The visit of His Royal Highness Ali Azim Mirza, nephew of the Shah, accompanied by the Grand Vizier, Hasan Kuli, is fresh in our memories. The mission of the Prince was to invest a distinguished personage with the insignia of the Lion and the Sun in order to mark the Persian monarch's appreciation of the Garter which had been recently conferred upon him. The Mission duly returned with its object accomplished. Outwardly everything happened as was anticipated, and there are but few who know how nearly we approached to a war with Russia as a consequence of the visit, while still fewer are aware that such a calamity was averted by a cadet member of the Burglars' Club.

In the unwritten annals of the Club the incident stands out prominently. It is well that it should be recorded before it is forgotten.

The special Mission was due to arrive in London on the 10th of the month. It was to leave on the 16th. Lord Denton had placed his town house at the disposal of the Prince and his retinue during their stay.

On the 4th, Mr. Birket Rivers, a cadet member of the Burglars' Club, received an intimation that his entrance fee could be paid on the 13th by the production of the insignia of the Order which the Prince was bringing with him.

On the evening of the 8th, John Parker, a footman in the employ of Lord Denton, called by request on Mr. Rivers at his rooms in the Albany.

"You wished to see me, sir?"

"Ah, Parker, how are you getting on?"

"Very well, thank you, sir."

"You are going to have great times, Parker. When does Lord Denton leave?"

"To-morrow, sir."

"Are all the servants staying behind?"

"Only about half of us, sir. The Persians bring their own cooks and men."

"Quite so. Are you remaining?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I want you to let me take your place."

Parker opened his eyes very wide. "Beg pardon, sir," he said, feeling sure he had misunderstood the last remark.

"I want to take your place as footman in Denton House while the Persians are there. If you will help me to do so, Parker, there's ten pounds for you."

Parker scratched his head. "I should like the ten pounds, sir; but I don't see how I'm to get it. They'd never mistake you for me, sir, though we are about the same build. Mr. Bradshaw would spot the difference at once."

"Who is Mr. Bradshaw?"

"The butler, sir. He's pretty well left in charge of the house."

"Listen, Parker. The Prince comes the day after to-morrow. At eleven o'clock in the morning of that day you've got to be taken ill. Tell Bradshaw you can't work, and you think it's something infectious. Tell him that your cousin, James Finny, who is only staying on with me till he hears of a place, would jump at the job. Send me word, and I will turn up at once."

"Mr. Bradshaw might know you, sir."

"I don't think so. I've never been at the house. Besides, I shall shave off my moustache. Anyway, Parker, I'll take care you lose nothing by it, even if I should be found out."

John Parker left a quarter of an hour later, ten pounds richer than he came. In his pocket he carried a letter which eventually reached Mr. Rivers by special messenger at noon on the 10th. It ran:

With his moustache shaved off, and attired in a painfully respectable ready-made suit, Rivers presented himself at Denton House at one o'clock. He found Mr. Bradshaw in a highly-wrought condition.

"So you're Parker's cousin? A pretty mess he's landed me in!"

"I hope he's not very bad, sir."

"I hope he is. I hope he'll die," said Mr. Bradshaw vengefully. "You've lived with Mr. Rivers?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can you announce visitors?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go to that door, and announce the Lord Mayor."

Rivers—or, rather, James Finny—flung open the door, and announced in stentorian accents, "His Worship the Lord Mayor of London."

"You hass!" shouted Mr. Bradshaw. "You only worship him when you're in the prisoners' box. I 'spect that's where you met him. Call him 'his Lordship' when he's a-wisitin'. Now again."

James obeyed.

"Bravo—that's better!" said another voice. It proceeded from a mite of a man who had approached noiselessly, and who now stood rubbing his hands approvingly. "But it's rather late for rehearsals, Mr. Bradshaw, isn't it?" he added.

"Parker's taken ill," said Mr. Bradshaw savagely. "He's sent this screw to take his place."

"So thoughtful of Parker," murmured the little man. "What's your name, and where do you come from?" addressing the candidate for office.

"James Finny, sir—from Mr. Birket Rivers."

"Mr. Birket Rivers," reflected the other. "Ah, to be sure—Mr. Birket Rivers, the young millionaire. Drives a team of spanking bays at the Four-in-Hand meets. AttachÉ at Constantinople, or something. Came into money and left the Service. Wishes he'd stopped in it, I believe. A very active young gentleman. Oh, yes, I've heard of your master—your late master, James Finny."

The little man was studying him intently all the time. Then he fixed his eyes on Rivers' hands. He lifted the right one, looked at it, and passed on.

There was a loud ring, and a footman entered with "Please, Mr. Bradshaw, there's the gentlemen come from the hembassy."

The butler bustled to the door. "Go up to Parker's room, and change into his things at once, and then come down to me in the 'all," he said to Rivers.

"Yes, sir," Rivers replied. "Beg pardon, Mr. Bradshaw, who was that small gentleman wot just left us?"

"That small gentleman," said Mr. Bradshaw, with swelling dignity, "is Mr. Marvell, from Scotland Yard; so you'd better be careful, Finny."

Prince Ali Azim, accompanied by the Vizier and a numerous suite, arrived that afternoon, and the whole household was thenceforth kept busy attending to the wants, numerous and peculiar, of the Persians. Rivers' chief duties were to attend to the hall door, and to help to wait at meals. He did his work to the satisfaction of Mr. Bradshaw, and never a day passed without Mr. Marvell, who was installed as the protecting angel of the establishment, staring fixedly at him, and then passing some word of commendation in a tone that brought the blood to his face.

"A shocking habit you have of blushing, James Finny," the little man would say as he toddled away.

And all the time the new footman was trying to find out where the Order of the Lion and the Sun was kept.

It was the 12th before he ascertained that it was in one of three despatch boxes kept in a bookcase in the library.

The Burglars' meeting took place on the 13th. He must purloin it before then—that very night, if possible.

At five o'clock the Vizier was taken ill.

"Some of Parker's leavin's, I'll be bound," said Mr. Bradshaw. "Same symtims. Looks all right, and talks despairin' of pains an' shivers. Won't have a doctor, neither. If the Wizzer pipes out, Finny, your preshus cousin'll be responsible."

At 8 p.m. the Prince and his suite, with the exception of the invalid Vizier, set out for the Alhambra and supper at the Carlton. Mr. Marvell, as usual, followed closely in their wake.

At nine o'clock James Finny was off duty. "Now or never," he thought. He watched his opportunity, and then, unperceived, entered the library, and there hid himself behind a curtain, intending to wait till the household was asleep, and then to open the despatch box from his bunch of skeleton keys. He had been there perhaps half an hour when the door opened, and, to his amazement, the Vizier entered. He was followed by a servant bringing coffee and cigarettes. There were cups for two.

The minutes passed slowly. The Vizier looked impatiently at the clock, then strode up to one of the windows, pulled back the heavy curtain, raised the blind, and looked out. Rivers' pulses quickened. What if the Vizier were to come to his window?

"Ha!" exclaimed the Persian, replacing the curtain, and resuming his seat.

The door opened, and a bemuffled object made its appearance. The Vizier rose. The servant withdrew, and the object emerged from its wraps. Rivers knew the man at once. He had met him at Constantinople. It was Count Moranoff.

The Vizier bowed.

The newcomer responded, and then gave a sigh of relief.

"Peste! but it was warm, Vizier," he said. "I am delighted at last to have the honour and the supreme pleasure of meeting you."

"Your Excellency," replied the Vizier, "the fame of Count Moranoff has for long inspired me with an intense wish that we should meet. Allah has at last granted the desire of my life. Will your Excellency seat yourself? Here is coffee alla Turca."

The count drew up his chair, and took the proffered cup. As he lit a cigarette, his eyes travelled appreciatively over the portraits of a dozen Dentons, famous in the service of their country. "It is fitting we should meet here," he said, "surrounded by these illustrious gentlemen, who look on, but cannot move. It is prophetic."

"It is Kismet," said the Vizier gravely.

"Kismet, assisted by two statesmen," returned the Count. "Exactly. But I mustn't lose time, Vizier, as our moments are precious." He put his hand into his breast pocket, and produced a document. "Here is the draft of our understanding, arranged so far as is possible with three thousand versts between us. Now we must discuss the final details. I have indicated my suggestions, and if they meet with your approval it will be possible for us to sign before you leave London."

The Persian watched the smoke rings float upward. "There is no haste," he said. "'Fruit ripens slowly under grey skies,' as our poet sings."

"Quite so—quite so," said the Russian, conscious of an error. "This year—the next will do. Our treasury has many drains upon it. We are not anxious to add to the number."

The Vizier smoked imperturbably. "The skies are grey here," he said at length, "but this London holds some wonderful men. One I met yesterday—an American. He is young. His hair is still flaxen. Yet he spoke of money as though it grew on rose trees. Half a million roubles are as nothing to him. He gave that sum for an Italian picture—an old, shabby-looking thing such as my master would not place in his anterooms. He owns oil mines, railways, banks. Allah! what does that flaxen-haired youth not own? My heart ached at the number of his possessions."

"These Americans talk," replied the Count. "Half they say is false, half exaggeration."

"Sometimes, no doubt," said the Vizier, "but not always. I know this man is rich. He is one of the new kings of the earth. We have already had a transaction together," and he sighed contentedly.

"There are kings and kings," replied the Russian. "There are also emperors. Your Excellency is now in negotiation with one who controls the destinies of countless millions—men and roubles. When last I saw his Majesty he said, 'Tell his Excellency the Grand Vizier that I would his wisdom could be added to that of my counsellors. When the wishes of my heart respecting the new treaty are consummated he will honour me by accepting half a million roubles.'"

The Persian gazed reflectively into space. "Your master is great," he said, "and he is generous. His rewards make glad the hearts of poets. He is the joy of the poor. Would that I were a poet or poor. So should my voice praise him also."

The Russian's eye gleamed, but he continued suavely:

"So said my royal master, 'Half a million roubles shall be his when the treaty is signed; five hundred thousand more when the Russian flag floats in the Persian Gulf.'"

The Persian leaned back resignedly.

"Great is the power of your master," he said. "As Russia is bigger than America, so does his power exceed that of the flaxen-haired gentleman I met yesterday. The Americans are numbered by tens, your master's subjects by hundreds of millions. Besides, it is always more agreeable to deal with a first-class diplomatist. Let me look at the draft."

Count Moranoff handed over the document. The Vizier read it slowly. The terms were fairly comprehensive. Behind his curtain Rivers breathed hard at their audacity, and his blood tingled at the thought that it rested with him to checkmate this daring move. The statesmen discoursed frankly, and there was no disguise of the object in view. India was eventually to be attacked by Russia, who was prepared to pay for facilities granted. The north-eastern province of Persia was a necessary factor of the scheme, and a railway was to be commenced at once from Astrabad to Meshed. But the most striking part of the plan was the acquisition by Russia of a port in the Persian Gulf. The Isle of Kishm was to be ceded to her. The only discussion between the two statesmen was with regard to the Island of Ashurada in the Caspian. The Vizier demanded its evacuation by Russia in partial payment for Kishm, but more particularly as a sop to the Persian people. After much demur this was finally agreed to by Moranoff, in addition to the annuity of two million roubles granted to the Shah.

The Vizier folded up the document.

"My secretary shall transcribe this to-morrow," he said, "and we can sign after our return from Windsor. Strange, is it not," he soliloquised, "that our former negotiations came to a head when the English Mission brought the Garter, and our new one is to be consummated while we are in the act of returning the compliment? These English are fated to be hoodwinked."

"When men such as you and I get together, my dear Vizier——" began the Russian sententiously. Then he stopped short, for the door had suddenly opened.

The Persian turned angrily, and then rose to his feet as a tall, richly-dressed man entered. It was the Prince Ali Azim.

"Vizier," said the Prince abruptly, "whom have you here? Your physician?"

The Vizier's face had assumed a bland smile, and instinctively he endeavoured to cover the treaty. But the Prince saw the movement.

"Why hide the prescription, Vizier?" he said.

The Russian's face grew livid, but the Vizier regained his usual composure.

"Your Royal Highness," he said, "permit me to present his Excellency Count Moranoff."

"Ten thousand pardons, Count," said the Prince, slightly returning the Count's profound inclination. "You will, perhaps, understand my mistake when I tell you that the Vizier is far from well. He has, no doubt, concealed the fact from you, but he was too ill to accompany me this evening to the hall of music. Hence my surprise at finding him here. I fear that his extraordinary zeal for affairs has led him prematurely from his bed. I am sure that you would not wish him to trespass unduly on his strength."

"Your Royal Highness's surmise is correct," said Moranoff. "It would, indeed, be an international calamity were the Vizier to break down. I hope I have not hastened that end." He again bowed profoundly to the Prince, refused the Vizier's offer of assistance with his wraps, and then, with a cold adieu to him, left the room.

"Now, Hasan Kuli," thundered the Prince when they were alone, "what intrigue is this?"

"Your Royal Highness's suspicions are uncalled for. Moranoff and I are old friends by correspondence. We had never met personally, and he naturally seized this opportunity."

"I did not know he was in England," said the Prince. "The Russian Ambassador incidentally referred to him to-day as being in Petersburg. I left you in bed, full of toothache and indigestion. I return unexpectedly, and find you deliberating with a Russian who is supposed to be five hundred farsakhs away. Give me that paper."

The Vizier reluctantly produced it, and the Prince read it through.

"Ah," he said, as he refolded it. "I see you are making a cat's-paw of me again. My mission here is to do away with any ill-effects consequent on our treaty with Russia. You will remember that when we were fooling the English Mission in Teheran I knew nothing of the treaty just concluded with Russia. My uncle and you delighted to keep me in the dark; yet all the time it was I who did the work. Was it his Majesty the Shah who played at billiards and cards with the English? Was it you who fought them at lawn tennis. Bah! I laugh at the thought. But I played at all. I lost my money at cards and billiards, and I suffered defeat at lawn tennis till the perspiration rolled down me, and my legs gave way. And you smoked and laughed, and got all the profit. I, who worked, got none. Now I have come over land and sea with the Order of the Lion and the Sun. Again I do the work—again I know nothing. I find you intriguing behind my back. You treat me as a child; but you forget that some day I may be Shah. You play with fire, Vizier."

"Your Royal Highness, I beg you to believe that I have acted for what I thought was the benefit of our country."

"And your own pocket," added the Prince. "How much plunder do you get out of this?"

The Vizier held up his hands in horror. "Your Royal Highness," he said, "is nothing ever done disinterestedly—from pure patriotism?"

"Not by Hasan Kuli," sneered the Prince. "Please save yourself useless declamation. You may as well know my terms at once. The price of my acquiescence in this matter is one million roubles."

The Vizier gasped.

"One million roubles!" he exclaimed. "Does money grow?"

"So far as I know, it does not," replied the Prince acidly. "But you may as well spare yourself unnecessary questions. These are my terms. Arrange with Moranoff to-morrow, or take it from your own profit—I care not which; but unless a portion of the money is forthcoming before we leave this cursed land I will——"

"You will betray us?"

"I do not explain my intentions to Viziers," replied the young man haughtily. "You understand me, I hope. Here is your treaty." He tossed the document on the table and left.

The Vizier threw himself on a sofa, and groaned aloud. He lay there long—so long that Rivers, behind the curtain, was stiff and weary. And there was the Vizier, now apparently dozing at intervals—perhaps going to make a night of it.

Suddenly he rose, took the draft of the treaty, went to the despatch boxes, and placed it in one of them. His body intervened between Rivers' view of them, but the watcher followed his movements as best he could. Then the Vizier turned to the door, and clicked out the light as he passed through.

Rivers stretched himself, but he did not venture to stir from behind the curtain for some time. At length he stepped out, turned on his portable electric light, crossed the room, and stood before the despatch boxes.

There were three, all exactly alike. One held the insignia of the Lion and the Sun. That was—yes, that was the bottom one. The treaty was in the middle one. The top one was unimportant. Rivers lifted out the middle one, and essayed to open it with his keys, but in vain. Then he tried the bottom one—that containing the Persian Order—but with no better success. The box would have to be forced open elsewhere. Yet he dare not carry it across the hall. Other means had to be found for getting it out of the room, and the way had occurred to him as he stood behind the curtain.

One box he might pass safely through this instrumentality, but only one. Two would court defeat. Which box was he to take—the one that held the Order of the Lion and the Sun, the object of all his scheming, or the other, in which lay the treaty?

Rivers' mind had taken its resolve at the instant he had seen the draft placed therein. Since Moranoff had appeared, he had lost all immediate interest in the Burglars' Club. Whether he became a member or not was of little moment, but it was a matter of national importance that the Foreign Secretary should see the draft of the treaty. The Earl of Ancoats was hard to convince of anyone's dishonesty. His own honour was so untarnished that he refused to believe less of others. He had declined to take hints about the former treaty between Russia and Persia, and now, with the Shah's Mission at his door, he would probably refuse to believe that this was but another blind, covering a further and bolder intrigue. Lord Ancoats must see the treaty.

Rivers took the middle box across to the window, then drew up the blind and waited. The red-coated sentry passed. Could he manage it before the soldier was round again?

Ah! here was his chance.

He opened the window gently. "Hi!" he called out to the passing hansom. The man pulled up, got down, and came to the window.

"I want you to take this box straight to Lord Ancoats. He lives in Eaton Square. Tell him Mr. Birket Rivers sent it, and he must open it at once. I will see him in the morning about it. Here's a sovereign. If Lord Ancoats gets it within an hour, I'll give you another sovereign to-morrow. Here you are. Cut along. Drive like blazes."

As the man mounted his seat, the sentry came round the corner. Rivers cautiously closed the window, and drew the blind. He then pulled a chair behind the curtain, and went to sleep on it till four o'clock, when he made his way to his own room.

First thing in the morning he sent a message to John Parker, who turned up in good health at ten o'clock, and claimed his post back.

Half an hour later Rivers left, assured of Mr. Bradshaw's offer of the next vacancy in the household. He drove straight to the Albany, and then to Eaton Square. The Earl was at the Foreign Office. Within the hour his lordship received him.

"Well, Mr. Rivers," said Lord Ancoats, producing the despatch box from a safe. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It explains itself, my lord."

"Indeed," said the statesman drily. "What do you think it contains?"

"The draft of a new treaty between Russia and Persia."

"Open it."

Rivers did so, and, instead of the draft, there on a purple velvet cushion was the glittering Order of the Lion and the Sun!

Rivers was stupefied.

"Was there nothing else?" he asked in bewilderment.

"No, sir; and perhaps you will now explain how you came into possession of this, and why you sent it to me. It is surely the property of the Persian Mission."

Lord Ancoats' demeanour was not reassuring, but Rivers plunged boldly into the matter.

"Last night, at Denton House, Count Moranoff visited the Persian Vizier," he commenced.

"How do you know that?"

"I saw him. I was present at the interview—unknown, of course. He brought with him the draft of a treaty supplementing the last one. It had chiefly reference to the acquisition of a Russian port in the Persian Gulf."

"Ah!" said Lord Ancoats, "that's a bold move. Go on, please."

"The Vizier placed the draft in one of three despatch boxes like this. I thought this was the one, and I sent it here so that your lordship could read the treaty for yourself. I deeply regret that I made a mistake in the box, but I can give the gist of the treaty from memory."

"Please do so now."

Rivers' memory was good, and the words of the treaty had burnt themselves on his brain. He recited the terms without hesitation. The minister heard him in silence, making notes.

"Thank you, Rivers," he said at the end. "You will please let me have that in writing in time for to-morrow's Cabinet." Then he got up and paced the room. "It is an unfortunate situation. I think we shall be able to meet the political side of it, but the investiture takes place at Windsor to-morrow, and this discovery is, to say the least, embarrassing. However, we have to thank you for being forewarned. You evidently anticipated this move."

"I'm afraid not, sir. It was as much luck as anything else on my part."

"But you were at Denton House?"

"I was there on other business," said Rivers frankly.

Lord Ancoats looked grave. "Well, Mr. Rivers," he said, "I will not inquire too closely what that other business was. You have rendered a service to the State which will not be forgotten. Now, what about this?" pointing to the box.

"I will see that the Vizier gets it."

"At once?"

Rivers hesitated. Only then did he remember he now had in his possession what he wanted. He could pay his entrance fee.

"I will see that it is at Denton House by the morning," he said.

Lord Ancoats watched him intently.

"Does the Burglars' Club meet to-night?" he said quietly.

"I—I beg your pardon," stammered Rivers.

Lord Ancoats laid a kindly hand on his shoulder. "I was only told of that institution within the hour," he said, "and till a moment ago I didn't believe the information. Take my advice, Rivers, and leave it. Its existence, you see, is known to some of the outside world. As a friend I warn you that you will be watched to-night. Don't spoil your career. Why did you leave the Service? Oh, I remember; but you're not satisfied with merely killing time, are you? Will you come back to us? The First Secretaryship at Vienna is vacant. Would you take it?"

Rivers' face beamed. "I'd jump at it, my lord."

"Then be ready to start in a week. Never mind thanks. I am still your debtor. Now about this box? You might be unable to restore it. We must adopt other means."

Lord Ancoats opened the door of an adjoining room with, "Come forward, please." And the little detective whom Rivers had last seen at Denton House that very morning entered briskly.

"I believe you have met before?" said Lord Ancoats.

Rivers was too astonished to reply.

"Yes, I have met James Finny—I beg pardon—Mr. Birket Rivers," said the detective drily.

"Mr. Rivers has explained the mystery very satisfactorily, Marvell," said Lord Ancoats. "The box should be restored without delay. Will you do this, please?"

Mr. Marvell tried to look pleased, but signally failed in the attempt.

"Certainly, my lord," he replied.

There was a knock at the door, and a clerk appeared with a card in his hand.

"I must leave you now," said the Minister. "Rivers, next week, remember. I am much obliged for your assistance, Mr. Marvell."

With this the Secretary for Foreign Affairs left the room.

The detective took up the box.

"How on earth did you come into this matter, Mr. Marvell?" asked Rivers.

"Very simply, sir. When Lord Ancoats got the box he telephoned to Scotland Yard, and I was sent for at once. As a matter of fact, I opened the box for his lordship. You're sure you wouldn't like to restore it yourself? The Vizier is ill in bed, and it won't be wanted till to-morrow."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Marvell," Rivers laughed; "but I'm sure it's safer in your hands."

Mr. Marvell nodded grimly. "Sooner or later, sir. Sooner or later," he said, as he walked to the door; "but don't try to be a footman next time."

With these enigmatical remarks the interview terminated.

On the following day the investiture of the Lion and the Sun took place at Windsor. After the ceremony Prince Ali Azim and the Vizier had a private interview with the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. It was noted at the time that the Persians emerged looking singularly subdued.

That evening, in reply to a friendly question addressed by the Leader of the Opposition, Lord Ancoats took the opportunity to assure the House that the paramount influence of England in the Persian Gulf would be maintained at any cost, and a month later the Union Jack floated by the side of the Arab Sultan's flag on the castle towers of Muscat.

This was the answer given to the Russian intrigue. That it was so effective and complete was owing to the action of Mr. Birket Rivers, sometime a cadet member of the Burglars' Club.