the light struck it; the books were bound in uniform
levant; the paintings were valuable; the bric-a-brac in irreproachable
taste. An inlaid ivory humidor was filled with coronas at exactly the
right degree of moisture. He removed the ground-glass stopper from an
etched decanter and sniffed of the contents. The aroma brought a smile
to his face, and, reflecting that the owner had robbed him, he took time
to pour out a drink and to light a fragrant cigar. All gentlemanly
housebreakers did the like, he reflected. Then he yielded to a whimsical
notion and fumbled in his pocket, thinking to leave the price of his
refreshments on the tray.

Midway in this purpose he paused. The breath hung in his throat, the
hair at the back of his neck seemed to rise. He had heard no one enter
the house, there had been no faintest stir since Madelon had left, he
detected no sound whatever, and yet he was positive that eyes were
boring into his back--that he was no longer alone. It was ridiculous,
and yet--A gentle cough sounded behind him!

With a swift gesture he settled his mask back in place and, whirling
around, beheld the most evil-appearing human being he had ever seen. The
man was little and stooped and undersized, all but his head, which was
unusually large. His face was fleshless and covered with a tight skin of
unusual pallor. He was bowing at Van Dam, but his smile was mocking and
his eyes glittered malignantly.

"Good day, Monsieur Black Wolf," said the stranger, harshly. "Making
yourself at home with my wines, as usual, eh?"

Van Dam felt the cold sweat leap out upon his body; he cursed the
deliberation that had betrayed him. With an assumption of indifference
he mumbled something and waved his cigar carelessly.

"How often must I tell you to come here only at night?" snarled the old
man. "Already the police are suspicious. Fortunately, it is carnival
day--I dare say no one suspected you in that disguise."

The speaker deposited his hat upon the table with a sour glance; then,
when his caller said nothing, he snapped:

"Well, well? What is it?"

Van Dam was at a loss for words; he was panic-stricken; but swift upon
his consternation came a reckless determination to take advantage of the
old gentleman's first mistake and to try to brazen the matter through.
There was nothing to be gained by explanation; no one would believe his
story. He spoke out boldly.

"The Wolf is hurt, and the Spider, I think, has his neck very