his hobby-horse, 'there is a
sample of the Rhine wine dated 1706 which caused such a sensation at the
Vienna Exhibition of 1873. There is also a singularly glorious Persian
wine from Shiraz, the like of which I have never seen elsewhere. Also
there is an unrivalled vintage of Romanee-Conti, greatest of all modern
Burgundies. If I remember right Prince Eugen invariably has a bottle
when he comes to stay here. It is not on the hotel wine list, of course,
and only a few customers know of it. We do not precisely hawk it about
the dining-room.'

'Indeed!' said Racksole. 'Let us go inside.'

They entered the stone apartment, rendered almost sacred by the
preciousness of its contents, and Racksole looked round with a strangely
intent and curious air. At the far side was a grating, through which
came a feeble light.

'What is that?' asked the millionaire sharply.

'That is merely a ventilation grating. Good ventilation is absolutely
essential.'

'Looks broken, doesn't it?' Racksole suggested and then, putting a
finger quickly on Babylon's shoulder, 'there's someone in the cellar.
Can't you hear breathing, down there, behind that bin?'

The two men stood tense and silent for a while, listening, under the
ray of the single electric light in the ceiling. Half the cellar was
involved in gloom. At length Racksole walked firmly down the central
passage-way between the bins and turned to the corner at the right.

'Come out, you villain!' he said in a low, well-nigh vicious tone, and
dragged up a cowering figure.

He had expected to find a man, but it was his own daughter, Nella
Racksole, upon whom he had laid angry hands.

Chapter Twenty-Three FURTHER EVENTS IN THE CELLAR

'WELL, Father,' Nella greeted her astounded parent. 'You should make
sure that you have got hold of the right person before you use all
that terrible muscular force of yours. I do believe you have broken my
shoulder bone.' She rubbed her shoulder with a comical expression of
pain, and then stood up before the two men. The skirt of her dark grey
dress was torn and dirty, and the usually trim Nella looked as though
she had been shot down a canvas fire-escape. Mechanically she smoothed
her frock, and gave a straightening touch to her hair.

'Good evening, Miss Racksole,' said Felix Babylon, bowing formally.
'This is an unexpected pleasure.' Felix 's drawing-room manners never
deserted him upon any occasion whatever.

'May I inquire what you are do