his blindness.  There he was, conducting his action regardless of expense.  His apartments and his regal daily existence at the Grand Babylon alone cost a fabulous sum which may be precisely ascertained by reference to illustrated articles in the papers.  Then Mr. Oxford, the youngish Jew who had acquired Parfitts, who was Parfitts, also cut a picturesque figure on the face of London.  He, too, was spending money with both hands; for Parfitts itself was at stake.  Last and most disturbing, was the individual looming mysteriously in the background, the inexplicable man who lived in Werter Road, and whose identity would be decided by the judgment in the case of Witt v.  Parfitts.  If Witt won his action, then Parfitts might retire from business.  Mr. Oxford would probably go to prison for having sold goods on false pretences, and the name of Henry Leek, valet, would be added to the list of adventurous scoundrels who have pretended to be their masters.  But if Witt should lose—­then what a complication, and what further enigmas to be solved!  If Witt should lose, the national funeral of Priam Farll had been a fraudulent farce.  A common valet lay under the hallowed stones of the Abbey, and Europe had mourned in vain!  If Witt should lose, a gigantic and unprecedented swindle had been practised upon the nation.  Then the question would arise, Why?

Hence it was not surprising that popular interest, nourished by an indefatigable and excessively enterprising press, should have mounted till no one would have believed that it could mount any more.  But the evasion from Werter Road on that June morning intensified the interest enormously.  Of course, owing to the drawn blinds, it soon became known, and the bloodhounds of the Sunday papers were sniffing along the platforms of all the termini in London.  Priam’s departure greatly prejudiced the cause of Mr. Oxford, especially when the bloodhounds failed and Priam persisted in his invisibility.  If a man was an honest man, why should he flee the public gaze, and in the night?  There was but a step from the posing of this question to the inevitable inference that Mr. Oxford’s line of defence was really too fantastic for credence.  Certainly organs of vast circulation, while repeating that, as the action was sub judice, they could say nothing about it, had already tried the action several times in their impartial columns, and they now tried it again, with the entire public as jury.  And in three days Priam had definitely become a criminal in the public eye, a criminal flying from justice.  Useless to assert that he was simply a witness subpoenaed to give evidence at the trial!  He had transgressed the unwritten law of the English constitution that a person prominent in a cause celebre belongs for the time being, not to himself, but to the nation at large.  He had no claim to privacy.  In surreptitiously obtaining seclusion he was merely robbing the public and the public’s press of their inalienable right.