The Harbison man grinned and then became serious.

"Why don't you tell me the whole thing?" he demanded. "You've
been in trouble all evening, and--you can trust me, you know,
because I am a stranger; because the minute this crazy quarantine
is raised I am off to the Argentine Republic," (perhaps he said
Chili) "and because I don't know anything at all about you. You
see, I have to believe what you tell me, having no personal
knowledge of any of you to go on. Now tell me--whom have you
hidden in the cellar, besides the policeman?"

There was no use trying to deceive him; he was looking straight
into my eyes. So I decided to make the best of a bad thing.
Anyhow, it was going to require strength to get Bella through the
coal hole with one arm and restrain the policeman with the other.

"Come," I said, making a sudden resolution, and led the way down
the stairs.

He said nothing when he saw Bella, for which I was grateful. She
was sitting at the table, with her arms in front of her, and her
head buried in them. And then I saw she was asleep. Her hat and
veil were laid beside her, and she had taken off her coat and
draped it around her. She had rummaged out a cold pheasant and
some salad, and had evidently had a little supper. Supper and
a nap, while I worried myself gray-headed about her!

"She--she came in unexpectedly--something about the butler," I
explained under my breath. "And--she doesn't want to stay. She is
on bad terms with--with some of the people upstairs. You can see