As I held it to the light I observed that at a spot some five inches above the brass tip the narrow neck of the leather funnel was all haggled and scored, as if someone had notched it round with a blunt knife.  Only at that point was there any roughening of the dead black surface.

“Someone has tried to cut off the neck.”

“Would you call it a cut?”

“It is torn and lacerated.  It must have taken some strength to leave these marks on such tough material, whatever the instrument may have been.  But what do you think of it?  I can tell that you know more than you say.”

Dacre smiled, and his little eyes twinkled with knowledge.

“Have you included the psychology of dreams among your learned studies?” he asked.

“I did not even know that there was such a psychology.”

“My dear sir, that shelf above the gem case is filled with volumes, from Albertus Magnus onward, which deal with no other subject.  It is a science in itself.”

“A science of charlatans!”

“The charlatan is always the pioneer.  From the astrologer came the astronomer, from the alchemist the chemist, from the mesmerist the experimental psychologist.  The quack of yesterday is the professor of tomorrow.  Even such subtle and elusive things as dreams will in time be reduced to system and order.  When that time comes the researches of our friends on the bookshelf yonder will no longer be the amusement of the mystic, but the foundations of a science.”

“Supposing that is so, what has the science of dreams to do with a large, black, brass-rimmed funnel?”

“I will tell you.  You know that I have an agent who is always on the look-out for rarities and curiosities for my collection.  Some days ago he heard of a dealer upon one of the Quais who had acquired some old rubbish found in a cupboard in an ancient house at the back of the Rue Mathurin, in the Quartier Latin.  The dining-room of this old house is decorated with a coat of arms, chevrons, and bars rouge upon a field argent, which prove, upon inquiry, to be the shield of Nicholas de la Reynie, a high official of King Louis XIV.  There can be no doubt that the other articles in the cupboard date back to the early days of that king.  The inference is, therefore, that they were all the property of this Nicholas de la Reynie, who was, as I understand, the gentleman specially concerned with the maintenance and execution of the Draconic laws of that epoch.”

“What then?”

“I would ask you now to take the funnel into your hands once more and to examine the upper brass rim.  Can you make out any lettering upon it?”

There were certainly some scratches upon it, almost obliterated by time.  The general effect was of several letters, the last of which bore some resemblance to a B.

“You make it a B?”

“Yes, I do.”

“So do I. In fact, I have no doubt whatever that it is a B.”