ming
to have descended from Kolnische."

"And how?" sneered the baron.

"Through James Kolnische and Wilhelmina his wife," returned Mr. Clinch
boldly. "They emigrated from Koln and Crefeld to Philadelphia, where
there is a quarter named Crefeld." Mr. Clinch felt himself shaky as to
his chronology, but wisely remembered that it was a chronology of the
future to his hearers, and they could not detect an anachronism. With
his eyes fixed upon those of the gentle Wilhelmina, Mr. Clinch now
proceeded to describe his return to his fatherland, but his astonishment
at finding the very face of the country changed, and a city standing
on those fields he had played in as a boy; and how he had wandered
hopelessly on, until he at last sat wearily down in a humble cottage
built upon the ruins of a lordly castle. "So utterly travel-worn and
weak had I become," said Mr. Clinch, with adroitly simulated pathos,
"that a single glass of wine offered me by the simple cottage maiden
affected me like a prolonged debauch."

A long-drawn snore was all that followed this affecting climax. The
baron was asleep; the retainers were also asleep. Only one pair of eyes
remained open,--arch, luminous, blue,--Wilhelmina's.

"There is a subterranean passage below us to Linn. Let us fly!" she
whispered.

"But why?"

"They always do it in the legends," she murmured modestly.

"But your father?"

"He sleeps. Do you not hear him?"

Certainly somebody was snoring. But, oddly enough, it seemed to be
Wilhelmina. Mr. Clinch suggested this to her.

"Fool, it is yourself!"

Mr. Clinch, struck with the idea, stopped to consider. She was right. It
certainly WAS himself.

With a struggle he awoke. The sun was shining. The maiden was looking at
him. But the castle--the castle was gone!

"You have slept well," said the maiden archly. "Everybody does after
dinner at Sammtstadt. Father has just awakened, and is coming."

Mr. Clinch stared at the maiden, at the terrace, at the sky, at the
distant chimneys of Sammtstadt, at the more distant Rhine, at the table
before him, and finally at the empty glass. The maiden smiled. "Tell
me," said Mr. Clinch, looking in her eyes, "is there a secret passage
underground between this place and the Castle of Linn?"

"An underground passage?"

"Ay--whence the daughter of the house fled with a stranger knight."

"They say there is," said the maiden, with a gentle blush.

"Can you show it to me?"

She hesitated. "P