"You think so? But I had my plan. I descended from the omnibus at a door whereupon was a brass plate bearing the words, 'Musical and Dramatic Agent.'"
"Heavens!" I ejaculated, beginning to understand, and Stromboli proceeded—
"The door was open, and I walked in. I found myself in an antechamber, surrounded by men with blue chins, and young women with blue eyes and fair hair, who stared at me curiously. I took no more notice of them than if they had been waxwork models, but walked on to another door, leading to an inner room. A young man—a clerk of some kind—presumed to bar my progress. I swept him before me and so forced my passage into the presence of the 'Dramatic and Musical Agent.'"
"I presume," I said, "that the 'Dramatic and Musical Agent' was surprised to see you."
"Naturally. 'Who the dickens are you, sir?' was his brusque but kindly greeting. 'Who should I be but Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski?' I replied. 'What do you want here?' he asked inquisitively. 'I am here to do business with you to our mutual advantage,' I explained. And with that I sat down affably in his arm-chair and engaged him in a serious conversation."
"What!" I explained. "You don't mean to tell me that you are going on the music-halls in the character of a performing Revolutionist?"
Stromboli seemed hurt.
"It has been arranged," he said, "that I am to give a series of lectures on my experiences at certain Palaces of Varieties. The general title of the series is to be, 'Disturbances that I have Made.' It is not precisely what I contemplated in my youth; but it is a way, like another, of making provision for my age."
"Precisely," I said, seeing that it was useless to argue with him. "With which of your thrilling experiences are you meaning to begin?"
"With a certain further experience of a Central American republic," Stromboli answered.