At first there was nothing but meaningless scrawls and attempted words. Then rough sketches appeared, of a man's head, a chair or what not. On the mantelpiece stood a small clock--apparently a sort of humble presentation piece, the body of the clock being set in a horse-shoe frame, with crossed whips behind it. After a time the Frenchman's eyes fell on this, and he began a crude sketch of it. That he relinquished, and went on with other random sketches and scribblings on the same piece of paper, sketching and scribbling over the sketches in a half-mechanical sort of way, as of one who trifles with a pen during a brown study. Beginning at the top left-hand corner of the paper, he travelled all round it till he arrived at the left-hand bottom corner. Then dashing his pen hastily across his last sketch he dropped it, and with a great shudder turned away again and hid his face by the fireplace. Hewitt turned at once and seized the papers on the table. He stuffed them all into his coat-pocket, with the exception of the last which the man had been engaged on, and this, a facsimile of which is subjoined, he studied earnestly for several minutes. Hewitt wished the men good-day, and made his way to the inspector. "Well," the inspector said, "not much to be got out of him, is there? The doctor will be sending for him presently." [Illustration] "I fancy," said Hewitt, "that this may turn out a very important case. Possibly--quite possibly--I may not have guessed correctly, and so I won't tell you anything of it till I know a little more. But what I want now is a messenger. Can I send somebody at once in a cab to my friend Brett at his chambers?" "Certainly. I'll find somebody. Want to write a note?" Hewitt wrote and despatched a note, which reached me in less than ten minutes. Then he asked the inspector, "Have you searched the Frenchman?" "Oh, yes. We went all over him, when we found he couldn't explain himself, to see if we could trace his friends or his address. He didn't seem to mind. But there wasn't a single thing in his pocket--not a single thing, barring a rag of a pocket-handkerchief with no marking on it." "You noticed that somebody had stolen his watch, I suppose?" "Well, he hadn't got one." "But he had one of those little vertical button-holes in his waistcoat, used to fasten a watchguard to, and it was much worn and frayed, so that he must be in the habit of carrying a watch; and it is gone." "Yes, and everything else too, eh? Looks like robbery. He's had a knock or two in the face--notice that?" "I saw the bruises and the cut, of course; and his collar has been broken away, with the back button; somebody has taken him by the collar or throat. Was he wearing a hat when he was found?" "No." "That would imply that he had only just left a house. What street was he found in?" "Henry Street--a little off Golden Square. Low street, you know." "Did the constable notice a door open near by?"