one's legs passed between him and the fire. Some one else was in the
room. With a light bound, he leaped forward, to find himself locked in
a pair of arms no less vigorous than his own.

And even in that lively moment he remembered that the sound in the
chimney went on!




CHAPTER X

THE GHOST OF AN OLD RÉGIME

It was a quick, silent struggle. The intruder wore no shoes. It would
be a test of endurance. Fitzgerald recalled some tricks he had learned
in Japan; but even as he stretched out his arm to perform one, the arm
was caught by the wrist, while a second hand passed under his elbow.

"Don't!" he gasped lowly. "I'll give in." His arm would have snapped
if he hadn't spoken.

A muttered oath in German. "Fitzgerald?" came the query, in a whisper.

"Yes. For God's sake, is this you, Breitmann?"

"Sh! Not so loud! What are you doing here?"

"And you?"