ay nothing of a
beautiful young woman with a leaning toward adventure! But the most
surprising turn was yet to come.

In the office of Swan's hotel the landlord sat snoozing peacefully
behind the desk. There was only one customer. He was a gray-haired,
ruddy-visaged old salt in white duck--at this time of year!--and a blue
sack-coat dotted with shining brass buttons, the whole five-foot-four
topped by a gold-braided officer's cap. He was drinking what is
jocularly called a "schooner" of beer, and finishing this he lurched
from the room with a rolling, hiccoughing gait, due entirely to a
wooden peg which extended from his right knee down to a highly polished
brass ferrule.

Fitzgerald awakened the landlord and gave him the admiral's note.

"You will be sure and give this to the gentleman in the morning?"

"Certainly, sir. Mr. Karl Breitmann," reading the superscription
aloud. "Yes, sir; first thing in the morning."

CHAPTER VI

SOME EXPLANATIONS

Karl Breitmann! Fitzgerald pulled off a shoe, and carefully deposited
it on the floor beside his chair. Private secretary to Rear Admiral
Killigrew, retired; Karl Breitmann! He drew off the second shoe, and
placed it, with military preciseness, close to the first. Absently, he
rose, with the intention of putting the pair in the hall, but
remembered before he got as far as the door that it was not customary
in America to put one's shoes outside in the halls. Ultimately, they
would have been stolen or have remained there till the trump of doom.

Could there be two Breitmanns by the name of Karl? Here and there,
across the world, he had heard of Breitmann, but never had he seen him
since that meeting in Paris. And, simply because he had proved to be
an enthusiastic student of Napoleon, like himself, he had taken the man
to dinner. But that was nothing. Under the same circumstances he
would have done the same thing again. There had been something
fascinating about the fellow, either his voice or his manner. And
there could be no doubting that he had been at ebb tide; the shiny
coat, the white, but ragged linen, the cracked patent leathers.

A baron, and to reach the humble grade of private secretary to an
eccentric millionaire--for the admiral, with all his kindliness and
common sense, was eccentric--this was a fall. Where were his
newspapers? There was a dignity to foreign work, even though in Europe
the pay is small. There was trouble going on