under his own eyes; so I wrote a letter to a friend in England, stating the fact plainly that I had had an interview with General Kolfort, the Russian leader, in which the fact that I was a British subject had been discussed between us, and added a few words of assumed annoyance that this should have happened, as it might interfere with my plans in making a career in Bulgaria. I put in some other general matter such as might be written in a friendly letter, and finished with a request that my correspondent would send me two or three articles I had left in his care. This was all fable, of course; but I wrote it to make it more difficult for the General to suppress the letter. Then I added a postscript, with the usual sting in it.
"If you get a chance, you might drop a side hint to Edwardes, of the Foreign Office, that I am here, and known to be English."
I sealed the letter with careful clumsiness, so that the envelope could easily be opened without the seal being broken, marked it "Urgent. Strictly private," and then gave it to a waiter to post. If I was under the surveillance he had suggested, I felt convinced that nothing more was necessary to ensure its getting immediately into the General's hands. It would at least give him food for thought.
Then as to his second object. Why had he given me any time at all? A Russian party, strong and unscrupulous enough to plan the assassination of the reigning Prince himself—as they had done—would have thought nothing of keeping me, a mere Roumanian Count (as I told them I was when they had me on the previous evening), rushing me off incontinently to the frontier, and bidding me be off about my business under fear of a stray bullet should I attempt to
