great pleasure," said
Leadbury, and at this juncture, Clarissa, remembering her
instructions, said:

"The collection of your former weapons, sir, has been placed in the
first room at the left at the head of the stairs. The paperhangers and
decorators have been busy." And then she proceeded to lead the way
into the hall and up the broad funereal staircase that led above.
Dimly burned the lights in the hall. Dimly burned a gas jet in the
room whose door stood open at the left.

"Oh, yes," said Leadbury, gaily, responding to a remark of Miss
Bording, as they entered the room and saw the uncertain shape of a
large chair vaguely looming in the gloom; "I secured the fauteuil of
Ab del Kader after we had stormed the last stronghold of that
unfortunate prince. But interesting as this relic is, I put no value
upon it in comparison with the weapons, for every bit of steel in the
collection has been used by me in my trade."

As he said these words, he turned on the gas at full head and the
light blazed forth to be shot back from an array of polished steel
festooned upon the wall, a glittering rosette, but not of sabres and
scimetars, yataghans, rapiers, broadswords, dirks and poniards,
pistols, fusils and rifles. No! _Razors and scissors!_ Before this
array sat a great red velvet barber's chair, and near them on the wall
was a board, bearing little brass hooks, upon each of which hung a
green ticket.

In the unexpected revelation that had followed the flare of light, all
eyes were turned upon William Leadbury, swaying back and forward with
one hand clinging to the big chair, as if ready to swoon. A sickly,
cringing grin played over his face, suddenly come all a-yellow, and
his long tongue was flickering over his pale lips. But all at once his
muscles sprang tense and a malignant anger tightened his quivering
features and turning upon Clarissa, he hissed:

"You did this. You exposed me, you exposed me," and he was about to
leap at the terrified girl, when a ringing voice cried, "Stop!" and
there was Asbury Fuller standing in the doorway with the broad red
cordon of a Commander of the Legion of Honor across his breast and a
glittering rapier in his hand. Clarissa could have fallen at his feet,
he looked so handsome and grand, and she could have scratched out the
eyes of Eulalia Bording, whose gaze betrayed an admiration equal to
her own. Asbury Fuller, yet not wearing quite his wonted appearance,
for the luxuriant locks of au