported his own cigarettes, and they were always excellent. "Yes," he answered, adding after a moment's reflection, "but why have you come to me now that we are officially at daggers drawn?" "Only officially are we bad friends," I said. "Personally we shall be on good terms always, I hope, Paul. It was because I know I can count upon your assistance that I've come to ask you a favour." "Ask away, old chap," he said, deftly twisting his cigarette in his fingers, afterwards placing it between his lips. "I have a friend who wants to go to Russia, and desires a passport." "Well, he can get one at the Consul-General's office," my friend answered, without removing his cigarette. "I'll give you a note, if you like." "No," I said. "First, it is not a man who is going, but a woman; and, secondly, I want a passport vised by the Embassy in a name other than the real name of its bearer." "Oh," he exclaimed suspiciously, glancing straight at me. "Something shady, oh? Who's the woman?" "Well, she's hardly a woman yet," I answered. "A pretty girl who has lost her father and desires to return to her friends in St Petersburg." "What's her name?" "You know her," I said slowly. "I came to you on her behalf some time ago when a warrant was out for the arrest of her and her father. I--" "Of course, I quite remember," he answered quickly, interrupting me. "Anton Korolenko escaped with his daughter, that ingenious little nymph, Sonia, who came and pitched you a long, almost idyllic yarn, and you came here to intercede. I did as you requested and secured their freedom by endorsing the report of the agent of police told off to watch them by a statement that both father and daughter were dead. I then kept my promise by returning the warrant, but I tell you I narrowly escaped getting into a devil of a scrape about it." "But you can manage to give me a false passport for her, can't you?" I urged. "Where's her father? If he goes back their whole game will be given away." "Her father is dead," I answered. "Dead! Well, the grave is, I think, about the best place for such an enterprising old scoundrel, and as for his daughter, hang it, old chap, ten years in Nerchinsk wouldn't hurt her. What story has she been telling you this time, eh?" he asked.