In the first place, he noted that the absence of Louis from town on that night was deposed to by Binjoy; in the same way Louis said that Binjoy had not left Taxton-on-Thames for six weeks. Both these statements had been made to Fanks by Vaud. It would then appear that Louis and the doctor were in collusion to obtain the property of Gregory by procuring his death at the hands of the negro. But even this theory failed to discover, or point out, who was the man who had called to leave the parcel at Half Moon Street. The constable had asserted positively that no negro had gone up the stairs. If then the messenger was not the negro, it was either Binjoy or Sir Louis. Mr. Vaud said that the one was ill, the other in attendance. Thus the case stood when Fanks left the office of Vaud and Vaud; and he felt utterly unable to cope with the intricacies which met him on every hand. There seemed no way in or out. Yet in the face of the presumption that Renshaw was not the double of Binjoy, the detective determined to follow up that clue. He did not like the way in which the doctor had behaved, either in the chamber of death, or at the inquest; he was suspicious of his apparent intimacy with Mrs. Boazoph: therefore, for his own gratification, he went to Great Auk Street to interview the man, and to see whether his suspicions had any foundation in fact. On arriving at the house he was unable to decide on his next action, but before he left it again he had determined what to do. A stupid-looking man-servant received Fanks, and took him into a dull waiting room, while he went to inform Dr. Renshaw of the name of his visitor. In a few moments he returned and conducted the detective to the back of the house, where he found Renshaw waiting for him in the company of another man. This latter was Dr. Turnor, for whom Renshaw had been acting as "locum tenens;" a lean, little man with a ferret of a face, and a sharp, jerky way of speaking which must have been exceedingly irritating in a sickroom. Renshaw was more imposing in looks than ever, and, with habitual restlessness, combed his long, brown beard with his fingers; but in the badly-lighted room Fanks could not find out if the beard was false. So closely did Renshaw resemble Garth's description of Binjoy, that notwithstanding Vaud's evidence, Fanks was on the alert to discover if--as he truly believed--the two were one and the same. The ensuing conversation was likely to prove interesting in more ways than one. After being introduced to Fanks, and acknowledging the introduction with a sour smile, Turnor arose to leave the room. He was stopped by Renshaw, who evidently did not relish the idea of facing a difficult interview by himself. Another proof, as Fanks considered, of his uneasy conscience. "Pray do not depart, Turnor," he said, in his usual pompous manner. "I have no secrets from you. I trust, Mr. Fanks, that you see no objection in my adopting this course?"