I was now afflicted with the doubt whether I had acted wisely in adopting a policy of concealment. It is in the nature of such a labyrinth of circumstance as that in which I was wandering never to be sure of the road, to be ever in doubt whether the right track has not been hopelessly missed. There are no sadder reflections than those inspired by what is and what might have been. Lost moments--lost opportunities--if I had done this, if I had done that! So do we torture ourselves when the fatal issue is before us. But I had chosen my course, and it was now too late to retrace my steps. I deemed it fortunate that in my cable messages to Ellen and my solicitor I had not stated the name of the vessel by which I had taken passage home, my intention having been to give my dear one a delightful surprise. I had time for further deliberation, to more fully mature my plans. It would be necessary that my lawyer should be made acquainted with the facts of my arrival, but I need not communicate with him for a few day. My present concern was to learn from the newspapers of the discovery of Louis' body, and what was said about it. In the afternoon I went out and bought copies of the evening papers, taking care to show myself only in those thoroughfares where I deemed myself safe. The leading principle of all my movements at this period was caution, and I did not lose sight of it even in so trifling a matter as the purchase of a few newspapers. I evinced no anxiety to read them, but put them into my pocket with assumed carelessness, as though I were not interested in their contents. Two or three times I fancied that I was being followed, and I put it to the test, and satisfied myself that my fears had misled me. Returning to the hotel, I looked through the papers in the solitude of my room, without meeting with any reference to a Liverpool tragedy. Neither in the papers of the following day was any allusion made to it. I put the true construction upon this silence. The house in which I had left Louis' body was practically untenanted, and no indication of anything unusual had been found in the street. But it would have been folly on my part to suppose that the murder could remain forever undiscovered. The suspense was dreadful. So several days passed by. I removed from the hotel, and took apartments in the north of London. From that address I wrote to my solicitor, requesting him to call upon me in the evening, and asking him to say nothing of my return home. At the appointed hour we were closeted together.