By this time Lessing had reached the end of the cross-road, at which was situated an eating-house of a rough and unsavoury appearance. As he approached the door it opened, and a group of men streamed into the street, talking together in some eager unintelligible patois, at the sound of which a shiver of impending danger shot through Lessing's veins. Instinctively he averted his head, and quickened his pace, but instinct was a true prophet, it projected the coming event upon his brain, so that he knew what was before him, before the dark, bearded face glared into his, and the thick voice hissed the eloquent word into his ear: "_Traitor_!" Lessing did not stop to think. He was one to six, and escape was the necessity of the moment. He took to his heels, ran at full speed until the narrow lane was left behind, and the lights of Trafalgar Square shone around him, when following his first impulse he leaped into a taxi, and told the man to drive to Oxford Circus. He had behaved like a fool, and like a fool he had been trapped, but the game was not yet up. His identity was unknown, and by avoiding the neighbourhood of the restaurant he could with ease cut himself off from all likelihood of encountering the Brethren. Lessing's blood tingled in his veins, his whole being was flooded with exhilaration. Here was life, here was excitement, here, at long last, within the confines of the grey city itself, was the thrill of pursuit! For they would be after him, following him no doubt in one of the numerous cars blocking the roads, with intent to track him to his lair, but Lessing laughed at the thought with glad youthful confidence. He was not to be caught twice over. He would give them a run--such a run as they had not known for many a long day, but he would slip them in the end! It was two hours later when Lessing let himself into his rooms, but he entered with the smiling face of the man who wins; and in good truth he had reason to be proud. He had dodged, he had evaded, he had doubled back on his own tracks with an almost incredible celerity. He had left crowded Tube carriages, lost himself in the crowd on the platform, and jumped back into the same carriage, the last passenger to enter before the door was closed. He had changed from taxi to train, from train to taxi, and once, finding himself in a stationary block, had deposited half a crown on the seat of his own car, stepped deftly on to an adjacent "island," and opening the door of an empty growler, hunched himself up on the floor, and remained concealed until it suited his convenience to descend. Oh! he had been swift, he had been cunning; always he had acted on the assumption that the pursuer was at hand; never for one moment had he relaxed guard, or allowed himself to slow down. Now he was tired, dog tired, but with a glorious fatigue. Not for the world would he have foregone one incident of that most thrilling dash!