sely. In
the pointed gable, just under the roof, a tiny window with a light
behind it seemed to be blinking out of the darkness like the single eye
of some inebriate loafer. Seeing that the small casement was partially
open and concluding that some one at any rate must be making use of that
light up there, Diogenes at last made up his mind to knock at the door;
and as there was no knocker and he never carried a riding whip he gave
the substantial oak panel a vigorous kick with his boot.

Whereupon the light up above immediately went out, just as if the
one-eyed inebriate had dropped off to sleep.

This sudden extinguishing of the light, however, only served to prove to
Diogenes that some one was up and astir inside the house, so without
more ado he proceeded to pound more forcibly against the door with his
foot, to shout at the top of his voice, and generally to make a rousing
noise--an art of which he was past master.

Soon he heard a soft grating behind the judas, and he felt--more than he
saw--that a pair of eyes were peering at him from within.

"Open, Mynheer Ben Isaje," he cried loudly and peremptorily, "ere I
rouse this entire evil-smelling neighbourhood with my calls. Open I tell
you ere I break in your door first and your nose--which I suspect to be
over long and over ruddy--afterwards."

"'Tis too late to transact business now," came in a feeble high-pitched
voice from behind the narrow judas, "too late and too dark. The shop is
closed."

"'Tis not with your shop that I have to do, master," quoth Diogenes
impatiently, "but with yourself, if indeed you are Mynheer Ben Isaje, as
I gravely suspect that you are."

"What do you want with Ben Isaje?" queried the timorous voice, "he hath
gone home for the night. His house is situate...."

"His house shall be verdommt if you parley any longer behind that
grating, man; aye and this shop too, for if you do not open that door
immediately I will break the windows, for my business brooks no delay,
and I must needs get into this house as best I can."

But despite his threat, no attempt was made to draw the bolts from
within, whereupon Diogenes, whose stock of patience was never
inexhaustible, and who moreover wished to give value to his threats,
took a step backwards and then with a sudden spring threw his whole
weight against the oak door; a proceeding which caused the tumble-down
house to shake upon its foundations.

The next moment the timorous voice was once