Within twenty minutes the fellow lounged along on the opposite side of the road, just as I had expected.  He had changed his clothes, and presented such a different appearance that at first sight I failed to recognize him.  He knew that I had driven there, and intended to follow me if I came forth.  My position was one of extreme difficulty, for if I went down to the quay he would most certainly follow me.

Having watched his movements for ten minutes or so I descended to the big salle-a-manger and there ate my luncheon, chatting to the French waiter the while.  I sat purposely in an alcove, so as to be away from the other people lunching there, and in order that I might be able to talk with the waiter without being overheard.

Just as I had finished my meal, and he was handing me my bill, I bent towards him and asked—­

“Do you want to earn twenty roubles?”

“Well, m’sieur,” he answered, looking at me with some surprise.  “They would be acceptable.  I am a married man.”

“Well, I want to escape from this place without being observed.  There is a disagreeable little matter regarding a lady, and I fear a fracas with a man who is awaiting me outside in the Nevski.”  Then, seeing that he hesitated, I assured him that I had committed no crime, and that I should return for my baggage that evening.

“You could pass through the kitchen and out by the servants’ entrance,” he said, after a moment’s reflection.  “If m’sieur so desires, I will conduct him out.  The exit is in a back street which leads on to the Catherine Canal.”

“Excellent!” I said.  “Let us go.  Of course you will say nothing?”

“Not a word, m’sieur,” and he gathered up the notes plus twenty roubles with which I paid my bill, and taking my hat I followed him to the end of the salle-a-manger behind a high wooden screen, across the huge kitchen, and then through a long stone corridor at the end of which sat a gruff old doorkeeper.  My guide spoke a word to him, and then the door opened and I found myself in a narrow back slum with the canal beyond.

My first visit was to a clothier’s, where I purchased and put on a new light overcoat and then to a hatter’s for a hat of different shape to that I was wearing.  I carried the hat back to a quiet alley which I had noticed, and quickly exchanged the one I was wearing for it, leaving my old hat in a corner.  Then I entered a cafe in order to while away the hours until the vessel from Finland was due.

At four o’clock I was out upon the quay, straining my eyes seaward for any sign of smoke, but could see nothing.  The sun was sinking, and the broad expanse of water westward danced like liquid gold.  The light died out slowly, the cold gray of evening crept on.  A chill wind sprang up and swept the quay, causing me to shiver.  I asked of a dock laborer whether the steamer was usually late, whereupon he told me that it was often five or six hours behind time, depending upon the delay at Helsingfors.