He heard no more footsteps, but looking round he thought he saw a man walking on the grass by the side of the path. As Jack stopped he too halted. He was doubtful as to what he should do. To challenge the man might put him into an absurd position; there was no reason in the world why any good citizen should not walk in the park at night, or, for the matter of that, why they should not walk behind him anywhere at a respectable distance. And then ahead of him he made out a slowly strolling figure, and heard the unmistakable “beat walk” of a policeman. To his own amazement he felt relieved, and when he looked round, the figure that had followed him had disappeared. He tried to reconstruct his impression; whoever his tracker had been, he was smally made. At first Jack had thought it was a boy; perhaps some poor park beggar who was mustering up courage to approach him for the price of a night’s bed. It seemed absurd that he was glad to be out of the park, and to step into the well-lighted street, but it was the case. He made an inquiry of a policeman. “Stamford Avenue, sir? That bus you see over there will take you, or you can get there in a taxi in ten minutes.” Jack stood for a long time before he called the taxi-cab. Mr. Parr would rightly resent this intrusion into his domestic privacy, and really he had no excuse to offer. But making up his mind of a sudden, he called a cab, and in a very short time was experiencing exactly the same doubts and misgivings before the door of Inspector Parr’s maisonette. It was Parr himself who opened the door. His face was naturally free from expression, and he neither showed surprise nor annoyance at the arrival of his late visitor. “Come in, Mr. Beardmore,” he said. “I have just arrived, and am having supper. I suppose you’ve had your evening meal a long time ago.” “Don’t let me interrupt you, Mr. Parr, only I was rather interested to hear that you had caught Brabazon, and I thought I’d come along.” The inspector was showing him into the dining-room, when suddenly he stopped. “Good Lord!” he said. Jack could only wonder what had startled him. “Do you mind waiting here?” For the first time since Jack had known the police officer, Parr was embarrassed. “I must first tell an old aunt of mine who is staying here who you are,” he said. “She’s not used to visitors. I’m a widower, you know, and my aunt keeps house for me.” He entered the dining-room hurriedly, closing the door behind him, and Jack felt something of his host’s embarrassment. A minute, two minutes passed. He heard a hurried movement in the room, and Parr opened the door. “Come in, sir.” His red face was even a deeper red. “Sit you down, and please forgive me for keeping you waiting.” The room in which he found himself was well and tastefully furnished. Jack was annoyed with himself for expecting anything else.