no one knew where he had
gone; had come back, comparatively a few years later, under another
name, a very rich man, and had entered Parliament and been, in a modest
way, a public character without any of those who knew him in his new
career suspecting that he had once worn a dress liberally ornamented
with the broad arrow. Fine copy, excellent copy: some of the morning
newspapers made a couple of columns of it.

But the _Watchman_, up to then easily ahead of all its contemporaries
in keeping the public informed of all the latest news in connection
with the Marbury affair, contented itself with a brief announcement.
For after Rathbury had left him, Spargo had sought his proprietor and
his editor, and had sat long in consultation with them, and the result
of their talk had been that all the _Watchman_ thought fit to tell its
readers next morning was contained in a curt paragraph:

"We understand that Mr. Stephen Aylmore, M.P., who is charged with the
murder of John Marbury, or Maitland, in the Temple on June 21st last,
was yesterday afternoon identified by certain officials as Stephen
Ainsworth, who was sentenced to a term of penal servitude in connection
with the Hearth and Home Mutual Benefit Society funds nearly thirty
years ago."

Coming down to Fleet Street that morning, Spargo, strolling jauntily
along the front of the Law Courts, encountered a fellow-journalist, a
man on an opposition newspaper, who grinned at him in a fashion which
indicated derision.

"Left behind a bit, that rag of yours, this morning, Spargo, my boy!"
he remarked elegantly. "Why, you've missed one of the finest
opportunities I ever heard of in connection with that Aylmore affair. A
miserable paragraph!--why, I worked off a column and a half in ours!
What were you doing last night, old man?"

"Sleeping," said Spargo and went by with a nod. "Sleeping!"

He left the other staring at him, and crossed the road to Middle Temple
Lane. It was just on the stroke of eleven as he walked up the stairs to
Mr. Elphick's chambers; precisely eleven as he knocked at the outer
door. It is seldom that outer doors are closed in the Temple at that
hour, but Elphick's door was closed fast enough. The night before it
had been promptly opened, but there was no response to Spargo's first
knock, nor to his second, nor to his third. And half-unconsciously he
murmured aloud: "Elphick's door is closed!"

It never occurred to Spargo to knock again: instinct told him