The events of these five days kept me in a positive ferment of curiosity.  In the first place an inspector of the Criminal Investigation Department came down and browsed about the place in company with the sergeant.  Then Mr. Bashfield, who was to conduct the prosecution, came and took up his abode at the “Cat and Chicken.”  But the most surprising visitor was Thorndyke’s laboratory assistant, Polton, who appeared one evening with a large trunk and a sailor’s hammock, and announced that he was going to take up his quarters in the loft.

As to Thorndyke himself, his proceedings were beyond speculation.  From time to time he made mysterious appearances at the windows of the loft, usually arrayed in what looked suspiciously like a nightshirt.  Sometimes I would see him holding a negative up to the light, at others manipulating a photographic printing-frame; and once I observed him with a paintbrush and a large gallipot; on which I turned away in despair, and nearly collided with the inspector.

“Dr. Thorndyke is staying with you, I hear,” said the latter, gazing earnestly at my colleague’s back, which was presented for his inspection at the window.

“Yes,” I answered.  “Those are his temporary premises.”

“That is where he does his bedevilments, I suppose?” the officer suggested.

“He conducts his experiments there,” I corrected haughtily.

“That’s what I mean,” said the inspector; and, as Thorndyke at this moment turned and opened the window, our visitor began to ascend the steps.

“I’ve just called to ask if I could have a few words with you, Doctor,” said the inspector, as he reached the door.

“Certainly,” Thorndyke replied blandly.  “If you will go down and wait with Dr. Jervis, I will be with you in five minutes.”

The officer came down the steps grinning, and I thought I heard him murmur “Sold!” But this may have been an illusion.  However, Thorndyke presently emerged, and he and the officer strode away into the shrubbery.  What the inspector’s business was, or whether he had any business at all, I never learned; but the incident seemed to throw some light on the presence of Polton and the sailor’s hammock.  And this reference to Polton reminds me of a very singular change that took place about this time in the habits of this usually staid and sedate little man; who, abandoning the somewhat clerical style of dress that he ordinarily affected, broke out into a semi-nautical costume, in which he would sally forth every morning in the direction of Port Marston.  And there, on more than one occasion, I saw him leaning against a post by the harbour, or lounging outside a waterside tavern in earnest and amicable conversation with sundry nautical characters.