and I instructed the man to wait for me.

Although the morning was still young, the prominence given by the
press to this sensational crime had resulted in the presence of quite
a considerable group of pilgrims who even thus early had arrived to
look upon the scene of the mysterious tragedy. London is a city of
onlookers. The most trivial street accident never lacks its interested
audience, and a house in which a murder is reputed to have taken place
becomes a center upon which the idly curious focus from the four
points of the compass.

Our arrival created a subdued excitement amongst the nondescript group
gathered upon the pavement. Despite the efforts of a constable on
duty, men, women and children persistently gathered before the gates
of the drive peering up at the empty house as if they anticipated
seeing the face of the murderer or an apparition of the victim appear
behind one of the windows. A considerable group, too, was gathered
before the garage, but as Gatton and I descended and began to walk up
the drive there was a general movement in our direction.

"I wonder," said I, "if 'A,' the wanted man, is among the crowd? One
reads that murderers are irresistibly drawn back to the scene of their
crimes."

"He may be," replied Gatton; "anyway there are two C.I.D. men there
for certain, so that 'A' will do well to be upon his guard."

A few moments later I found myself again in the lounge-hall of the Red
House; and the place now seemed to me to have taken on an air of
oppressive mystery. In the very deserted silence of the house I