“’Irkutsk—­April fourteen—­Yesterday—­as—­usual—­But—­rumoured—­ defection—­from—­Sufi—­party—­Troops—­continue—­gathering—­ Felsenburgh—­addressed—­Buddhist—&
shy;crowd—­Attempt—­on—­Llama—­last—­ Friday—­work—­of—­Anarchists&m
dash;­Felsenburgh—­leaving—­for—­Moscow—­as —­arranged—­he....’  There—­that is absolutely all,” ended Oliver dispiritedly.  “It’s interrupted as usual.”

The girl began to swing a foot.

“I don’t understand in the least,” she said.  “Who is Felsenburgh, after all?”

“My dear child, that is what all the world is asking.  Nothing is known except that he was included in the American deputation at the last moment.  The Herald published his life last week; but it has been contradicted.  It is certain that he is quite a young man, and that he has been quite obscure until now.”

“Well, he is not obscure now,” observed the girl.

“I know; it seems as if he were running the whole thing.  One never hears a word of the others.  It’s lucky he’s on the right side.”

“And what do you think?”

Oliver turned vacant eyes again out of the window.

“I think it is touch and go,” he said.  “The only remarkable thing is that here hardly anybody seems to realise it.  It’s too big for the imagination, I suppose.  There is no doubt that the East has been preparing for a descent on Europe for these last five years.  They have only been checked by America; and this is one last attempt to stop them.  But why Felsenburgh should come to the front—–­” he broke off.  “He must be a good linguist, at any rate.  This is at least the fifth crowd he has addressed; perhaps he is just the American interpreter.  Christ!  I wonder who he is.”

“Has he any other name?”

“Julian, I believe.  One message said so.”

“How did this come through?”

Oliver shook his head.

“Private enterprise,” he said.  “The European agencies have stopped work.  Every telegraph station is guarded night and day.  There are lines of volors strung out on every frontier.  The Empire means to settle this business without us.”

“And if it goes wrong?”

“My dear Mabel—­if hell breaks loose—–­” he threw out his hands deprecatingly.

“And what is the Government doing?”

“Working night and day; so is the rest of Europe.  It’ll be Armageddon with a vengeance if it comes to war.”

“What chance do you see?”

“I see two chances,” said Oliver slowly:  “one, that they may be afraid of America, and may hold their hands from sheer fear; the other that they may be induced to hold their hands from charity; if only they can be made to understand that co-operation is the one hope of the world.  But those damned religions of theirs—–­”

The girl sighed, and looked out again on to the wide plain of house-roofs below the window.