CHAPTER VI.
On our return to home, I found Fritz Keller smoking his pipe in the walled garden at the back of the house.
In those days, it may not be amiss to remark that merchants of the old-fashioned sort still lived over their counting-houses in the city.
The late Mr.Wagner's place of business included two spacious houses standing together, with internal means of communication.

One of these buildings was devoted to the offices and warehouses.

The other (having the garden at the back) was the private residence.
Fritz advanced to meet me, and stopped, with a sudden change in his manner.

"Something has happened," he said--"I see it in your face! Has the madman anything to do with it ?" "Yes.

Shall I tell you what has happened, Fritz ?" "Not for the world.