“Where? I don’t see him.” 

 “No, and he’ll take care you won’t. Unless I’m mistaken, directly he knew I saw him he took himself away; but he’s got his eye upon us all the same.” 

 I looked at Emily, and she at me. Mr. Paine saw that something was up. 

 “Who was that you’re speaking of? Someone who has been annoying you?” 

 “No—nothing. Only there was something a little queer took place last night.” 

 I sat silent, thinking of Isaac Rudd; as, I daresay, was Emily too. Putting two and two together, it was odd that he should be just there at that particular moment. Especially as, a little farther on, I saw, standing in the shadow of a doorway, a man in a long black overcoat, with his hat crushed over his eyes, who bore the most amazing resemblance to the foreigner who had given me the something in a scrap of paper. 

 Suddenly I jumped up from my seat. I was so startled that I could not help but give a little scream. They both stared at me. 

 “What is wrong?” asked Mr. Paine. 

 “Why, look at that!” 

 There, sitting, as it were, bolt upright on my knee was the something which had been in the scrap of paper. Mr. Paine eyed it. 

 “What is it?” 

 “That’s what I should like to know; also where it’s come from; it wasn’t there a moment back, and that I’ll swear.” 

 “May I look at it?” 

 “Certainly; and throw it out of the window too, for all I care.” 

 Mr. Paine took it up. He turned it over and over. 

 “It looks like one of the images, representatives of well known deities, which are used as household gods on some of the Pacific coasts. People hang them over their beds, or over the thresholds of their doors, or anywhere. Imitations are sold in some of the London shops. Perhaps Messrs. Cardew & Slaughter keep them in stock.” 

 “That I am sure they don’t. And, if they do, that’s not out of their stock. That was given to me last 

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