arrived, telling the man to drive to Turnham Green.

And long before they reached that distant part of London, Westerham convinced himself that even had he been pursued at all he had certainly outdistanced the pursuers.

From Turnham Green he took the District Railway to Earl's Court. Alighting there, he walked to South Kensington, where he again took the train, on this occasion booking straight through to Whitechapel.

From St. Mary's, Whitechapel, he turned south, and plunging through a maze of little streets came on foot to Limehouse at about nine o'clock.

He had little difficulty in finding the “Cut,” and walking briskly down it, came to the little space[Pg 124] where the tall, four-storeyed building was set back from the roadway.

[Pg 124]

Always quick to observe detail, he had not only noticed but he recollected Melun's peculiar rap. So three times he knocked slowly, and again three times slowly, and then three times in quick succession.

As on the former occasion, the door swung open at once, and the hideous face of the negro he had treated so cavalierly before peered at him from the darkness.

The nigger peered eagerly about as though seeking for Melun, and when he saw that Westerham stood there alone, made as though to slam the door on him.

But Westerham was too quick for him, and thrust his heavy-booted foot into the opening and laughed in the negro's face.

The negro cursed him roundly and demanded what he wanted.

“Let me in,” said Westerham, quietly, “and I will explain.”

Most unwillingly the negro opened the door, and Westerham, entering the passage, looked the black squarely in the eyes.

“I fancy that it is none of your business to inquire what I want?” he said. “I was brought here by Captain Melun and properly introduced, if such is the term you use. And my affairs at the present moment are with the gentlemen of the club. I will thank you to take me there at once.”

The negro gave him an ugly look.

“Did Captain Melun send you?” he asked.

[Pg 125]

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