The short, bald-headed man shrugged his shoulders dubiously, whereat, in order not to go contrary to his opinion, I turned our conversation into a different channel. I had already learned much of interest, but much, too, that had caused me a twinge of despair. We spoke of other things, and apparently impressed by the fact that I was eager to meet Greer, he invited me to wait until he and Kirk arrived. "But they may not be coming, after all," I said. "They may have changed their minds." "I think that hardly probable," Sir Mark replied. "They have been delayed, though I've ascertained that they left Birmingham to come direct here." I told him nothing of my visit to Alderman Pooley, but my only fear was that, with the report of the bogus Professor's speech appearing in the papers, the impostor had become alarmed and again made himself scarce. To me it appeared much as though he and his accomplices had never intended the announcement to get into the papers. Indeed, even Sir Mark had expressed himself surprised at reading the report, understanding that the meeting was a purely private one of the learned society which had invited him to lecture. I smoked a cigar with the affable little man, and then he left me, being called to the telephone. When he re-entered the room, he said: "I've been speaking to the Professor. It seems that he's at home, at his house in London. He was recalled suddenly by telegram, and not having been home since his return from the Continent he was compelled to obey the summons. He promises to come here next Monday." My heart sank once more within me. The truth was just as I had feared! The report of his speech in the papers had alarmed him, and he was no doubt on his way abroad again, having netted a goodly sum from Messrs. Edwards and Sutton for a secret filched from the unfortunate man who had been assassinated. "Then I'll go back to London at once," I announced; and, without betraying my anxiety to my bald-headed friend, who had been so cleverly victimised, I bade him adieu, and an hour later left Bulwell for London. In the grey March afternoon I alighted from a hansom before that well-remembered door of the Professor's house in Sussex Place. I did not for one moment believe him to be there. He had, of course, escaped long ago. In Edinburgh and in Glasgow I had been close at his heels, as I had also been in Birmingham, yet he had always cleverly evaded me. To my amazement my ring was answered by Antonio--sleek, smiling, yet as evil-faced as ever! "Is your master at home?" I asked sharply, for I certainly had not expected to meet the man who had escaped to Italy, and who had afterwards threatened me. "No, signore," was his bland reply. "He is out at present." "Then he--he's at home again?" "Yes, signore. He returned unexpectedly yesterday." "And Miss Ethelwynn?" "The signorina is still at Broadstairs; we expect her up to-morrow."