CHAPTER V

THE OCCUPANT OF THE BOX


Dimly to my ears came the ceaseless murmur of London. The night now
was far advanced, and not a sound disturbed the silence of the court
below my windows.

Professor Deeping's "Assyrian Mythology" lay open before me, beside
it my notebook. A coal dropped from the fire, and I half started up
out of my chair. My nerves were all awry, and I had more than my
horrible memories of the murdered man to thank for it. Let me
explain what I mean.

When, after assisting, or endeavouring to assist, Bristol at his
elaborate inquiries, I had at last returned to my chambers, I had
become the victim of a singular delusion--though one common enough
in the case of persons whose nerves are overwrought. I had thought
myself followed.

During the latter part of my journey I found myself constantly
looking from the little window at the rear of the cab. I had an
impression that some vehicle was tracking us. Then, when I
discharged the man and walked up the narrow passage to the court,
it was fear of a skulking form that dodged from shadow to shadow
which obsessed me.

Finally, as I entered the hall and mounted the darkened stair, from
the first landing I glanced down into the black well beneath.