oking westwards, a man was standing in
the middle of the road. The light from the lamp-post escaped his
face. Laverick could only see that he was slim, of medium height,
dressed in dark clothes, with his hands in the pockets of his
overcoat. To all appearance, he was watching the entry. Laverick
took a step towards him--the man as deliberately took a step further
away. Laverick held up his hand.

"Hullo!" he called out, and beckoned.

The person addressed took no notice. Laverick advanced another two
or three steps--the man retreated a similar distance. Laverick
changed his tactics and made a sudden spring forward. The man
hesitated no longer--he turned and ran as though for his life. In
a few minutes he was round the corner of the street and out of sight.
Laverick returned slowly to the entry.

A distant clock struck midnight. A couple of clerks came along the
pavement on the other side, their hands and arms full of letters.
Laverick hesitated. He was never afterwards able to account for the
impulse which prevented his calling out to them. Instead he lurked
in the shadows and watched them go by. When he was sure that they
had disappeared, he bent once more over the body of the murdered
man. Already that huddled-up heap was beginning to exercise a
nameless and terrible fascination for him. His first feelings of
horror were mingled now with an insatiable curiosity. What manner
of man was he? He was tall and strongly built; fair--of almost
florid complexion. His clothes were very shabby and apparently
ready-made. His moustache was upturned, and his hair was trimmed
closer than is the custom amongst Englishmen. Laverick stooped
lower and lower until he found himself almost on his knees. There
was something projecting from the man's pocket as though it had been
half snatched out--a large portfolio of brown leather, almost the
size of a satchel. Laverick drew it out, holding it in one hand
whilst with firm fingers he struck another match. Then, for the
first time, a little cry broke from his lips. Both sides of the
pocket-book were filled with bank-notes. As his match flickered
out, he caught a glimpse of the figures in the left-hand corner--500
pounds!--great rolls of them! Laverick rose gasping to his
feet. It was a new Arabian Nights, this!--a dream!--a continuation
of the nightmare which had threatened him all day! Or was it,
perhaps, the madness coming--the madness which he had begun only