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pen 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. "While you are choosing, I will have a look round at all these curiosities, Miguel," the youngest of the men remarked. "As you like; I shan't be long, Diniz." Sampayo nodded, and commenced his search, turning over every object that took his fancy, aided by Miriam. "I will show you something very curious--a poignard strangely fashioned," the girl said, drawing the weapon her grandfather had just bought from its hiding place. Diniz took it up and examined it attentively, then a low cry broke from his lips, and his face grew pale. "Where did you get this?" "I have just bought it. It is a very pretty toy for a gentleman," Phenee broke in persuasively. With almost eager haste Diniz bargained for the poignard, and at last managed to bring the Jew down to ten times the sum he had given the fisherman. After his friend, Miguel Reale, had chosen the jewels he wanted, Diniz hurried him away. Not many hours later, as the young Jewess sat alone, her grandfather having gone some distance off on business, she was startled by Sampayo suddenly reappearing, a look of intense anxiety on his face. "Senora," he said politely, drawing from his breast the poignard, "can you tell me from whom your father bought this?" "I do not know his name, but I believe he is a fisherman and lives in yonder village," Miriam answered simply. "Should you know him again? Pardon my asking, but it is very important
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