ditto," declares Philander, nor are his words without meaning, for the
natives scowl dreadfully.

"Lady Ruth, I owe you thanks; but, while we walk to the hotel, tell me
how you came to know she was masquerading in that style."

"It is easily told, sir. A mere accident put me in possession of the
facts, and, thank Heaven, I am able to build two and two together. You
were frank enough, Doctor Craig, to give me certain particulars
concerning that creature's plotting, and that confidence has now borne
fruit.

"Listen, then. I was in the hotel, in my room. Some freak of fortune
placed her in the apartment opposite. Knowing what presumably brought
her to Algiers, the desire to have revenge upon you, I entertained a
feeling of almost contempt for a woman who could so forget her sex and
seek a man who loved her not. If it were I whom you jilted, Doctor
Chicago, I would freeze you with scorn."

"Jove! I don't doubt it, Lady Ruth, but please Heaven you will never
have the chance," he says, in a half-serious, half-joking way.

"To return to my story, then," she continues, blushing under the ardent
look that has accompanied his words, "the queer part of it lies in the
fact that a transom over my door was partly open. There was a black
paper back of the glass, which gave it the properties of a mirror.

"Over her door was a similar contrivance, and as I sat there in the
darkness of my room, pondering over what has happened, my attention was
attracted by a flash of light, and, looking up, I saw the interior of