Miriam sank gently on a high chair, and drooping her head pensively on
her hand, sat for some time in unbroken silence, gazing out through
the open door at the motley crowds passing by.

Suddenly a dusky form, clad in the garb of a fisherman, entered, and
drawing near Phenee, glanced nervously around.

"I wish to sell that. How much will you give me for it?" laying a
jeweled poignard, with a golden chain attached, on the desk.

Phenee took it up and examined it attentively, then looked searchingly
at the man.

Satisfied at his scrutiny, the Jew named a very low price, one which
his customer had some hesitation in accepting; but at last, seeing
Phenee was obdurate, he took the offered money, and glided off like a
spectre.

"What a curious poignard, and how pretty!" Miriam said, lifting it
from the scales, where Phenee had placed it. "I am surprised he took
so little for it."

"I'm not. One can't offer too little for stolen goods."

"Do you think this is stolen?"

"I am sure it is. That man never came honestly by it."

Scarcely had the poignard been put on one side, when two young men,
handsomely dressed, entered the shop, and asked for some emeralds.