the floor, and near it a black kid glove.

"By George! it's Black Gorgiano himself!" cried the American
detective. "Someone has got ahead of us this time."

"Here is the candle in the window, Mr. Holmes," said Gregson.
"Why, whatever are you doing?"

Holmes had stepped across, had lit the candle, and was passing it
backward and forward across the window-panes. Then he peered
into the darkness, blew the candle out, and threw it on the
floor.

"I rather think that will be helpful," said he. He came over and
stood in deep thought while the two professionals were examining
the body. "You say that three people came out form the flat while
you were waiting downstairs," said he at last. "Did you observe
them closely?"

"Yes, I did."

"Was there a fellow about thirty, black-bearded, dark, of middle
size?"

"Yes; he was the last to pass me."

"That is your man, I fancy. I can give you his description, and
we have a very excellent outline of his footmark. That should be
enough for you."