me if I am likely to get a cab at this time of night?" I
asked as lightly as I could. I wanted to hear his voice.

But he returned no answer, merely gazing at me as before, without a
movement.

"Strange!" I said, half to myself. "The fellow must be deaf, or mad,
or a foreigner."

The man smiled slightly, his lips drooping to a sneer. I retreated,
and as I stepped back on the curb my foot touched some small object. I
looked down, and in the dim light, for the dawn was already heralded,
I saw the glitter of jewels. I stooped and picked the thing up. It was
the same little dagger which but a few hours before I had seen Rosa
present with so much formality to Sir Cyril Smart. But there was this
difference--the tiny blade was covered with blood!

CHAPTER VI

ALRESCA'S FATE

The house was large, and its beautiful facade fronted a narrow canal.
To say that the spot was picturesque is to say little, for the whole
of Bruges is picturesque. This corner of the Quai des Augustins was
distinguished even in Bruges. The aspect of the mansion, with its wide
entrance and broad courtyard, on which the inner windows looked down
in regular array, was simple and dignified in the highest degree. The
architecture was an entirely admirable specimen of Flemish domestic
work of the best period, and the internal decoration and the furniture
matched to a nicety the exterior. It was in that grave and silent
abode, with Alresca, that I first acquired a taste for bric-a-brac.
Ah! the Dutch marquetry, the French cabinetry, the Belgian brassware,
the curious panellings, the oak-frames, the faience, the silver
candlesticks, the Amsterdam toys in silver, the Antwerp incunables,
and the famous tenth-century illuminated manuscript in half-uncials!
Such trifles abounded, and in that antique atmosphere they had the
quality of exquisite fitness.

And on the greenish waters of the canal floated several gigantic
swans, with insatiable and endless appetites. We used to feed them
from the dining-room windows, which overhung the canal.

I was glad to be out of London, and as the days passed my gladness
increased. I had not been pleased with myself in London. As the weeks
followed each other, I had been compelled to admit to myself that the
case of Alresca held mysteries for me, even medical mysteries. During
the first day or two I had thought that I understood it, and I had
despised the sayings of Rosetta Rosa in the carriage, and the
misgivings