We went down to breakfast, and there I was afforded an opportunity of verifying the subtle likeness in Devlin's face to the portrait of Lemon on the wall, the evil-looking bird in its glass case, and the stone figure, half monster, half man, on the mantelshelf. "There is a likeness," said Devlin pleasantly, "between my works and me, and if you will attribute me with anything human, you can attribute it to a common human failing. It springs from the vanity and the weakness of man that he can evolve only that which is within himself. Nowhere is that vanity and weakness more conspicuous than in Genesis, in the very first chapter, my dear sir, where man himself has had the audacity to write that 'God created man in His own image.' My dear Mrs. Lemon, you have excelled yourself this morning. This rasher is perfect, and your cooking of these eggs to the infinitesimal part of a second is a marvel of art." Fanny did not open her lips to him, and the meal passed on in silence so far as she was concerned. I made a good breakfast, and Devlin expressed approval of my appetite. "It will strengthen you," he said, "for what is before you." Fanny looked up in alarm, and Devlin laughed. I may mention that the first thing I did when I came down-stairs was to run to the nearest newspaper shop and purchase copies of the morning papers. "Is there anything new concerning the murder?" asked Devlin. Fanny waited breathlessly for my reply. "Nothing," I said. "Have any arrests been made?" "None." "Of course," observed Devlin sarcastically, "the police are on the track of the murderer." "There is something to that effect in the papers." "Fudge!" said Devlin. Breakfast over, Devlin said he would go up to his room for a few minutes, and bade me be ready when he came down. Alone with Fanny, she asked me whether I would like to see Lemon, adding that it would do him "a power of good." "Is he any better?" I asked. "I really think he is," she replied. "What I told him last night about your taking up the case was a comfort to him--though he ain't easy in his mind about you. He is afraid that Devlin will get hold of you as he did of him." "He will not, Fanny. We shall get along famously together." She shook her head. I failed to convince her, as I failed to convince Mr. Lemon, that I should prove a match for their lodger. Lemon presented a ludicrous picture, sitting up in bed with an old-fashioned nightcap on. "Don't go with him, sir," he whispered, "to the Twisted Cow." "I shall go with him," I said, "wherever he proposes to take me." I could not help smiling at Lemon's expression of melancholy as I made this statement. He dared not give utterance to his fears of what my ultimate destination would be if I continued to keep company with Devlin. When that strange personage came down I was ready for him, and we went out together, Fanny looking after us from the street-door, shaking, I well knew, in her inward soul.