im to be seated. The young man in search of
an adventure selected the far end of the hall seat and dandled his hat.
An English butler was a good beginning. Perhaps three minutes passed,
then the door to the library opened and a young woman came out.
Fitzgerald stood up.

Yes, it was she.

"So you have come?" There was welcome neither in her tone nor face,
nor was there the suggestion of any other sentiment.

"Yes. I am not sure that I gave you my name, Miss Killigrew." He was
secretly confused over this enigmatical reception.

She nodded. She had been certain that, did he come at all, he would
come in the knowledge of who she was.

"I am John Fitzgerald," he said.

She thought for a space. "Are you the Mr. Fitzgerald who wrote the
long article recently on the piracy in the Chinese Seas?"

"Yes," full of wonder.

Interest began to stir her face. "It turns out, then, rather better
than I expected. I can see that you are puzzled. I picked you out of
many yesterday, on impulse, because you had the sang-froid necessary to
carry out your jest to the end."

"I am glad that I am not here under false colors. What I did yesterday
was, as you say, a jest. But, on the other hand, are you not playing
me one in kind? I have much curiosity."

"I shall proceed to allay it, somewhat. This will be no jest. Did you
come armed?"

"Oh, indeed, no!" smiling.

She rather liked that. "I was wondering if you did not believe this to
be some silly intrigue."

"I gave thought to but two things: that you were jesting, or that you
were in need of a gentleman as well as a man of courage. Tell me, what
is the danger, and why do you ask me if I am armed?" It occurred to
him that her own charm and beauty might be the greatest danger he could
possibly face. More and more grew the certainty that he had seen her
somewhere in the past.

"Ah, if I only knew what the danger was. But that it exists I am
positive. Within the past two weeks, on odd nights, there have been
strange noises here and there about the house, especially in the
chimney. My father, being slightly deaf, believes that these sounds
are wholly imaginative on my part. This is the first spring in years
we have resided here. It is really our summer home. I am not more
than normally timorous. Some one we do not know enters the house at
will. How or why I can't unravel. Nothing has ever disappeared,
either money, jewels, or silver, though I have laid