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Page 43
I leapt out of the cab, thrust half a crown into the man's hand,
and ran on to the corner. The night was now far advanced, and I
knew that the chances of detection were thereby increased. But
the woman seemed to have abandoned her fears, and I saw her just
ahead of me walking resolutely past the lamp beyond which a short
time earlier she had met with a dangerous adventure.
Since the opposite side of the street was comparatively in darkness,
I slipped across, and in a state of high nervous tension pursued
this strange work of espionage. I was convinced that I had
forestalled Bristol and that I was hot upon the track of those who
could explain the mystery of the dead dwarf.
The woman entered the gate of the block of dwellings even more
forbidding in appearance than those which that night had staged
a dreadful drama.
As the figure with the basket was lost from view I crept on, and
in turn entered the evil-smelling hallway. I stepped cautiously,
and standing beneath a gaslight protected by a wire frame, I
congratulated myself upon having reached that point of vantage as
silently as any Sioux stalker.
Footsteps were receding up the stone stairs. Craning my neck, I
peered up the well of the staircase. I could not see the woman,
but from the sound of her tread it was possible to count the
landings which she passed. When she had reached the fourth, and I
heard her step upon yet another flight, I knew that she must be
bound for the topmost floor; and observing every precaution, almost
holding my breath in a nervous endeavour to make not the slightest
sound, rapidly I mounted the stairs.
I was come to the third landing in this secret fashion when quite
distinctly I heard the grating of a key in a lock!
Since four doors opened upon each of the landings, at all costs,
I thought, I must learn by which door she entered.
Throwing caution to the winds I raced up the remaining flights . . .
and there at the top the woman confronted me, with blazing eyes!--
with eyes that thrilled every nerve; for they were violet eyes, the
only truly violet eyes I have ever seen! They were the eyes of the
woman who like a charming, mocking will-o'-the-wisp had danced
through this tragic scene from the time that poor Professor Deeping
had brought the Prophet's slipper to London up to this present hour!
There at the head of those stone steps in that common dwelling-house
I knew her--and in the violet eyes it was written that she knew,
and feared, me!
"What do you want? Why are you following me?"
She made no endeavour to disguise her voice. Almost, I think, she
spoke the words involuntarily.
I stood beside her. Quickly as she had turned from the door at my
ascent, I had noted that it was that numbered forty-eight which she
had been about to open.
"You waste words," I said grimly. "Who lives there?"
I nodded in the direction of the doorway. The violet eyes watched
me with an expression in their depths which I find myself wholly
unable to describe. Fear predominated, but there was anger, too,
and with it a sort of entreaty which almost made me regret that I
had taken this task upon myself. From beneath the shabby black hat
escaped an errant lock of wavy hair wholly inconsistent with the
assumed appearance of the woman. The flickering gaslight on the
landing sought out in that wonderful hair shades which seemed to
glow with the soft light seen in the heart of a rose. The thick
veil was raised now and all attempts at deception abandoned. At
bay she faced me, this secret woman whom I knew to hold the key to
some of the darkest places which we sought to explore.
"I live there," she said slowly. "What do you want with me?"
"I want to know," I replied, "for whom are those provisions in
your basket?"
She watched me fixedly.
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