If that were so, my escape would cause something like a panic among them, and would lead to their taking immediate steps to discover my whereabouts, and to put me out of the way. The first of these immediate steps would be to set a watch upon Grant's house; and to discover whether this was being done, must be my very first business. The fact that Grant's house was being watched--unless, of course, I could satisfy myself that the watching was being done by the police--would not only go far to prove the accuracy of my theory, but would also be the means of putting me upon the track of the Dumpling or of his accomplices. Naturally, I had to go to work very carefully. Were I, even if skilfully disguised, to do so much as walk twice, or even once, up the street in which Grant's house was situated, I should be in danger of attracting attention. Shadowing the house by concealing myself in dark doorways and lurking around corners, was quite out of the question, and the common plan of posing as a lodger, and hiring a room or rooms in an opposite or neighbouring house, would be equally impracticable. Even if I commissioned a friend to make the necessary inquiries, I should have to take possession of my lodgings--if suitable lodgings with a view of the street were found, which was by no means certain--more or less openly; and having once taken possession, I could not get in and out without attracting attention. Everyone who knows the West End of London is familiar with the somewhat shabby side streets which borrow gentility and grandeur from the fact that they are situated near, or off, a fashionable square, from which they take their name. Grant lived in Taunton Place, a modest little street consisting of two rows of small houses which abutted upon the many mansions of aristocratic Taunton Square. Driving through Taunton Place, sitting well back and out of sight in the recesses of a four-wheel cab, I observed an empty house on the opposite side of the way to Grant's, and almost at the corner where Taunton Place and Taunton Square converged. Waiting till night had set in, I burgled this empty house from the back, and began my watch. The result was in every way satisfactory. Grant's house was undoubtedly being watched, and by a man who, it was not difficult to see, was doing double duty. He was keeping a constant eye not only upon No. 10, Taunton Place, where Grant resided, but also upon a big, pretentious, bow-windowed and pillar-porticoed mansion known as No. 5, Taunton Square. Again and again I saw him pass the windows of the big house and look in; again and again I saw him watching, from his corner, everyone who called either at No. 10, Taunton Place, or at No. 5, Taunton Square.