"He knows I have betrayed him," said the doctor. "That is all. And for the moment he was no longer human. In this mood he will not stop to weigh risks or consequences. Before anything else we must find out where he is going—probably to his own flat, where we must watch him—possibly first to my house—ah! yes, for the metholycine. Thank God, that is harmless!"
There were no cabs about, so they started to walk northward in the direction Mr. Francis had taken. At the corner of Green Street they found a disengaged hansom, and drove to 32 Wimpole Street. Here the doctor got out.
"Drive on to his flat in Wigmore Street," he said to Geoffrey, "and ask the porter if he has come in. Then come back here."
Three minutes later Geoffrey returned.
"He came in a minute or two before me," he said. "He has kept his cab."
The doctor pointed to a row of bottles on a shelf in his cabinet.
"The metholycine is missing," he said. "He came here, where he is known to the servants, told the man he had instructions from me to take a certain bottle from my cases, and was allowed. I asked if he appeared in any way strange or excited. Not a bit of it; he had a smile and a joke as usual. Come on!"
"Where?" asked Geoffrey.
"To see where his cab goes. By the way, what of Lady Oxted?"
"She went on to catch her train. It is far better she should be with Harry. I told her I would telegraph all that happened."