Then he exclaimed: "Let us explode a mine!" And at once the
conversation was interrupted, as if a powerful and new curiosity
had taken hold of every one present.

A mine, that was his invention, his way of destroying, his favorite
amusement.

When he hurriedly left his chateau, Comte Fernand d'Armoy d'Uville,
the legitimate owner, had had no time to take with him nor hide
away anything except the silver-plate, which he had stowed away in
a hole made in a wall. Now as he was immensely wealthy and lived
in great luxury, his large salon, the door of which communicated
with the dining-room, presented the appearance of a Picture Gallery
before the precipitate flight of the master.

Priceless paintings and aquarelles were hanging on the walls, while
on the tables, the etageres and the elegant cabinets, thousands of
bric a brac and bibelots, statuettes, Dresden and Chinese vases,
old ivories and Venice pottery peopled the large room with their
precious and odd multitude.

Hardly any were left by this time. Not that they had been stolen;
the Major, Graf Farlsberg, would not have permitted nor tolerated
it; but Mademoiselle Fifi once in a while exploded a mine; and on
such occasions all the officers enjoyed themselves thoroughly for
five minutes.

The little Markgraf went to the salon to fetch what he needed; he
brought in a tiny and graceful Chinese tea-pot of the Rose family,