"Yes, sir, Captain Danby sent for me to attend him there--I found him in bed exceedingly--unwell. He was--suffering, sir. He suffered quite a--good deal of--pain, sir--of pain."

Saying which, Clegg bowed us out into the street with a deeper obeisance than usual.

"Strange!" said Anthony, taking my arm. "You have probably forgotten this Danby, the fellow I had the pleasure of thrashing, Perry?"

"I shall never forget how you stood on him and wiped your boots, Anthony."

"I did chastise him somewhat severely, I remember. But I learned something more of his villainy from Barbara, as we drove away, and I returned next day to give him another dose but found him in bed bandaged like a mummy and this Clegg fellow of yours beside him. I learned afterwards that he was friend to that same scoundrel Barbara's father was forcing the sweet soul to marry, d.a.m.n him!"

"The world seems full of unhanged villains!" said I, through shut teeth.

"Oh, is it, begad?"

"It is!"

"You're devilish gloomy, Perry."

"I fear I am."

"All stomach, ye know, dear fellow. I've noticed this poor old world is generally blamed most d.a.m.nably, purely because of the night of the morning after--more especially upon an empty--"

"Don't say it again, Anthony, for heaven's sake!"

"But you're curst gloomy and devilish doleful--"

"Anthony, dear man, while you were snoring blissfully this morning I watched a poor, beautiful young creature dragged out of the river."

"Dead, Perry?"

"Yes. She was probably drowning herself last night while we drank and rioted--poor despairing child!" and here I described the dreadful incident very fully. "You have never met or heard of any one named Haredale, have you, Anthony?" I ended.

"No," he answered, "no! Gad, Perry," he burst out with a vicious twirl of his cane, "there are times when killing is a laudable act!" After this we walked in silence for some time.

"Where are we going?" he questioned suddenly.

Hereupon I glanced up, for I had walked with my gaze bent earthward, and saw that we were close upon the river.

"Since we are here," I answered, "I will show you where it--she lies.

It was yonder they found her, and over there, beyond those trees, is a wretched tavern--"

"And on the other side of the hedge, Perry, is a small, unpleasant person who peeps and peers and follows. Let us investigate!"

So saying, Anthony turned suddenly and confronted a small, mean-looking fellow who starting back out of reach, touched a s.h.a.ggy eyebrow, cringed, and spoke:

"No offence, my lords an' gents--none in th' world, s' help me true!"

Having said which, he clapped fingers to mouth and whistled very shrilly. "Not by no means nowise meanin' no offence, my lords," quoth he apologetically, "but dooty is dooty--an' 'ere 'e be!" Glancing whither he pointed, I saw a man approaching, a shortish, broad-shouldered, square-faced, leisurely person in a broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat and full-skirted frieze greatcoat; a man of slow gait and deliberate movement but with a quick and roving eye.

"Th' little 'un's th' gent, guv'nor--'e's th' cove! whispered the mean-looking fellow hoa.r.s.ely, and now I recognised him as one of the two waterside characters I had met that morning with my uncle Jervas.

The man in the frieze coat removed his hat, bobbed round head at Anthony, at me, and spoke, addressing himself to me:

"'T is in ewidence, sir, as you an' another gent 'appened to be a-pa.s.sin' by when a lately de-funct o' the fe-male persuasion vas took out o' th' river at the hour o' four-two-two pre-cisely, this 'ere werry mornin'. Am I right?"

"That is so," I answered.

"'T is also in ewidence, sir, as you an' your friend 'appening to pa.s.s--by chance or de-sign, so werry remarkable early in the mornin', stopped to ob-serve same de-funct party o' the fe-male persuasion. Am I right again?"

"We did."

"'T is furthermore in ewidence, sir, that upon ob-serving corpse, you an' your friend seemed werry much took aback, not to say overcome. Am I--"

"They was, Jarsper, they was--oncommon!" quoth the smaller man hoa.r.s.ely.

"'Enery, 'old your tongue! Now, sir, am I right or am I not?"

"We were both very naturally shocked," said I.

"Vich feelin's, sir, does you both credit--oceans. But 't is further in ewidence as your friend did commit a a.s.sault upon the body o' one Thomas Vokins by means of a cane an' there an' then took, removed, appre'ended or ab-stracted ewidence in the shape o' a piece o' paper as 'ad fell from right 'and o' said corpse. Am I right once more?"

"Not altogether!" said I. "The man wrenched open the dead girl's fingers so brutally that my--companion very properly rapped him with his cane and noticing the piece of paper, ordered the man to give it to him."

"Good--werry good! Now I puts it to you, sir--vere is that piece o'

paper?"

"Probably in my companion's possession."

"Good again! An' vere might 'e be?"

"That I decline to tell you!"

"Vy then, sir, dooty bein' dooty, I'll take a valk."

"As you will!" said I. "Come, Anthony!" and turning, we began to retrace our steps. But we had gone but a little way when I faced suddenly about, for the man was plodding at our heels.

"Why the devil do you follow us?" I demanded, greatly exasperated.

"Becos' dooty is dooty, sir, an' dooty demands same," he answered imperturbably.

"Who are you, fellow?"

"Jarsper Shrig, Bow Street officer--werry much at your service, sir!"

"And what do you want of me?"

"A piece o' paper, sir, as ewidence to establish i-dentifi-cation of de-funct young party o' the fe-male persuasion in a case o' murder or feller-de-see--"

Here I turned and walked on again in no little perplexity.

"What am I to do, Anthony?" I muttered.