“Why, it is the little Frenchman from the Trebassof villa,” commenced the falsetto voice of Gounsovski as he pushed a seat towards the young man and begged him to sit between him and Athanase Georgevitch, who was already busy with the hors-doeuvres.

“How do you do, monsieur?” said the beautiful, grave voice of Annouchka.

Rouletabille saluted.

“I see that I am in a country of acquaintances,” he said, without appearing disturbed.

He addressed a lively compliment to Annouchka, who threw him a kiss.

“Rouletabille!” cried la belle Onoto.  “Why, then, he is the little fellow who solved the mystery of the Yellow Room.”

“Himself.”

“What are you doing here?”

“He came to save the life of General Trebassof,” sniggered Gounsovski.  “He is certainly a brave little young man.”

“The police know everything,” said Rouletabille coldly.  And he asked for champagne, which he never drank.

The champagne commenced its work.  While Thaddeus and the officers told each other stories of Bakou or paid compliments to the women, Gounsovski, who was through with raillery, leaned toward Rouletabille and gave that young man fatherly counsel with great unction.

“You have undertaken, young man, a noble task and one all the more difficult because General Trebassof is condemned not only by his enemies but still more by the ignorance of Koupriane.  Understand me thoroughly:  Koupriane is my friend and a man whom I esteem very highly.  He is good, brave as a warrior, but I wouldn’t give a kopeck for his police.  He has mixed in our affairs lately by creating his own secret police, but I don’t wish to meddle with that.  It amuses us.  It’s the new style, anyway; everybody wants his secret police nowadays.  And yourself, young man, what, after all, are you doing here?  Reporting?  No.  Police work?  That is our business and your business.  I wish you good luck, but I don’t expect it.  Remember that if you need any help I will give it you willingly.  I love to be of service.  And I don’t wish any harm to befall you.”

“You are very kind, monsieur,” was all Rouletabille replied, and he called again for champagne.

Several times Gounsovski addressed remarks to Annouchka, who concerned herself with her meal and had little answer for him.

“Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?”

“No,” said Annouchka indifferently.

“The daughter of General Trebassof.”

“Yes, that is true, on my word,” cried Ivan Petrovitch.

“Yes, yes, Natacba was there,” joined in the other friends from the datcha des Iles.

“For me, I saw her weep,” said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka fixedly.

But Annouchka replied in an icy tone: 

“I do not know her.”

“She is unlucky in having a father...”  Prince Galitch commenced.

“Prince, no politics, or let me take my leave,” clucked Gounsovski.  “Your health, dear Annouchka.”