"I daresay you are surprised that I should be willing to pay double your original price for Schloss Rothhoefen," he ventured, pausing in the corridor to light a cigarette. We were on our way to the top of the east wing. "Oh, no," I said calmly. "I am aware that treasure is buried here. As a matter of fact, I've tried to unearth it myself, but without success. I wish you better luck." "Thanks," said he laconically, after the first swift glance of inquiry. "It is doubtless a fairy tale, handed down by tradition. I take no stock in it. My principal object in acquiring Rothhoefen is to satisfy a certain vanity which besets me. I have it on excellent authority that my ex-father-in-law,--the man Titus, you know,--talks of buying the property and performing the stupendous, characteristic American feat of removing it, stone and timber, just as it is, to his estate north of New York City. No one but a vulgar, purse-proud American would think of doing such a thing." The news staggered me. Could there be anything in what he said? If it was true that Jasper Titus contemplated such a quixotic move, there could be but one compelling force behind the whim: sentiment. But not sentiment on the part of Jasper Titus. "I cannot believe that he considers doing such a thing," I said rather blankly. "You see, if any one should know, I am that one. He has not approached me, of that you may be sure." He did not appear to be interested. "My information is not authoritative, Mr. Smart," said he. "It came to me through my representatives who conferred with his lawyers a fortnight ago in regard to certain difficulties that had existed between us. From what they were able to gather, the idea has taken root in the old man's head. Now, I want to buy this place for no other reason than to tell him that he hasn't enough money in his possession to purchase it from me. D'you see? Vanity, you may call it, as I do, but it pleases me to coddle it." Very thoughtfully I strode along beside him. Would I be serving the Countess ill or well by selling the place to Tarnowsy? It was _her_ whim, of course, and it was a foolish one. "Suppose that he offered you twice what you are to pay me for the place," said I, struck by a sudden thought. He laughed easily. "You will not, it seems, acquit me of cupidity, Mr. Smart. I should not sell to him under any consideration. That is final. Take it or leave it." By this time we were in the rooms once occupied by the Countess. He glanced about the apartment carelessly. "Deserted, I observe," he remarked with a queer smile. My heart almost stood still. "Eh? What do you mean?" "If I am not mistaken, these are the rooms once occupied by your valet's wife. Am I right?" I steadied myself. "She has gone away," I said. "Couldn't stand the climate." "I see," said he, but he was still smiling. "How does your valet stand it?" "Nicely," said I, with a conscious blush. "I mean the separation, of course." "Certainly. He is used to it."