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The chauffeur got into his place and we were off at a smart pace into the darkness.

I looked back at old Kalkov and waved my hand to him, and as we whirled round the corner out of the square he drew himself up and gave me a military salute.

If I had any doubts before, they vanished the moment I was by the side of the girl. The adventure had taken just the turn I could have wished; and come what might, I was resolved to have a good time.

“That was Prince Kalkov, your Majesty?” she asked, speaking in Russian. I answered in French.

“Yes, my very faithful old friend and counsellor to whose planning I owe this—this excursion, shall we call it?”

“Your Majesty is——”

“Wait, please. This is a very unusual matter. I make one condition at the outset. My incognito must be strictly maintained by every one—by every one, if you please. I am not the Emperor, but as I told you yesterday, an American. My name is Harper C. Denver. I do not even speak the Russian language, although I can understand it, and I am travelling in Russia for pleasure.”