the opposite side of the street.
After a minute, a cab came by slowly, and stopped where the mechanic
was standing. The boy could only see plainly one person in the cab, who
leaned forward at the window to speak to the mechanic. He described that
person, Mr. Blake, without any prompting from me, as having a dark face,
like the face of an Indian."

It was plain, by this time, that Mr. Bruff and I had made another
mistake. The sailor with the black beard was clearly not a spy in the
service of the Indian conspiracy. Was he, by any possibility, the man
who had got the Diamond?

"After a little," pursued the Sergeant, "the cab moved on slowly
down the street. The mechanic crossed the road, and went into the
eating-house. The boy waited outside till he was hungry and tired--and
then went into the eating-house, in his turn. He had a shilling in his
pocket; and he dined sumptuously, he tells me, on a black-pudding, an
eel-pie, and a bottle of ginger-beer. What can a boy not digest? The
substance in question has never been found yet."

"What did he see in the eating-house?" I asked.

"Well, Mr. Blake, he saw the sailor reading the newspaper at one table,
and the mechanic reading the newspaper at another. It was dusk before
the sailor got up, and left the place. He looked about him suspiciously
when he got out into the street. The boy--BEING a boy--passed unnoticed.
The mechanic had not come out yet. The sailor walked on, looking about
him, and apparently not very certain of where he was going next. The
mechanic appeared once more, on the opposite side of the road. The
sailor went on, till he got to Shore Lane, leading into Lower Thames
Street. There he stopped before a public-house, under the sign of 'The
Wheel of Fortune,' and, after examining the place outside, went in.
Gooseberry went in too. There were a great many people, mostly of the
decent sort, at the bar. 'The Wheel of Fortune' is a very respectable
house, Mr. Blake; famous for its porter and pork-pies."

The Sergeant's digressions irritated me. He saw it; and confined himself
more strictly to Gooseberry's evidence when he went on.

"The sailor," he resumed, "asked if he could have a bed. The landlord
said 'No; they were full.' The barmaid corrected him, and said 'Number
Ten was empty.' A waiter was sent for to show the sailor to Number Ten.
Just before that, Gooseberry had noticed the mechanic among the people
at the bar. Before the waiter had answered the call