unnoticed, some reference to "twist nose," and racked her brains in an effort to recall who that personage was. That he knew her he very quickly showed.
"Sophia Kensky," he said, "we have sent for you to ask you why your father is in London."
"If you know my father," she replied, "you know also that I, his daughter, do not share his secrets."
The man at the head of the table nodded.
"I know him," he said grimly, "also I know you, Sophia. I have seen you often at the meetings of our society in Kieff."
Again she frowned, trying to recall his name and where she had seen him. It was not at any of the meetings of the secret society—of that she was sure. He seemed to read her thoughts, for he laughed—a deep, thunderous laugh which filled the underground room with sound.
"It is strange that you do not know me," he said, "and yet I have seen you a hundred times, and you have seen me."
A light dawned on her.
"Boolba, the buffet-schek of the Grand Duke!" she gasped.
He nodded, absurdly pleased at the recognition.
"I do not attend the meetings in Kieff, little sister, for reasons which you will understand. But
