Mr. Gorby had been watching the Frettlby mansion the whole evening, and
was getting rather annoyed. Moreland did not know where Fitzgerald
lived, and as that was one of the primary facts the detective wished to
ascertain, he determined to watch Brian's movements, and to trace him
home.

"If he's the lover of that pretty girl, I'll wait till he leaves the
house," argued Mr. Gorby to himself, as he took his seat on the
Esplanade. "He won't long remain away from her, and once he leaves the
house it will be no difficult matter to find out where he lives."

When Brian made his appearance early in the evening, on his way to Mark
Frettlby's mansion, he wore evening dress, a light overcoat, and a soft
hat.

"Well, I'm dashed!" ejaculated Mr. Gorby, when he saw Fitzgerald
disappear; "if he isn't a fool I don't know who is, to go about
in the very clothes he wore when he polished Whyte off, and think he
won't be recognised. Melbourne ain't Paris or London, that he can
afford to be so careless, and when I put the darbies on him he will be
astonished. Ah, well," he went on, lighting his pipe and taking a seat
on the Esplanade, "I suppose I'll have to wait here till he comes out."

Mr. Gorby's patience was pretty severely tried, for hour after hour
passed, and no one appeared. He smoked several pipes, and watched the
people strolling along in the soft silver moonlight. A bevy of girls
passed by with their arms round one another's waists. Then a young man
and woman, evidently lovers, came walking along. They sat down by Mr.
Gorby and looked hard at him, to hint that he need not stay. But the
detective took no heed of them, and kept his eyes steadily upon the