this to be done? I knew it was far from easy, almost impossible, to
make their casual acquaintance.

I began to cast the personality of the three men over in my mind.
There was Prince Kassimir Galitzin, at that time high in the favor of
the Czar. There were Delcasse of France and Sir Edward Grey of
England. All three were gyrating about the Riviera and the
Savoy--ostensibly it was for their health, possibly for other reasons.
In any case the health of these gentlemen seemed a matter of some
concern to the German emperor. Health trips of more than one
statesman in or about the same locality are looked upon with much
suspicion and promptly investigated; more so when there is any extra
political tension. At that time--it was in 1910--the air was tense,
Germany was in the dark, unable to distinguish friend or foe.

Sir Edward Grey's habits were unknown to me. With Delcasse's I was
somewhat familiar. Prince Galitzin--ah, yes! I knew him pretty well,
_bon vivaint_, extremely fond of a pretty face. Um! I began to see
light. Here is where the Countess might come in. By her photograph,
an extremely beautiful woman; but photographs often flatter and do not
give an indication as to personality. _Festina lente. I could see.

Five forty-five the next afternoon and I was installed at the Hotel
Metropole in Monte Carlo. After a refreshing bath, I had supper
served in my room, and sent for the hotel courier--this an old
globe-trotter trick. Hotel couriers or dragomen are walking
encylopædias. They are good linguists, observant and shrewd. They
are masters of the art of finding out things they should not know, and
past grand masters in keeping their mouths shut unless you know how to
open them. Not with palm oil. Oh, no, nothing so crude! You would