The visitor stared anxiously at the closed door. He was a heavy-set man, dark in complexion, and with a stern yet expressive face. His features showed the marks of worry.
The servant returned.
“Follow me,” he said.
He led the way upstairs. They came to a front room on the second floor. The visitor was admitted, and the servant retired, closing the door behind him.
THE man called Berchik found himself in a most luxurious apartment. The decorations of the room were almost barbaric in their splendor.
A Russian wolfhound was reclining upon a magnificent Oriental rug. The huge dog arose and stretched itself; then it stalked across the room and rubbed its head against the visitor’s hand. Berchik smiled as he stroked the dog’s back.
Two velvet curtains parted at the left side of the room. A man entered.
He was a tall man, of courtly appearance. His hair was gray; his face was clean-shaven. His features were those of a stern, unyielding fighter; his entire appearance showed that he regarded himself as superior to other persons.
The visitor bowed as he observed the man enter.
“Your name is Berchik?”