said the turnstile-keeper; "you and your
friends will have the place all to yourselves for a bit." From an
official he had become a man, and it was the man in Mr. Hopkins that
gallantly addressed pretty Daisy Bunting: "It seems strange that a
young lady like you should want to go in and see all those 'orrible
frights," he said jestingly.

"Mrs. Bunting, may I trouble you to come over here for a moment?"

The words were hissed rather than spoken by Mr. Sleuth's lips.

His landlady took a doubtful step towards him.

"A last word with you, Mrs. Bunting." The lodger's face was still
distorted with fear and passion. "Do not think to escape the
consequences of your hideous treachery. I trusted you, Mrs. Bunting,
and you betrayed me! Put I am protected by a higher power, for
I still have much to do." Then, his voice sinking to a whisper, he
hissed out "Your end will be bitter as wormwood and sharp as a
two-edged sword. Your feet shall go down to death, and your steps
take hold on hell."

Even while Mr. Sleuth was muttering these strange, dreadful words,
he was looking round, glancing this way and that, seeking a way of
escape.

At last his eyes became fixed on a small placard placed above a
curtain. "Emergency Exit" was written there. Mrs. Bunting thought
he was going to make a dash for the place; but Mr. Sleuth did
something very different. Leaving his landlady's side, he walked
over to the turnstile, he fumbled in his pocket for a moment, and
then touched the man on the arm. "I feel ill," he said, speaking
very rapidly; "very ill indeed! It is the atmosphere of this place.
I want you to let me out by the quickest way. It would be a pity
for me to faint here--especially with ladies about."

His left hand shot out and placed what he had been fumbling for in
his pocket on the other's bare palm. "I see there's an emergency
exit over there. Would it be possible for me to get out that way?"

"Well, yes, sir; I think so."

The man hesitated; he felt a slight, a very sight, feeling of
misgiving. He looked at Daisy, flushed and smiling, happy and
unconcerned, and then at Mrs. Bunting. She was very pale; but
surely her lodger's sudden seizure was enough to make her feel
worried. Hopkins felt the half-sovereign pleasantly tickling his
palm. The Paris Prefect of Police had given him only half-a-crown
--mean, shabby foreigner!

"Yes, sir; I can let you out that way," he said at last, "and p'raps
when you're standing out in