Here Zeneida burst into a merry laugh; while Galban inwardly cursed the Minister of Police, who by his clumsy zeal was in danger of spoiling the excellent plan he and Araktseieff had together made out.
Zeneida drawing three golden-shaped arrows from her hair, handed them to the sergeant of police.
"Go back to your chief and show him these symbols. From them he will recognize that Assyria's queen challenges the Prince of Sarmatia to combat."
The words were over the head of the agent of police, but he took the golden arrows.
"Then I shall be compelled to take your names. Yours, sir, is—"
"Caracalla," replied Galban, readily, "and this lady is my wife."
The police-agent duly entered in his book, "Herr Caracallus and Madame Caracalla"; then turned to a gentleman who had just entered, Prince Ghedimin. "And what is your name?"
"Rainbow. Here is my card."
It may be mentioned that hundred-ruble notes are called "rainbows" on account of their gay coloring. The name pleased the agent of police so well that he evinced no further curiosity. With obsequious bow he wished the company a pleasant evening, drank a bottle of champagne on his way out, pinched the cheek of a pretty ballet-girl, then hastened back to make his truthful report to the President of Police that all was quiet and dark at Palace Ilmarinen as in a church, and not a soul waking save the house porter.
But this was not the sole interruption that night. Scarce had the agent of police taken his departure before the organist and chaplain of the Protestant church appeared. The chaplain began a honeyed speech, probably to the effect that he hoped the lady of the house, as a good Protestant, would not give cause of offence to the faithful of the State religion by desecrating the first night of so holy a fast by entertaining so motley a crew of the worshippers of Baal.