There he dismissed him, and strolled down Greek Street, till he came
to a place called Bayle's Court. He passed under the archway, and
found himself in a curious cul-de-sac, that was apparently occupied
by a French Laundry, as a perfect network of clothes-lines was
stretched across from house to house, and there was a flutter of
white linen in the morning air. He walked right to the end, and
knocked at a little green house. After some delay, during which
every window in the court became a blurred mass of peering faces,
the door was opened by a rather rough-looking foreigner, who asked
him in very bad English what his business was. Lord Arthur handed
him the paper Count Rouvaloff had given him. When the man saw it he
bowed, and invited Lord Arthur into a very shabby front parlour on
the ground floor, and in a few moments Herr Winckelkopf, as he was
called in England, bustled into the room, with a very wine-stained
napkin round his neck, and a fork in his left hand.

'Count Rouvaloff has given me an introduction to you,' said Lord
Arthur, bowing, 'and I am anxious to have a short interview with you
on a matter of business. My name is Smith, Mr. Robert Smith, and I
want you to supply me with an explosive clock.'

'Charmed to meet you, Lord Arthur,' said the genial little German,
laughing. 'Don't look so alarmed, it is my duty to know everybody,
and I remember seeing you one evening at Lady Windermere's. I hope
her ladyship is quite well. Do you mind sitting with me while I
finish my breakfast? There is an excellent pate, and my friends are
kind enough to say that my Rhine wine is better than any they get at
the German Embassy,' and before Lord Arthur had got over his
surprise at being recognised, he found himself seated in the back-