"Oh, certainly I will, with pleasure," I replied. The inspector having given some instructions to his men, the body of the murdered woman was covered with a table-cloth, and we went out leaving two constables in charge of the premises. Dawn was spreading now; the stars had disappeared, and there were some saffron tints in the east, heralding the sun's coming. At the corner of Montague Street the doctor wished us "good-morning," and strode away in an opposite direction, scarcely well pleased at being aroused from his bed and called out to witness so unpleasant a sight. CHAPTER THREE. WHAT THE WORLD SAID. A quarter of an hour later I was in the inspector's office at Tottenham Court Road Police-Station, relating to him all I knew of the horrible discovery. "You saw a man come out, you say? Are you certain of this?" the inspector asked, after I had concluded my story. "Quite; and, what's more, I saw his face." "Would you know him again?" he inquired, eyeing me keenly. "Certainly, I should." "Well, when you saw him, what did you do?" "I followed him. We ran for nearly five minutes without meeting a constable, and I subsequently lost sight of him in Gray's Inn Road." "For five minutes without meeting one of our men?" repeated the inspector, dubiously. "Yes. I shouted, but nobody came to my assistance," I replied, for I had not failed to notice the suspicion with which he regarded me. The inspector's brows contracted slightly as he took a slate from his desk, saying, "Give me his description as accurately as possible, please." I did so, and he wrote at my dictation. As soon as he had finished, he handed the slate to a sergeant, who at once went to the row of telegraph instruments and transmitted the description of the murderer to all the stations in the Metropolitan Police District. "And this was upon the body when you saw it?" exclaimed the officer, smoothing out the crumpled piece of paper before placing it upon the desk in front of him. I nodded an affirmative, and proceeded to describe the position of the paper as pinned upon the breast. "Hum! well, I think that's all," said he, when I had finished. "You say you live in Torrington Square. Ah! I have the number. And you spent the evening at the Junior Garrick Club--was that so?" "Yes." "At the inquest we shall want you as a witness; but you will get warning in due course. Good-morning." I left the station, and trudged homeward, full of thoughts of the horrible scene of which I had been an involuntary spectator. Truly the night had been an eventful one.