"What do you mean?" "'Twas this way, sir. The carrots cove comes 'ere, an' sez: 'A man'--you, sir--''e's follerin' me. I'll give y' five bob to let me pass through yer keb an' down thet there lane. Then,' sez he, 'jes y' drive orf an' drive back, an' y' can pick me up and taike me 'ome.' So while I was talking the blannkit orf he whips in at one door, an' out of t'other, and down thet lane like mad. I drives orf, an' larfs when I sees you was follerin'. So 'ere I am back agin t' pick 'im up; but I don't see the bloomin' cove," concluded Henry, with a glance round. It was with great amazement that Darrel listened to the story of the cabman. Strange indeed must have been the errand of the red-haired man to Mortality-lane, when he was so suspicious of a stranger and took such elaborate precautions against discovery. The word discovery no sooner flashed into Darrel's brain than he repeated it aloud. Discovery of what? With, perhaps, unpardonable curiosity, Frank made up his mind to acquaint himself with the reason of the man's strange conduct. "Well," said he in reply to Henry, "I'll wait here with you until this man reappears." "Y'll wait by yerself, then," said Henry, getting on his box. "It's past one o'clock, an', fare or no fare, I ain't a-goin to stay all night." When he drove off Darrel was left alone with the other cabman, and turned towards him in some perplexity. "Are you going too?" he asked. "Yes, sir. Moy missus'll be expecting me," replied the man; "But," he added, taking down one of the cab lamps, "If y' think the gent's in that lane I'll go down with yer, an' look him up. Then I can drive y' both t' Bow-street." With great alacrity Frank assented to this, and they went down the middle of the lane. As the gas lamps were few, the cabman flashed the light he carried from right to left. Mortality-lane is not very long, and they were soon close to the end where it opens into Lincoln's Inn Fields. Here the cabman uttered an oath as he stumbled over a body. Darrel looked, and, in the circle of the light cast by the carriage candle, beheld the red-haired man stone dead, with an ugly wound over the heart. CHAPTER II THE BLONDE LADY On Monday morning Darrel lingered over his breakfast, considering the woful issue of his Saturday night's adventure. The alarm having been given by Bike, the cabman, the police had taken charge of the body and of the case and had requested Darrel to hold himself in readiness to be called as a witness. But the novelist, although willing to give evidence, wished to take a more active part in the matter. He desired to learn the motive for the crime, to discover the criminal, and ascertain by what means the murdered man had been lured to his death in Mortality-lane. In a word, Darrel wanted to change from spectator into actor, and to turn detective for the unriddling of this extraordinary enigma. To him the experience as he conceived, would be a liberal education in literary work.