It was--a sergeant and an ordinary constable, decent fellows, honest fellows, conscientious fellows, both of them, but not, I imagine, overburdened either of them with brains. Plainly they did not associate the attempt to enter the house with the murder. The impression they gave was that they thought a mere alarm of burglary very small beer when compared with an actual murder. Miss Clara told them that while she and I were talking, we heard the sound of falling glass below, that I had gone down and had seen a man's face at a broken window. She explained the circumstances which prevented me from following him, and added that I believed the face to be that of a man respecting whom I had laid information at Scotland Yard that very morning. The sergeant and the constable listened to Miss Clara's statement without excitement, and when she had made an end of it expressed a wish to see the conservatory, the broken window and the garden, made a few notes, took my name and address, accepted readily the glass of whisky and water which Miss Clara suggested, but declined with equal readiness the half-crown which the same lady, by way of compensation for the trouble to which she had put them, endeavoured to press into their hands, and remarking that they had done no more than their duty, wished us good-night and so departed. Then I turned to my hostess and unfolded my own plans. "To tell the honest truth, Miss Carleton," I said, "I was not at all anxious to be mixed up in this new development. I shall have more than enough advertisement at the inquest, which is to be held to-morrow, on the three bodies found off Canvey, and if I am called as a witness at the inquest which will have to be held on the body of young Grant--the police and the public will begin to think my connection with both murders somewhat suspicious. If I were to have followed my inclinations I should have pretended that I was anxious to learn more of the circumstances of young Grant's murder, and should have asked you to let me slip out to see if I could pick up any news, so as to be out of the way when the police called. But a murder, a brutal murder, has been committed, and though I am still smarting from the undeserved snubbing I received when I called at Scotland Yard this morning, I should feel that I was behaving not only like a bad citizen, but as little less than a criminal, were I to keep back anything which would assist the police in their search. And now, may I get on to something else which I very much wish to say? The fact that the face I saw at the broken window was that of the Dumpling, is to me very significant. It is, you must admit, a strong confirmation of the theories I have formed, and of which I have already told you. Why did I watch Grant's house? Because if the Dumpling believed Grant to be alive, I was tolerably sure he would lose no time in putting Grant out of the way. What was the result of my watching? This--that I found someone was watching Grant's house,