"Indeed; from whom, pray?"
"Pardon me, that is my business and his."
"Pardon me also, for asking the question. But if I can find direction to the street I asked you about, I can present you to him," said the stranger, who was a distinguished-looking man, about fifty years of age.
"You would greatly oblige me by doing so."
"Wait a moment; perhaps that dismounted cossack can direct me," saying which, he followed the soldier into the cafe.
There was a crowd in there, and Barnwell would have been puzzled to see whether the stranger actually spoke with the soldier; but after a minute or so he returned.
"I have learned it. Follow me," said he, turning from the room. Barnwell did as directed, and together they walked three or four squares, and then turned into a side street.
A short distance down it he found the number, and knocked upon the door in a curious sort of manner, and presently it was opened by an attendant.
"Show me Vola's chamber," said the man, in a low tone of voice, and the attendant conducted them to it.
"Remain here a moment, and I will bring him before you," said the stranger, pointing to a chair that stood in the plainly-furnished room.