“’"That’s Mr. Skinner,” said Mary.  “So it is,” I said, “why, I thought he had gone an hour ago.”  “He did go out then,” said Mary, “for he left his bedroom door open and I went in to do his bed and tidy his room.”  “Just go and see if that’s him, Mary,” I said, and Mary ran up to the hall and up the stairs, and came back to tell me that that was Mr. Skinner all right enough; he had gone straight up to his room.  Mary didn’t see him, but he had another gentleman with him, as she could hear them talking in Mr. Skinner’s room.’

“’Then you can’t tell us at what time the prisoner left the house finally?’

“’No, that I can’t.  I went out shopping soon after that.  When I came in it was twelve o’clock.  I went up to the third floor and found that Mr. Skinner had locked his door and taken the key with him.  As I knew Mary had already done, the room I did not trouble more about it, though I did think it strange for a gentleman to look up his room and not leave the key with me.’

“‘And, of course, you heard no noise of any kind in the room then?’

“’No.  Not that day or the next, but on the third day Mary and I both thought we heard a funny sound.  I said that Mr. Skinner had left his window open, and it was the blind flapping against the window-pane; but when we heard that funny noise again I put my ear to the keyhole and I thought I could hear a groan.  I was very frightened, and sent Mary for the police.’

“Mrs. Chapman had nothing more of interest to say.  The prisoner certainly was her lodger.  She had last seen him on the evening of the 16th going up to his room with his candle.  Mary the servant had much the same story to relate as her mistress.

“’I think it was ‘im, right enough,’ said Mary guardedly.  ’I didn’t see ’im, but I went up to ’is landing and stopped a moment outside ’is door.  I could ‘ear loud voices in the room—­gentlemen talking.’

“‘I suppose you would not do such a thing as to listen, Mary?’ queried Mr. Pepys with a smile.

“‘No, sir,’ said Mary with a bland smile, ’I didn’t catch what the gentlemen said, but one of them spoke so loud I thought they must be quarrelling.’

“’Mr. Skinner was the only person in possession of a latch-key, I presume.  No one else could have come in without ringing at the door?’

“‘Oh no, sir.’

“That was all.  So far, you see, the case was progressing splendidly for the Crown against the prisoner.  The contention, of course, was that Skinner had met Mr. Morton, brought him home with him, assaulted, drugged, then gagged and bound him, and finally robbed him of whatever money he had in his possession, which, according to certain affidavits which presently would be placed before the magistrate, amounted to L10,000 in notes.

“But in all this there still remained the great element of mystery for which the public and the magistrate would demand an explanation:  namely, what were the relationships between Mr. Morton and Skinner, which had induced the former to refuse the prosecution of the man who had not only robbed him, but had so nearly succeeded in leaving him to die a terrible and lingering death?