then
calling me, he asked for his coat and told me to ring up for the car,"
Folcker said. "He finished his cigarette and a glass of kuemmel, at the
same time scanning the evening newspaper. All the time he had been
eating, however, he seemed in a very angry mood. The interview with
the stranger at The Hague had somehow upset him, for once or twice he
muttered angrily to himself."

"Now tell me, Folcker," I asked seriously, "when he entered that
little hotel at The Hague he waited for his mysterious visitor--did he
not?"

"Yes, sir."

"The visitor arrived and you saw him. I understand that your master
came out and saw you during the interview?"

"Yes. About ten minutes after the stranger's arrival the Baron came
into the little hall of the hotel and told me that he would not
require me for an hour, or perhaps more. Apparently he did not wish
the car to stand outside the place for so long, lest it should be
recognized. So he sent me to a garage."

I hesitated.

"Then the stranger was left inside the hotel alone?"

"Yes, sir, for two or three minutes. Why?"

We were standing out in the well-furnished hall and I glanced around.

"Your master was in quite good health as he ate his dinner and smoked
his cigarette?" I remarked.

"Quite. He came out of the room and standing here I gave him his hat,
coat, gloves and stick. After he had put on his coat he drew on his
left-hand glove. Suddenly he tore it off again, and rubbing his
fingers together impatiently, said: 'I forgot, Folcker! I'm going to
the opera, give me some white gloves.' They were in the drawer
yonder," the valet said, pointing to a great old carved Flemish
cupboard. "So I got them out and handed them to him. He drew one of
them on and walked down to the gate to enter the car, when he suddenly
fell upon the pavement outside. You see, just yonder," and he pointed
through the open door.

"Why did he rub his fingers together, I wonder?" I remarked. "Was it a
habit of his?"

"Not at all, sir. He seemed to have a sudden pain in his fingers."

"A pain. Why?"

"I don't know, sir. It has only this moment occurred to me. He flung
off the glove and tossed it upon the table. It's still there--as you
see. Then he put on the white gloves and went down the steps and
collapsed."

"His head was affected?"

"Yes, he cried out twice that his head hurt him. The doctors attribute
his death to heart failure. But, personally, I doubt it, sir! I'm
certain that the