At the post-office I found my wife's telegram awaiting me. It was to the effect that there was nothing new in the papers concerning the murder. The criminal was still at large, and the police appeared to have failed in obtaining a clue. I despatched Carton's telegram to the London bank, and then we proceeded to Athelstan Road, and soon found the house we were in search of. I had decided upon my plan of operations: Devlin was not to appear; he was to stand at some distance from the house, and only to come forward if I called him. I was to knock and inquire for Mr. Dowsett, and explain to him that, not feeling well, I had run down to Margate for the day. Carton had given me his guardian's address, and had asked me to inquire whether Mr. Dowsett would be absent from London for any length of time, intending, if such was the case, to join Mr. Dowsett and his family in the country. Then I was to trust to chance and to anything I observed how next to proceed. The whole invention was as lame as well could be, but I could not think of a better. It was only when decided action was necessary that I felt how powerless I was. All that I had to depend upon was a slender and mysterious thread of conjecture. I knocked at the door, and of the servant who opened it I inquired if Mr. Dowsett was up yet. "O, yes, sir," replied the girl. "Up and gone, all of 'em." "Up and gone, all of them!" I exclaimed. "Yes, sir. Had breakfast at half-past six, and went away directly afterwards." "Do you know where to?" "No, sir. O, here's missus." The landlady came forward. "Do you want rooms, sir?" "Not at present. I came to see Mr. Dowsett." "Gone away, sir; him and the three ladies." "So your servant informed me; but I thought I should be certain to find him here. Stop. What did you say? Mr. Dowsett and the three ladies? You mean the two ladies?" "I mean three," said the landlady, looking sharply at me. "They only came on Saturday; Mr. Dowsett came yesterday. You must excuse me, sir; there's the dining-room bell and the drawing-room bell ringing all together." "A moment, I beg," I said, slipping half-a-crown into her hand. "Do you know where they have gone to?" "No; they didn't tell me. They were in a hurry to catch a train; but I don't know what train, and don't know where to." Her manner proclaimed that she not only did not know, but did not care. "They had some boxes with them?" I said. "Yes, two. I can't wait another minute. I never did see such a impatient gentleman as the dining-rooms." "Only one more question," I said, forcibly detaining her. "Did they drive to the station?" "Yes; they had a carriage. Please let me go, sir." "Do you know the man who drove them? Do you know the number of the carriage?" "Haven't the slightest idea," said the landlady; and, freeing herself from my grasp, she ran down to her kitchen.