So far he got when she burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. It was so like all the caricatures of German character she had read or seen depicted. He looked at her, his face distorted with rage, and before she had realized what had happened he had raised his hand and struck her across the mouth. She staggered back, speechless. To her had happened the most incredible thing in the world, more incredible than her abduction, more incredible than all the villainies known or suspected, in this man. He stood there glowering at her, unrepentant, half-tempted, it seemed, to repeat the blow. He had struck a woman and was not overwhelmed by shame. All her views of men and things, all her conceptions of the codes which govern mankind in their dealings one with the other, crumbled away. If he had fallen on his knees and asked her pardon, if he had shown any contrition, any fear, any shame, she might have gone back to her old standards. "You swine cat!" he said in German, "Herr Gott, but I will punish you if you laugh at me!" She was staring at him in intense curiosity. Her lip was bleeding a little, the red mark of his fingers showed against her white face, but she seemed to have forgotten the pain or the shock of the actual blow and was wholly concerned in this new revelation. "A Hun," she said, but she seemed to be speaking to herself, "of course he's a Hun. They do that sort of thing, but I never believed it before." He took a step toward her, but she did not flinch, and he turned and walked quickly from the room, locking the door behind him. CHAPTER XII INTRODUCING PARSON HOMO When Beale left Krooman Mansions with his two companions he had only the haziest idea as to where he should begin his search. Perhaps the personal interest he had in his client, an interest revealed by the momentary panic into which her disappearance had thrown this usually collected young man, clouded his better judgment. A vague discomfort possessed him and he paused irresolutely at the corner of the street. There was a chance that she might still be concealed in the building, but a greater chance that if he followed one of the three plans which were rapidly forming in his mind he might save the girl from whatever danger threatened her. "You are perfectly sure you heard her voice?" "Certain," replied Beale shortly, "just as I am sure that I smelt the ether." "She may have been using it for some other purpose. Women put these drugs to all sorts of weird purposes, like cleaning gloves, and----" "That may be," interrupted Beale, "but I wasn't mistaken about her voice. I am not subject to illusions of that kind." He whistled. A man who had been lurking in the shadow of a building on the opposite side of the road crossed to him.