"I shall be at the Hotel Cecil for a fortnight at least," answered
Armitstead. "And if I can be of any use to you or Mr. Pawle, you've only
to ring me up there. You've no doubt yourself, I think, that the
unfortunate fellow Hyde is innocent?"

"None!" said Viner. "No doubt whatever! But--the police have a strong
case against him. And unless we can find the actual murderer, I'm afraid
Hyde's in a very dangerous position."

"Well," said Armitstead, "in these cases, you never know what a sudden
and unexpected turn of events may do. That man with the muffler is the
chap you want to get hold of--I'm sure of that!"

Viner went home and dined with his aunt and their two guests, Hyde's
sisters, whom he endeavoured to cheer up by saying that things were
developing as favourably as could be expected, and that he hoped to
have good news for them ere long. They were simple souls, pathetically
grateful for any scrap of sympathy and comfort, and he strove to
appear more confident about the chances of clearing this unlucky
brother than he really felt. It was his intention to go round to
Number Seven during the evening, to deliver Mr. Pawle's message to
Miss Wickham, but before he rose from his own table, a message arrived
by Miss Wickham's parlour-maid--would Mr. Viner be kind enough to
come to the house at once?

At this, Viner excused himself to his guests and hurried round to Number
Seven, to find Miss Wickham and Mrs. Killenhall, now in mourning
garments, in company with a little man whom Viner at once recognized as a
well-known tradesman of Westbourne Grove--a florist and fruiterer named