Ambrose Lavendale, Diplomat

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

'The history of this war,' he went on, 'will make mighty interesting reading, but there's another history, a history that will never be written, the history of the unrecorded things. Gee, that would make people gossip if they could get hold of only a few chapters of it! You know there's something strange afoot, Reggie. So do I, though we sit here lying to one another. I doubt whether the man in the street will ever know.'

Merrill selected another cigarette.

'I don't see where you come in here, Ambrose.'

'Neither do I,' the other agreed. 'Still, the truth comes to light in strange ways sometimes. Last night I had a cable from a friend in Petrograd, advising me to buy all Russian securities.'

'Well?'

'If there is to be any change for the better in the valuations of Russian stock,' Lavendale continued slowly, 'that is to say any immediate change, it can only mean one thing.'

Merrill struggled hard to preserve his expression of polite vacuity.

'There are very few people,' he murmured, 'who really understand Russia.'

Lavendale shrugged his shoulders.

'It isn't exactly my show, you know!'