The Case of Janissary | Page 9

you on your haul, and wish
you a merry evening." And the two men parted.
Dorrington had, indeed, a few pounds to draw as a result of his
"fishing" bet with Naylor, but now he resolved to ask for the money at
his own time. This invitation to Telfer took his attention, and it
reminded him oddly of the circumstances detailed in the report of the
inquest on Lawrence, transcribed at the beginning of this paper. He had
cut out this report at the time it appeared, because he saw certain
singularities about the case, and he had filed it, as he had done hundred
of other such cuttings. And now certain things led him to fancy that he
might be much interested to observe the proceedings at Naylor's house
on the evening after a bad settling-day. He resolved to gratify himself
with a strict professional watch in Gold Street that evening, on chance
of something coming of it. For it was an important thing in
Dorrington's rascally trade to get hold of as much of other people's
private business as possible, and to know exactly in what cupboard to
find every man's skeleton. For there was no knowing but it might be
turned into money sooner or later. So he found the number of Naylor's
house from the handiest directory, and at six o'clock, a little disguised
by a humbler style of dress than usual, he began his watch.
Naylor's house was at the corner of a turning, with the flank wall blank
of windows, except for one at the top; and a public-house stood at the

opposite corner. Dorrington, skilled in watching without attracting
attention to himself, now lounged in the public-house bar, now stood at
the street corner, and now sauntered along the street, a picture of
vacancy of mind, and looking, apparently, at everything in turn, except
the house at the corner. The first thing he noted was the issuing forth
from the area steps of a healthy-looking girl in much gaily beribboned
finery. Plainly a servant taking an evening out. This was an odd thing,
that I servant should be allowed out on an evening when a guest was
expected to dinner; and the house looked like one where it was more
likely that one servant would be kept than two. Dorrington hurried after
the girl, and, changing his manner of address, to that of a civil labourer,
said --
"Beg pardon, Miss, but is Mary Walker still in service at your 'ouse?"
"Mary Walker?" said the girl. "Why, no. I never 'eard the name. And
there ain't nobody in service there but me."
"Beg pardon -- it must be the wrong 'ouse. It's my cousin, Miss, that's
all."
Dorrington left the girl and returned to the public-house. As he reached
it he perceived a second noticeable thing. Although it was broad
daylight, there was now a light behind the solitary window at the top of
the side-wall of Naylor's house. Dorrington slipped through the
swing-doors of the public-house and watched through the glass.
It was a bare room behind the high window -- it might have been a
bathroom -- and its interior was made but dimly visible from outside by
the light. A tall, thin woman was setting up an ordinary pair of
house-steps in the middle of the room. This done, she turned to the
window and pulled down the blind, and as she did so Dorrington noted
her very extreme thinness, both of face and body. When the blind was
down the light still remained within. Again there seemed some
significance in this. It appeared that the thin woman had waited until
her servant had gone before doing whatever she had to do in that room.
Presently the watcher came again into Gold Street, and from there
caught a passing glimpse of the thin woman as she moved busily about

the front room over the breakfast parlour.
Clearly, then, the light above had been left for future use. Dorrington
thought for a minute, and then suddenly stopped, with a snap of the
fingers. He saw it all now. Here was something altogether in his way.
He would take a daring course.
He withdrew once more to the public-house, and ordering another drink,
took up a position in a compartment from which he could command a
view both of Gold Street and the side turning. The time now, he saw by
his watch, was ten minutes to seven. He had to wait rather more than a
quarter of an hour before seeing Richard Telfer come walking jauntily
down Gold Street, mount the steps, and knock at Naylor's door. There
was a momentary glimpse of the thin woman's face at the door, and
then Telfer entered.
It now began to grow dusk, and in about