“I do not think that I should place too great importance upon this incident,” he said. “Mr. Copperdock is a most excellent person, and I have the greatest respect for him. But I have often suspected that his visits to the Cambridge Arms have—shall I say, a pernicious effect upon the accuracy of his observations.” “He seemed a bit excited, certainly,” replied Whyland. “But he was quite positive that he had seen the man.” Mr. Ludgrove shook his head. “Now, this is strictly between ourselves, Inspector,” he said. “I make an invariable practice of taking a walk every evening, as soon as my clients give me the opportunity. This evening I went out soon after eight, and walked in the direction of Hyde Park. As it happened, I was returning past the Cambridge Arms, when I saw a figure which was unmistakably that of Mr. Copperdock leave the entrance of that house. I hastened my steps to overtake him, when suddenly he stopped, shouted, and after a moment or two, set off in the direction of Edgware Road. I could not imagine what was the matter, since but for us two the road was deserted as far as one could see for the mist. I was within twenty or thirty yards of him, and I certainly saw no black sailor.” It was Inspector Whyland’s turn to smile significantly. “It does not altogether surprise me to learn that Mr. Copperdock suffers from hallucinations,” he said. Chapter VIII At No. 407, Praed Street Although the unexplained murders which had taken place in Praed Street were soon forgotten by the general public, their shadow hung heavily over the neighbourhood in which they had been committed. The fact that the three deaths had taken place within comparatively few hundred yards of one another could not fail to have its effect upon the local imagination. A very noticeable change came over the usual cheerful and careless life of Praed Street. The evening pavements were no longer blocked by a strolling, noisy crowd. Women and children were rarely to be seen abroad after dark. Even men, traversing the street upon their lawful occasions, had a way of keeping close to the inner side of the pavements, and crossing the road upon the approach of any unfamiliar form. Christmas passed in this atmosphere of intangible fear; the old year died and the new year came in with a welcome spell of clear and frosty weather. But, in spite of the fact that no further tragedies occurred, the shadow still lay heavily upon the district. Ludgrove, listening to the whispered and entangled stories of his clients, became more and more certain that, even in the hidden depths of the underworld, there was no knowledge of the agency by which the crimes had been committed.