dering if the parade now advancing down the avenue of limes presaged another coup d'état. In the days of the Grand Duke gatherings of the rabble never approached nearer than the tall iron grille on the Pannonia Platz. The music sounded louder and louder, green and white flags fluttered above the throng. He looked anxiously at the cheerful envoy from Geneva, who strolled in from the salon, smiling genially. Romsteck could not account for the presence of this unexplained visitor, but he recognized the manners of one accustomed to command.
"Romsteck," said Cointreau, "this is a jocund moment."
"Jocund, sir? It looks like another revolution."
"A great proletarian celebration. The innocent high spirits for which Illyria was famous in the old days. Do you dance?"
"Dance?" ejaculated the major domo, horrified at such flippancy. "Not in public, sir; far from it, sir."
"But you shall," said Cointreau firmly.
