He was still in bed next day. Dr. King came to see him; he had his breakfast, which the good woman who rented the lodgings brought him, and then lay back, thinking. The spring day fluttered in at the window; a man who had early greens to sell chanted their quality and price in the street; a knife-grinder's bell tinkled steadily along; the voices of some children arose gleefully from a garden. There was a knock on the door, and Captain Weir came in. He shook Anthony's hand, and sat coldly down by the bed. "Sparhawk visited us at the counting-room this morning," said he, "and we were astonished by what he had to tell. What does the doctor say?" "That I shall be fit and out to-morrow," said Anthony. "That is excellent. The rogues," said Captain Weir, "to attack you in the open street, and carry you aboard ship!" His green, stone-like eyes searched Anthony. "She was a Frenchman, I understand." "She flew the French flag," said Anthony. Captain Weir shook his head. "I understand," said he. There was a moment's silence; his eyes still searched the young man, and then he spoke again. "It was quite fortunate that Sparhawk walked home with you yesterday. He says you went quite weak." "More so than he thought," said the young man. "You have very pleasant quarters here." Captain Weir looked about, approvingly. "Quite snug for a bachelor; your pipes and tobacco, your wine-flask and brandy-bottle near at hand, your books on a rack where they may be had in a moment." His eyes, like those of Mr. Sparhawk, rested upon the bulky ledgers; and he smiled oddly. "That is the last of them, I suppose," said he. And, as Anthony nodded, the captain went on: "All the others have gone back to your uncle." "No," said Anthony; "those of interest are inside there." Captain Weir laughed; but his eyes narrowed as he said: "If Sparhawk had seen those, he'd have marveled at your industry." "He saw them," said Anthony. "We had some conversation about them." "Trust an old gossip like him for that," said the captain, the narrowed eyes cold and green, and more like stone than ever. "Nevertheless, he's a useful little man, and with quite a place in the community." The two talked for some time of Anthony's misadventure; then Captain Weir arose to go. "We shall expect you to-morrow, then?" said he. "I think I can safely say that," answered Anthony. "Your uncle will be interested to hear your story," said Captain Weir. "It is not a usual one." He stood looking down at Anthony; the side of his face was turned toward the window and the sword-cut along his jaw was red and puckered and angry-looking. "No," he added, and shook his head, "it is not at all a usual one." Then he bade Anthony good day, and warned him to rest quietly; then the door closed behind him, and the young man lay listening to his footsteps as they sounded on the stairs. XXVI