“Never mind that now,” I answered. “Go to bed. I shall not want you any more to-night.” “No, sir,” said Hinge. “If you'll excuse me, sir, this is something very important.” He was not wont to be troublesome, but after all the events of that strange night I was fairly unsettled and pretty well out of temper. I snapped at Hinge, telling him to go and not to bother me with any nonsense just then. “Got to tell you this, sir,” said Hinge, standing at attention, and looking straight before him. Even then it was with no sense of importance in the matter he had to communicate that I listened to him. “Go on,” I said, “and get it over. What is it?” “Well, sir,” said Hinge, “when I was in the general's service in Vienna I used to see a lot of the Austrian police. I got to know some of them by sight--a good many, I might say. Secret chaps, they was, sir--spies.” “That's all very interesting,” I returned, “but you can see I'm bothered just at present, and I want to be alone. You can tell me all that at another time.” “There's one of them a-living in this house, sir,” said Hinge, as little moved by my interruption as if I had not spoken. This was news, and my impatience and ill-temper vanished. “How do you know?” I asked. “Tell me all about it.” “I never set eyes on him but just this minute, sir,” said Hinge, “since I left Vienna. But he walked upstairs just now with a latch-key in his hand, and he went into the rooms overhead of yours, sir. That's him a-walking about now, I'll lay a fiver.” As a matter of fact, I could bear a heavy footstep pacing the room above. “The odd part of it is, sir,” Hinge pursued, “this cove knows Mr. Brunow, and Mr. Brunow knows him, sir.” “Oh,” I asked, fully interested by this time, “how do you know that?” “They spoke together on the stairs, sir. This fellow Sacovitch, that's his name, he says to Mr. Brunow, 'Alloa,' he says, 'you 'ere?' And Mr. Brunow says, 'Don't speak to me; I'll write to you.' Now I don't like the look o' that, sir, and I thought you ought to know about it.” “You are quite right, Hinge,” I said. “It was your business to tell me; and if I had known it yesterday, or if I had only known of it eight hours ago, it might have been of use to me.” “This Sacovitch chap didn't see me, sir,” said Hinge, with a certain modest exultation; “I took care of that. But I nips half-way upstairs after him, and sees him open the door with his latch-key, and then I nips down again.” “Do you think he would know you if he saw you?” I asked. “There's no saying about that, sir,” Hinge responded; “he might and he mightn't. You see, sir, he's a swell in his own way, this chap is. He used to dine with the general, and they used to salute him like as if he was an officer. There was every reason, don't you see, sir, why I should notice him, and there was no mortal reason in the world why he should notice me. But there's no mistaking him, sir, and I should have spotted his ugly mug among a million.”