CHAPTER XIII.
A KING UP HIS SLEEVE.
THE tall handsome girl was taking down the shutters from the shop-front at No. 19 in the Königstrasse. She went about her work languidly enough, but there was a tinge of dusky red on her cheeks, and her eyes were brightened by some suppressed excitement. Old Mother Rolf, leaning against the counter, was grumbling angrily because Bauer did not come. Now it was not likely that Bauer would come just yet, for he was still in the infirmary attached to the police-cells, where a couple of doctors were very busy setting him on his legs again. The old woman knew nothing of this, but only that he had gone the night before to reconnoitre; where he was to play the spy she did not know, on whom perhaps she guessed.
"You're sure he never came back?" she asked her daughter.
"He never came back that I saw," answered the girl. "And I was on the watch with my lamp here in the shop till it grew light."
"He's twelve hours gone now, and never
