"I wonder if he knows anything about this affair," thought Gorby to himself "Where is Mr. Moreland to be found?" he asked. "Not knowin', can't tell," retorted the landlady, "'e used to be 'ere reg'lar, but I ain't seen 'im for over a week." "Strange! very!" said Gorby, shaking his head. "I should like to see this Mr. Moreland. I suppose it's probable he'll call again?" "'Abit bein' second nature I s'pose he will," answered the woman, "'e might call at any time, mostly 'avin' called at night." "Ah! then I'll come down this evening on chance of seeing him," replied the detective. "Coincidences happen in real life as well as in novels, and the gentleman in question may turn up in the nick of time. Now, what else about Mr. Whyte?" "About two weeks ago, or three, I'm not cert'in which, a gentleman called to see Mr. Whyte; 'e was very tall, and wore a light coat." "Ah! a morning coat?" "No! 'e was in evenin' dress, and wore a light coat over it, an' a soft 'at." "The very man," said the detective below his breath; "go on." "He went into Mr. Whyte's room, an' shut the door. I don't know how long they were talkin' together; but I was sittin' in this very room and heard their voices git angry, and they were a-swearin' at one another, which is the way with men, the brutes. I got up and went into the passage in order to ask 'em not to make such a noise, when Mr. Whyte's door opens, an' the gentleman in the light coat comes out, and bangs along to the door. Mr. Whyte 'e comes to the door of 'is room, an' 'e 'ollers out. 'She is mine; you can't do anything; an' the other turns with 'is 'and on the door an' says, 'I can kill you, an' if you marry 'er I'll do it, even in the open street.'" "Ah!" said Mr. Gorby, drawing a long breath, "and then?" "Then he bangs the door to, which it's never shut easy since, an' I ain't got no money to get it put right, an' Mr. Whyte walks back to his room, laughing." "Did he make any remark to you?" "No; except he'd been worried by a loonatic." "And what was the stranger's name?" "That I can't tell you, as Mr. Whyte never told me. He was very tall, with a fair moustache, an' dressed as I told you." Mr. Gorby was satisfied. "That is the man," he said to himself, "who got into the hansom cab, and murdered Whyte; there's no doubt of it! Whyte and he were rivals for the heiress." "What d'y think of it?" said Mrs. Hableton curiously. "I think," said Mr. Gorby slowly, with his eyes fixed on her, "I think that there is a woman at the bottom of this crime." CHAPTER VI. MR. GORBY MAKES FURTHER DISCOVERIES.