he had sailed for Hull to meet his death in that adjacent room where the
doctors were now busied with his body.

Marshall Allerdyke, though he had no actual monetary connection with
them, had always possessed a fairly accurate knowledge of his cousin's
business affairs--James was the sort of man who talked freely to his
intimates about his doings. Therefore Allerdyke was able to make out from
the journal what James had done during his stay at St. Petersburg, in
Moscow, in Revel, and in Stockholm, in all of which places he had irons
of one sort or another in the fire. He recognized the names of various
firms upon which James had called--these names were as familiar to him as
those of the big manufacturing concerns in his own town. James had been
to see this man, this man had been to see James. He had dined with such
an one; such an one had dined with him. Ordinarily innocent entries, all
these; there was no subtle significance to be attached to any of them:
they were just the sort of entries which the busy commercial man, engaged
in operations of some magnitude, would make for his own convenience.

There was, in short, nothing in that tiny book--a mere,
waistcoat-pocket sort of affair--which Allerdyke was at a loss to
understand, or which excited any wonder or speculation in him: with one
exception. That exception was in three entries: brief, bald, mere
lines, all made during James's second stay--the fortnight period--in
St. Petersburg. They were:--

April 18: Met Princess.

April 20: Lunched with Princess.

April 23: Princess dined with me.