e reached up, and shook it. It was
loose. He wrenched it out, and came back into the light.

"See! Nothing less than a chisel could have cut the mortar that way.
Miss Killigrew is right." He went back, and with the aid of the tongs
poked into the cavity. The wall of bricks was four deep, yet the tongs
went through. This business had been done from the other side.

"Well!" exclaimed the admiral, for once at loss for a proper phrase.

"You see, father? I was right. Now, what can it mean? Who is digging
out the bricks, and for what purpose? And how, with the alarms all
over the house, to account for the footprints in the flour?"

"It is quite likely that something is hidden in the chimney, and some
one knows that it is worth hunting for. This chimney is the original,
I should judge." Fitzgerald addressed this observation to the admiral.

"Never been touched during my time or my father's. But we can soon
find out. I'll have a man up here. If there is anything in the
chimney that ought not to be there, he'll dig it out, and save our
midnight visitor any further trouble."

"Why not wait a little while?" Fitzgerald ventured. "With Breitmann
and me in the house, we might trap the man."

"A good scheme!"

"He comes from the outside, somewhere; from the cellar, probably. Let
us try the cellar." Breitmann urged this with a gesture of his hands.

"There'll be sport," said Fitzgerald.

The coffee was cold in the little cups when they returned to it. The
cellar, as far as any one could learn, was free from any signs of
recent invasion. It was puzzling.

"And the servants?" Breitmann intimated.

"They have been in the family for years." The admiral shook his head
convincedly. "I ask your pardon, my dear. My ears are not so keen as
might be. I'm an old blockhead to think that you were having an attack
of ghosts. But we'll solve the riddle shortly, and then we shan't have
any trouble with our alarm bells," with a significant glance at
Fitzgerald. "Well, Mr. Breitmann, suppose we take a look at the work?
Laura, you show Mr. Fitzgerald the gardens. The view from the terrace
is excellent."

Fine weather. The orchard was pink with apple blossoms, giving the far
end of the park a tint not unlike Sicilian almonds in bloom. And the
intermittent breeze, as it waned or strengthened, carried delicate
perfumes to and fro. Yon was the sea, with well-defined horizon, and
down below were the few smacks and