ppeared, the spectacles,
the lines in the face, the make-up of diabolical cleverness. With his
back to the wall and his fingers playing with something in his pocket,
Peter, Baron de Grost smiled upon his host.

"Since you insist upon knowing--the Baron de Grost, at your service!" he
announced.

Andrea Korust was, for the moment, speechless. One of the women
shrieked. The real Mr. von Tassen looked around him helplessly.

"Will someone be good enough to enlighten me as to the meaning of this?"
he begged. "Is it a roast? If so, I only want to catch on. Let me get to
the joke, if there is one. If not, I should like a few words of
explanation from you, sir," he added, addressing Peter.

"Presently," the latter replied. "In the meantime, let me persuade you
that I am not the only impostor here."

He seized a glass of water and dashed it in the face of Mr. van Jool.
There was a moment's scuffle, and no more of Mr. van Jool. What emerged
was a good deal like the shy Maurice Korust, who accompanied his brother
at the music-hall, but whose distaste for these gatherings had been
Andrea's continual lament. The Baron de Grost stepped back once more
against the wall. His host was certainly looking dangerous. Mademoiselle
Celaire was leaning forward, staring through the gloom with distended
eyes. Around the table every head was craned towards the centre of the
disturbance. It was Peter again who spoke.

"Let me suggest, Andrea Korust," he said, "that you send your
guests--those who are not immediately interested in this affair--into
the next room. I will offer Mr. von Tassen then the explanation to which
he is entitled."

Andrea Korust staggered to his feet. The man's nerve had failed. He was
shaking all over. He pointed to the music-room.

"If you would be so good, ladies and gentlemen!" he begged. "We will
follow you immediately."

They went, with obvious reluctance. All their eyes seemed focused upon
Peter. He bore their scrutiny with calm cheerfulness. For a moment he
had feared Korust, but that moment had passed. A servant, obeying his
master's gesture, pulled back the curtains after the departing crowd.
The four men were alone.

"Mr. von Tassen," Peter said easily, "you are a man who loves
adventures. To-night you experience a new sort of one. Over in your
great country such methods as these are laughed at as the cheap device
of sensation-mongers. Nevertheless, they exist. To-night is a proof that
they exist."

"