unlocked it and looked out. As he did so, he gave voice to a sharp, surprised exclamation, causing me to wonder who would approach the castle at this hour, midnight, on such a tempestuous night.

The midnight visitor was the last person in the world I had thought of seeing, a district messenger boy, bringing a telegram for Henry. One of Henry's peculiarities was never to accept a radiogram or telegram relayed to the castle by telephone from the telegraph office in the village; it had to be delivered in person, no matter at what hour.

One glance at the messenger, as Henry bade him come in out of the rain, in tones of warm welcome, and I, like Niki, gave a sharp though suppressed exclamation. Completely enveloped in a black rubber cloak, which reached to the top of his puttees, and wearing one of those ugly rubber hats, with its broad brim turned down and extending well over his face, so that only his mouth and chin were exposed to view, he looked almost uncanny.

Catching the bright gleam of the nickel handle-bars of a bicycle parked outside, when Niki opened the door, I figured that the messenger must have had a hard pull in the storm. He had had no difficulty in entering the premises, I knew, as all district messengers were admitted at the lodge-gate without questioning. Looking uncertain and awkward, he leaned against the wall, just inside the door, while Niki handed the message to Henry. He made no move to remove his hat; either he was too embarrassed, or he didn't know any better.

There was nothing unusual, of course, in a message being delivered at this hour of the night; the unusual thing was the manner in which Henry received this one. Over his cups he had grown loquacious, but I never would have believed him capable of the silly flow, and the amount of it, that proceeded from his lips on this occasion, a condition in which Olinski contributed his share of inanities.

"Now, my friend," he began, "I will give you one million dollars if you can tell me the contents of this telegram before I open it. What do you think is in it, now?"

"I could do very nicely with the one million dollars," Olinski replied, "but I regret to say, at the present moment, my eye-sight does not carry very far beyond the end of my nose."

"You've been drinking too much," said Henry, rather crossly.

"Ah! That realization, at this very moment, crossed my mind," Olinski admitted. "And my great fear is that you have been drinking too much, 

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