Weak and sleepy as he was, this action on the part of the doctor roused Jack, whose eyes settled on the Italian. "Bambino!" he cried, shuddering as if his gaze had rested on a black snake. The doctor had removed the cork of the bottle and tasted its contents on the tip of his tongue. "Strychnine!" he ejaculated. Bambino, finding he was detected and his scheme frustrated, gnashed his teeth with baffled rage. It was high time for him to endeavor to escape, and he made his way toward the door. "No you don't, my friend," exclaimed the doctor, barring his exit. Bambino, as we know, was a man of unlimited resources. He drew from his vest a long, polished dagger which scattered a thousand flashes as he brandished it in the gas-light. "_Santa Maria_!" he cried. "Steel talks, signor." The doctor was in no way disconcerted, for he quickly produced a pistol. "Yes, my good fellow," he rejoined, "and here is an iron dog that can bark." Bambino made a rush upon the doctor, who fired, but his bullet missed its mark and he received the point of the dagger in his arm. The coat was cut open, the skin slightly ripped and blood flowed, though no serious injury was done. This was a fortunate miss for the Italian, who at once made his escape down the stairs, and into the street, where in the darkness he easily eluded pursuit. "Are you hurt, doctor?" asked Jack. "Only got a scratch, a mere flesh wound. Do you know the fellow?" was the reply. "Unfortunately I do; he is a hired assassin." "This in the bottle is a deadly poison, you have escaped by a miracle." The pistol-shot had aroused the whole house, and every one came rushing into the room. In a hurried manner the doctor explained what had happened, and having cleared the room, gave Jack a composing draught. Alfred Van Hoosen was much chagrined that such a dastardly crime should have been attempted in his house, and notified the police. No arrest was made, however, for every effort to find the Italian was unsuccessful. Time passed on, and in ten days, Jack was quite well, though still a little weak. His friends came to see him every day, and he determined to return to his hotel. Having announced his intention to Alfred, he thanked him very warmly for his kindness. All traces of animosity had faded away, and he was in reality a friend of the family. Lena smiled upon him, and was sincerely rejoiced at his recovery, which at first, with a woman's nervous anxiety, she had despaired of. As he was going away, Alfred drew him on one side. "You won't think me rude," he said. "But I should like to ask you a few questions." "By all means," replied Jack. "In the first place, who is this Italian and why does he persecute you?" "He attempted my life on board ship; I have reason to think he put the wallet belonging to Mr. Cobb in my pocket; he frightened the horse and he endeavored to poison me." "But why? It is incomprehensible to me." Jack hesitated for a moment, and colored slightly.