t you were acquainted. Inform me."

All the time he was peering about the room suspiciously, and:

"I inform you that we are not!" I said. "But if we were, I cannot
conceive that our acquaintance would concern you in any way."

"You are rude, sir!" he cried, and bent towards me so that I could see
the fierce hawk face set in a vicious scowl.

"I should be sorry to think so," I said indifferently; for the
Eurasian's behavior transcended the merely annoying and was that of a
lunatic. "I would not willingly provoke a sick man, and the tone and
manner of your address forcibly suggest to me that your temperature is
not normal."

A moment he stood bending towards me, his pose that of one about to
spring, then:

"Ah," he exclaimed, "yes, you are right, Mr. Addison. I live much
alone and I fear my manner grows brusk. Overlook it. She has gone,
then?"

"If you refer to a lady who called upon me half an hour ago--yes, she
is gone."

He drew himself upright again and stood there, gigantic in the little
room--a great, gaunt figure.

"Ah! And she was not my niece?"

"I lack the pleasure of your niece's acquaintance, Dr. Greefe."

"Yes. You said so. Good day, Mr. Addison."

He turned, lowered his head, and walked out of the room. When I, in
turn, emerged into the passage, I saw him striding out of the inn.
Martin was standing by the door of the bar-parlor looking very
confused; and as I joined him, intent upon a chat, I observed that the
shabby-looking stranger had departed.

"Hullo, Martin!" I exclaimed. "I thought I saw a customer here."

"When you came in there was. He went off with Cassim and Hawkins. They
was goin' to show him the road to Manton."

"Cassim?"

"Aye."

Martin growled and walked behind the bar-counter.

"You have some curious residents in this neighborhood."

"Too curious by half."

"Cassim, for instance, is not an English name."

Martin indulged in that rumbling sound which was his only form of
laughter.

"English!" he said. "He's as black as your hat!"

My hat chanced to be gray, but I followed the idea nevertheless, and:

"What!" I exclaimed, "a negro?"

"A blackamoor. That's all I know or care; and dumb!"

"Dumb! and a friend of Hawkins?"

"God knows. Things ain't right."

"Do you know if--a lady--resides with Dr. Greefe?"

"Maybe--maybe not. There _is_ tales told."

Substantially this was all I learned from mine host; but, having
lighted my pipe, I sat down on the bench