"What!" "If you have a travelling dress put it on. You can pack your luggage while I am talking to you. But dress as quickly as you can and then return and let me in." She said after a moment's silence: "I certainly shall not do any of those things until I know more about you and about your errand here." "I have a message for you from General Baron Kurt von Reiter." "That is possible," she said quietly. "What is the message?" "I was to say to you that the question which you were to decide on the first of November must be decided sooner." "I must have clearer proof that your message is genuine. I am sorry to distrust you but I have been annoyed lately." "Very well," he said. "Open the door a little more. Don't be afraid. I merely wish you to look at a ring which I wear. I want you to draw it from my finger and look at what is engraved inside." There was another silence. Then the door crack slowly widened. "Please extend your hand," she said. There was just enough of space for him to slip his hand between door and frame and he did so. There came a light, soft touch on his ring-finger. The ring slipped off. [Illustration: "There came a light, soft touch on his ring-finger"] When she spoke again her voice was altered: "I shall dress immediately," she said. "I shall not keep you waiting long. You will find the door open. Please come in when I have gone upstairs." "Thank you." He could hear her light, flying feet on the stairs; he waited a little longer, then opened the door. The hallway was dark, and he left the door open, then entered the room to the left which seemed to be a library, music-room and living-room combined. Books, piano, easy chairs and sofas loomed in the dim light of drawn curtains. An easel on which stood a water-colour drawing occupied the end of the room, and beside it was a table on which were porcelain dishes, tubes of colour and scattered badger brushes. It was evident that Miss Girard's talents were multiple, for he noticed also a violin and music stand near the piano, and on the violin score as well as on the score spread across the piano the same hand had written "Karen Girard." He stood by the table, mechanically picking up, one after another, the books lying there. Some of the books were printed in French, some in German, in Italian, in Danish, in Swedish, in English. Miss Girard's name was written in all of them. Miss Girard appeared to be accomplished. In the dim light Guild began to saunter around the room encountering various evidences of Miss Girard's taste and mode of living--one or two Braun photographs of Velasquez, Boucher, and Gainsborough on the walls--certainly a catholicism of taste entirely admirable;--one or two graceful bits of ancient Chinese art--blue and gold marvels of Pekin enamel; a mille-fleur tapestry panel, a bundle of golf clubs, a tennis bat, and a pair of spurs.