up the paper, and now sat back in her brown dress in a very graceful and
stately attitude. She seemed to listen with a deliberate kind of
patience; but her eyes flickered with interest.

"'Irkutsk--April fourteen--Yesterday--as--usual--But--rumoured--
defection--from--Sufi--party--Troops--continue--gathering--
Felsenburgh--addressed--Buddhist--crowd--Attempt--on--Llama--last--
Friday--work--of--Anarchists--Felsenburgh--leaving--for--Moscow--as
--arranged--he....' There--that is absolutely all," ended Oliver
dispiritedly. "It's interrupted as usual."

The girl began to swing a foot.

"I don't understand in the least," she said. "Who is Felsenburgh, after
all?"

"My dear child, that is what all the world is asking. Nothing is known
except that he was included in the American deputation at the last
moment. The _Herald_ published his life last week; but it has been
contradicted. It is certain that he is quite a young man, and that he
has been quite obscure until now."

"Well, he is not obscure now," observed the girl.

"I know; it seems as if he were running the whole thing. One never hears
a word of the others. It's lucky he's on the right side."

"And what do you think?"

Oliver turned vacant eyes again out of the window.