From the New Prison Richard proceeded to Saint Giles's, and knocked at the door of the Public Executioner's abode. But his summons remained unanswered. He repeated it again: all was silent within. At length a neighbour,—a man who kept a coal and potato shed,—emerged from his shop, and volunteered some information concerning the hangman and his son. "It's no use knocking and knocking there, sir," said the man: "Smithers and his lad left London early yesterday morning for some place in the north of Ireland—I don't know the name—but where there's some work in his partickler line. The postman brought Smithers a letter, asking him to start off without delay; and he did so. He took Gibbet with him to give him another chance, he said, of trying his hand. Smithers told me all this before he went away, and asked me to take in any letters that might come for him, or answer any one that called. That's how I came to know all this." "Do you happen to be aware when he will return?" asked Richard. "I've no more idea than that there tater," answered the man, indicating with his foot a specimen of the vegetable alluded to. Richard thanked the man for the information which he had been enabled to give, and then pursued his way towards the chief police station in the neighbourhood. Arrived at that establishment, he inquired for Morris Benstead. The officer happened to be on the premises at the moment. Markham led him to a short distance, and then addressed him as follows:— "You have doubtless heard of the extraordinary position in which poor Katherine Wilmot is placed. I, for one, firmly believe her to be innocent." "So do I, sir," exclaimed the officer, emphatically. "Then you will prove the more useful to my purposes in consequence of that impression," said Richard. "When I saw you on a former occasion, you offered me your services if ever I should require them. Little did I then suppose that I should so soon need your aid. Are you willing to assist me in investigating this most mysterious affair?" "With pleasure, sir—with the sincerest pleasure," answered Benstead. "You know the respect I entertain for Miss Kate." "And I know your goodness of heart," said our hero. "You must then aid me in collecting proofs of her innocence. Spare no expense in your task: hesitate not to apply to me for any money that you may need. Here are ten pounds for immediate purposes. To-morrow I will let you know whom I shall decide upon employing to conduct the poor girl's defence; and you can then communicate direct with the solicitor and barrister retained. Are you willing to undertake this task?" "Need you ask me, sir?" cried the policeman. "I would do any thing to serve Miss Kate."