Like many others, I found my sudden acquisition of wealth had made me
not a whit the more contented than when I was compelled to write for an
existence. Still, I was a thorough-going Bohemian, and never happier
than when amongst that free-and-easy artistic circle that made the
Junior Garrick its headquarters.
For years Nugent had been my particular chum, and had frequently been
the means of getting my articles accepted when I was more than usually
hard-up; and now, in my affluence, I did not fail to remember the many
services my old friend had rendered me.
As we sat together under the stars I was confiding to him how
discontented I had felt of late.
"Well, my dear fellow, there's only one remedy," said Bob, blowing a
cloud of smoke from his lips.
"And what's that?"
"Get married."
"Marriage be hanged! I couldn't settle down; besides, it is not my
intention to forge the matrimonial gyves just yet. The fact is, Bob,
I'm not well. I believe this horrible murder has given me a touch of
the blues, and nothing but an entire change will rid me of it. I'm
bored with everything, and with myself most of all. It may seem
strange, but I have no object in life, except merely to exist. Once I
envied fellows with money, but, by Jove, I don't now."
"Then what is your intention?"
"To go abroad; and I want you to accompany me."
"I should be only too pleased, providing I could get away, but I have a
great deal of work on hand which I must finish," replied Nugent.
"Do come, and take the rest with you. Fresh surroundings will incite
new inspirations, and you can combine business with pleasure. Can you
be ready by next Saturday?"
"Well, yes, I think so; but where do you intend going?"
"Don't know, and don't care a straw, as long as I get a change. We'll
run over to Paris first, and afterwards decide where shall be our next
halting-place."
"And how long do you propose being away?"
"Six months--a year, if you like."
"I must return in a couple of months at latest, for I've business to
attend to."
"Very well, return whenever you please. What do you say to starting by
the night mail on Saturday?"
Bob replied in the affirmative, and we ratified the agreement over a
bottle of Pommery.
Later that night when I left the Club to walk home, my thoughts
involuntarily wandered to the mysterious tragedy which I had discovered.
It was past one o'clock, and few people were about as I turned from Adam
Street into the Strand. I was alone, and strolling along at an easy
pace, passed down Drury Lane.
Suddenly I became conscious that some one had been following me, though
the footsteps of the person seemed almost noiseless.
Thinking it might be some pickpocket, I buttoned my coat across the
chest, and grasping my stick firmly, waited until I approached a
gas-lamp, then turning suddenly, confronted a respectably-dressed man in
the garb of a mechanic.
He was only a few yards from me, and at first I felt ashamed of
exhibiting such fear, but a momentary glance sufficed to show that this
person was also connected with the adventure of the never-to-be
forgotten evening.
He was an elderly man, who bore a striking resemblance to the detective
who had called upon me.
I stood aghast, for this man's appearance had been so sudden and
unexpected that I was too much confused for the moment to collect my
thoughts.
He was apparently following me and keeping observation upon my
movements. That fact instantly aroused in me a feeling of great
indignation. I should have spoken, and probably an angry scene would
have followed, had not he, with a celerity of movement which baffled my
efforts, almost instantly gone off in an opposite direction.