As I was now almost opposite my club, I decided to drop in there before going in search of McGorry. There were hardly any people about, and when I entered the reading-room I found that it contained but one other person besides myself. The man was very intent upon his paper, but as I approached he raised his head, and I at once recognised Mr. Stuart. The very person, of all others, I most wanted to see. Fate was certainly in a kindly mood to-day, and I determined it should not be my fault if I did not make the most of the opportunity thus unexpectedly afforded me. So when I caught his eye I bowed, and walked boldly up to him. He answered my salutation politely, but coldly, and appeared anxious to return to his reading; but I was too full of my purpose to be put off by anything. I said: "Mr. Stuart, you have quite forgotten me, which is not at all surprising, as I only met you once before, and that time was not introduced to you." He smiled distantly, and looked inquiringly at me through his single eye-glass. "It was last Thursday at the Rosemere," I explained. He appeared startled. I think the idea of my being a detective suggested itself to him, so I continued, reassuringly: "My name is Fortescue, and I am a doctor. My office is _vis-à-vis_ to your building, so, probably on account of my proximity, I was called in to see the victim, and have naturally become much interested in this very mysterious affair." "Indeed!" he remarked. This was not encouraging, but I persisted. "A very remarkable case, isn't it?" I said, trying to appear at ease. "A most unpleasant business," he replied curtly. My obstinacy was now aroused, so I drew a chair up and sat down. "Mr. Stuart, I hope you won't think me very impertinent if I ask you whether you have any reason to be dissatisfied with your two servants?" He now looked thoroughly alarmed. "No; why do you ask?" "You probably know that the identity of the dead man has never been established?" I continued. "On the contrary," interrupted Mr. Stuart, "I am just reading an account of how it has been ascertained that the body is that of a man called Greywood." "Oh," I replied airily, "that is only a bit of yellow journalism. If you read to the end, you will find that they admit that the police place no credence in their story. I have just been talking to Mr. Merritt about it----" "Merritt, the detective, you mean?" "Yes," I answered. "Well, he must be an interesting man. I should like to see him." "Why, you have seen him," I said; "he was the short, clean-shaven man who stood beside me, and afterwards followed you out." "Really!" he exclaimed; "I wish I had known that; I have always taken a great interest in the man. He has cleared up some pretty mysterious crimes." "I am sure he would be only too delighted to meet you. He's quite a nice fellow, too, and terribly keen about this murder," I added, bringing the conversation back to the point I wanted discussed.