mself up for an interview with some stranger, and in walked
a foreigner wrapped in a long cloak, and looking exceedingly like a
stage brigand.

He bowed, the brigand bowed too, and said something rapid and
unintelligible in Italian. Then glanced at the door to see that it
was safely closed, he made a bound to the open window and shut it
noiselessly. Raeburn quietly reached down a loaded revolver which hung
about the mantel piece, and cocked it, whereupon the brigand fell into a
paroxysm of laughter, and exclaimed in German:

"Why, my good friend! Do you not know me?"

"Haeberlein!" exclaimed Raeburn, in utter amazement, submitting to a
German embrace.

"Eric himself and no other!" returned the brigand. "Draw your curtains
and lock your door and you shall see me in the flesh. I am half stifled
in this lordly wig."

"Wait," said Raeburn. "Be cautious."

He left him for a minute, and Haeberlein heard him giving orders that
no one else was to be admitted that evening. Then he came back, quietly
bolted the door, closed the shutters, and lighted the gas. In the
meantime his friend threw off his cloak, removed the wig of long, dark
hair, and the drooping mustache and shaggy eyebrows, revealing his
natural face and form. Raeburn grasped his hand once more.

"Now I feel that I've got you, Eric!" he exclaimed. "What lucky chance
has brought you so unexpectedly?"

"No lucky one!" said Haeberlein, with an expressive motion of the
shoulders. "But of that anon; let me look at you, old fellow why you're
as white as a miller! Call yourself six-and-forty! You might pass for my
grandfather!"

Raeburn, who had a large reserve fund of humor, caught up his friend's
black wig from the table and put it on above his own thick, white hair,
showing plainly enough that in face and spirits he was as young as
ever. It was seven years since they had met, and they fell to talk of
reminiscences, and in the happiness of their meeting put off the more
serious matters which must be discussed before long. It was a good half
hour before Haeberlein alluded to the occasion of his present visit.

"Bring actually in London, I couldn't resist looking in upon you," he
said, a cloud of care coming over his face. "I only hope it won't get
you into a scrape. I came over to try to avert this deplorable business
about poor Kellner too late, I fear. And the worst of it is, I must have
blundered somehow for my coming leaked out, and they are on the watch
f