Will you come with me to my apartment where we may be alone ?" The men, who somehow made St.George think of tan-coloured greyhounds with very gentle eyes, consulted each other, not with the suspicion of the vulgar but with the caution of the thorough-bred.
"Pardon," said one, "if we may be quite assured that this is Miss Holland's friend to whom we speak--" St.George hesitated.

The hall-boy listened with an air of polite concern, and there were curious over-shoulder glances from the passers-by.

Suddenly St.George's face lighted and he went swiftly through his pockets and produced a scrap of paper--the fragment that had lain that morning on the floor of the prince's deserted apartment, and that bore the arms of the King of Yaque.

It was the strangers' turn to regard him with amazement.

Immediately, to St.
George's utmost embarrassment, they both bowed very low and pronounced together: "Pardon, adon!" "My name is St.George," he assured them, "and let's get into a cab." They followed him without demur.
St.George leaned back on the cushions and looked at them--lean lithe little men with rapid eyes and supple bodies and great repose.