less by the process of reason than by a brute instinct, that in the
mysterious resuscitation and nocturnal wanderings of the pretended
paralytic, some danger menaced his master; he became anxious to learn
whether it was really St. John's room Madame Dalibard stealthily visited.
A bright idea struck him; and in the course of the day, at an hour when
the family were out of doors, he contrived to coax the good-natured
valet, who had taken him under his special protection, to show him over
the house. He had heard the other servants say there was such a power of
fine things that a peep into the rooms was as good as a show, and the
valet felt pride in being cicerone even to Beck. After having stared
sufficiently at the banquet-hall and the drawing-room, the armour, the
busts, and the pictures, and listened, open-mouthed, to his guide's
critical observations, Beck was led up the great stairs into the old
family picture-gallery, and into Sir Miles's ancient room at the end,
which had been left undisturbed, with the bed still in the angle; on
returning thence, Beck found himself in the corridor which communicated
with the principal bedrooms, in which he had lost himself the night
before.

"And vot room be that vith the littul vite 'ead h-over the door?" asked
Beck, pointing to the chamber from which Madame Dalibard had emerged.

"That white head, Master Beck, is Floorer the goddess; but a heathen like
you knows nothing about goddesses. Floorer has a half-moon in her hair,
you see, which shows that the idolatrous Turks worship her; for the
Turkish flag is a half-moon, as I have seen at Constantinople. I have
travelled, Beck."

"And vot room be it? Is it the master's?" persisted Beck.