"Perhaps it's the angle of vision again. I can see that we shall never agree. Seriously, I thought that if you got out that way, you might find the other exit for me. I am sorry if my laughter annoyed you." "Not at all, not at all. But wouldn't it be wise to save a little laughter to make merry with when we get out?" I stepped out of the bin and relieved her of the candle; and we went on. "You did look funny," she said. "Please don't!" I begged. Soon we came to a bin of cabbages. I peered in philosophically. "I might find a better head in there than mine," I suggested. "Now you are trying to be sarcastic," said the girl. We went on. "Wait a moment!" she cried. "Here's a bin of nice apples." Apples! Well, my word, she was a cool one! I picked up one, polished it on my sleeve, and gave it to her. "I'm hungry," she said apologetically. "And plucky, too," I supplemented admiringly. "Most women would be in a weeping state by this time." "Perhaps I am waiting till it is all over." "You had better take off your mask." In fact I felt positive that the sight of her exquisite face would act like a tonic upon my nerves. "I am doing very well with it on. I can at least keep my face clean." She raised the curtain and took a liberal bite of the apple--so nonchalantly that I was forced to smile. "Here's a box," said I; "let's sit down while we eat. We are safe enough. If any one had heard the racket in the coal-bin, the cellar would have been full of police by this time." And there we sat, calmly munching the apples, for all the world as if the iron hand of the law wasn't within a thousand miles of us. It was all very amusing. [Illustration: And there we sat, calmly munching the apples.] "Are--_are_ you the man they are hunting for?" she asked abruptly. "I never stole anything more terrible than green apples--and ripe ones"--with a nod toward the apple-bin. "Pardon me! I feel very guilty in asking you such a question. You haven't told me your name." "Haven't I? My name is Richard Comstalk. My friends call me Dickey." "Dickey," she murmured. "It's a nice name." "Won't you have another apple?" I asked impulsively. "My appetite is appeased, thank you." An idea came to me. "Hamilton said there were three tens of hearts. That meant that only one was out of order. Where did you get your card?" "That I shall tell you--later." "But are you really an impostor?" "I should not be in this cellar else." "You are very mystifying." "For the present I prefer to remain so." We tossed aside the apple-cores, rose, and went on. It was the longest cellar _I_ ever saw. There seemed absolutely no end to it. The wine-cellar was walled apart from the main cellar, and had the semblance of a huge cistern with a door opening into it. As we passed it, the vague perfume of the grape drifted out to us. "Let's have a bottle," I began. "Mr. Comstalk!" "By absent-treatment!" I hastened to add.