Pushing aside a heavy curtain, or _portiere_, that stretched across the doorway, the professor found himself in a large and lofty room, ceiled and wainscoted in oak, the walls hung with oil pictures so completely darkened and obscured with smoke and grime that it was impossible to distinguish what they were meant to depict. The stone floor was carpeted with skins, and a long, massive oak dining-table ran the length of the room, which was lighted during the day by three heavily curtained windows, and now by a solitary lamp. At the far end of the room stood one of the enormous porcelain stoves, which are such a feature of Russian interiors, balanced at the other end by an immense sideboard. The table was undraped, save at the far end, where sat, with his back to the glowing stove, a burly, thick-set man, attired in an undress military uniform. He appeared to be about forty years of age; he wore his hair cropped short, and his face was partially hidden by a heavy, unkempt beard and moustache. He had evidently just dined, for the draped extremity of the table was littered with the remains of a repast, he was smoking an immense pipe, while a tumbler of steaming vodki stood close to his hand upon the table. This individual was Count Vasilovich; and he was alone. He made no movement to rise at von Schalckenberg's entrance, but stared intently at his visitor, twisting the card in his hand in a nervous, impatient way. CHAPTER SEVEN. THE PROFESSOR BRINGS IN A PRISONER. "I have met you before, I think, Herr Professor," Vasilovich at length remarked. "And your card says that you have important business with me. What can I do for you?" "You can do a great deal for me, Count," answered von Schalckenberg, composedly. "But first of all," he continued, "I have a little thing here that I wish to show you; you are a connoisseur in such things, and it will interest you." So saying, the professor slipped his hand into his pocket, and produced a pistol, made apparently of polished silver, but really of aethereum. He held it by the barrel and offered it to the Count, remarking-- "There, Count, that is a simple enough weapon, to all appearance, is it not? Kindly examine it, and see if you can discover anything remarkable about it." A sudden look of terrified anxiety leapt into Vasilovich's eyes as the professor produced the handsome little weapon; but the placid manner of the latter as he tendered the pistol for examination seemed to reassure him, and grasping the butt, he looked at it intently. "Is the pistol an invention of yours which you wish the Russian Government to adopt?" he demanded, as he turned the weapon about in his hand, eyeing it curiously. "That is as it may be," answered von Schalckenberg. "At present, knowing you to be, perhaps, as good a judge as any man in Russia of such tools, I merely wish to obtain your unbiassed opinion of its merits."