proceeded with systematic care. It was still broad daylight--for the
lamps in the tea-shop had been rendered necessary only by the faulty
construction of the premises and the dullness of the afternoon--and in
an open space I could see far enough for complete safety. Arriving at
the top of Sloane Street, I crossed Knightsbridge, and, entering Hyde
Park, struck out towards the Serpentine. Passing along the eastern
shore, I entered one of the long paths that lead towards the Marble Arch
and strode along it at such a pace as would make it necessary for any
pursuer to hurry in order to keep me in sight. Half-way across the great
stretch of turf, I halted for a few moments and noted the few people who
were coming in my direction. Then I turned sharply to the left and
headed straight for the Victoria Gate, but again, half-way, I turned off
among a clump of trees, and, standing behind the trunk of one of them,
took a fresh survey of the people who were moving along the paths. All
were at a considerable distance and none appeared to be coming my way.

I now moved cautiously from one tree to another and passed through the
wooded region to the south, crossed the Serpentine bridge at a rapid
walk and hurrying along the south shore left the Park by Apsley House.
From hence I walked at the same rapid pace along Piccadilly, insinuating
myself among the crowd with the skill born of long acquaintance with the
London streets, crossed amidst the seething traffic at the Circus,
darted up Windmill Street and began to zigzag amongst the narrow streets
and courts of Soho. Crossing the Seven Dials and Drury Lane I passed
through the multitudinous back-streets and alleys that then filled the
area south of Lincoln's Inn, came out by Newcastle Street, Holywell
Street and Half-Moon Alley into the Strand, which I crossed immediately,
ultimately entering the Temple by Devereux Court.

Even then I did not relax my precautions. From one court to another I