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 ye. I take it ye have a convenient room where we can sit down and discuss things at ease?"

"Yes," grunted the German. "But—"

"Then suppose we go there, and ye'll not be catching your death of cold standing here in your nighties."

With an inarticulate growl, von Wever wheeled about and pushed aside a portière. "I've no doubt you will some explanation make," he said surlily. "Enter, if you please."

"Oh, after yourself, sir!" protested O'Rourke with exaggerated courtesy. "And—light a lamp before ye sit down, captain, dear."

Again the mystified German obeyed, O'Rourke remaining on guard at the entrance, while the captain's slippered feet paddled around into the darkness of the apartment. A match was struck, and a hanging lamp of Moorish design ignited. O'Rourke removed his hand from the butt of his weapon, and entered.

The room was the reception room of the house, as was evident from its furnishings. A smell of stale tobacco smoke pervaded it, and on a little stand by a divan were bottles and glasses.

Von Wever sulkily threw himself on the divan, motioned O'Rourke to an armchair, and, with another wave of his hand, signified that the whiskey was at his unwelcome guest's disposal.

"Thank ye," said O'Rourke drily. "I'm not drinking this night."

Von Wever was; he poured himself a stiff dose and downed it, then looked expectantly at the Irishman. "Well?" he said.

"'Tis to refresh me memory that I'm knocking ye up at this early hour," O'Rourke began. "Ye'll pardon me, I'm sure, when I state me case."