Colonel Cointreau, resourceful as usual, hunted about the drawing room for a pin. As he expected, he found one eventually in the long blue damask window curtains. He stood trying to reattach the large golden epaulette to his shoulder when he was startled by a soft explosion. It came apparently from the great hall, a sudden popping sound followed by a faint whistling gasp. It was not unlike the fracture of an electric light bulb fallen from a height; but there are no electric lights in the Farniente Palace. He listened sharply. But nothing further happened, so he resumed his task, attempting to adjust the heavily fringed ornament at its proper angle. He had got it affixed, rather insecurely, when the sound came again, louder. This time there was discernible also a sort of strangled fizzing.
Hastily he crossed the room and flung open
