hieved.
When he had convinced himself on this head, he abstracted a key from the
dead man's pocket and approached a safe, built into the wall. The handle
turned and the door swung open. A moment later he had taken a ring set
with a scarabaeus from a drawer and dropped it into his pocket. After
that he paused while he considered in which direction it would be safest
for him to make his escape. A policeman's step sounded on the pavement
outside, and as he heard it he looked up, and his thin lips drew back,
showing the wolfish teeth behind. His horrible cunning pointed out to
him the danger he would incur in leaving by the front. Accordingly he
made his way through the sitting-room behind the shop and passed out by
the gate in the yard beyond. A few seconds later he was in my presence,
but whether by accident or design was more than I could say.

So vivid was the picture I had conjured up that I could not help
believing it must be something more than mere conjecture on my part. If
so, what course should I pursue? I had been robbed. I had given a
murderer shelter at the very moment when he stood most in need of it,
and, when the law was close upon his heels, I had pledged my word for
his innocence and perjured myself to ensure his salvation. His presence
had been repulsive to me ever since I had first set eyes on him. I hated
the man as I had hitherto deemed it impossible I could hate any one.
Yet, despite all this, by some power--how real I can not expect any one
to believe--he was compelling me to shield and behave toward him as if
he had been my brother, or at least my dearest friend. I can feel the
shame of that moment even now, the agonising knowledge of the gulf that
separated me from the man I was yesterday, or even an hour before.

I rose from the table, leaving my breakfast untouched, and stood at the
window looking out upon the dismal square beyond. The sunshine of the
earlier morning had given place to a cloudy sky, and, as I watched, a
heavy shower began to fall. It was as if Nature were weeping tears of
shame to see a Child of Man brought so low. I went to the place where,
until a few hours before, the mummy had stood--that wretched mummy which
had been the cause of all the trouble. As I had good reason to know, it
weighed a considerable amount, more, indeed, than I should have imagined
an old man like Pharos could have lifted, much less carried. I examined
the floor, to see if the case had been dragged across