Meanwhile Jack had returned to the back of the Hall. So far as he could recollect, Padini was down on the programme for no further item that afternoon, therefore it was only a matter of waiting till the violinist emerged, and following him to his destination. But Jack had succeeded in consuming three cigarettes without any sign of the artist rewarding his patience. Taking half-a-crown from his pocket, he crossed the road and proceeded to interview the stage-door keeper.
"Oh, that foreign-looking chap, is it?" the stage-door guardian said. "Signor Somebody or other who plays the fiddle. Why, he's been gone the last ten minutes."
"Gone!" Jack exclaimed, with palpable dismay. "Why, I have been watching most carefully for him the last half-hour. Was he wrapped up or shawled in any way?"
Whilst Jack still stood arguing there a slim young man, with fair moustache turned upwards à la German Emperor, passed and repassed him hurriedly. The stranger passed into a smartly appointed hansom and vanished.
"Well, there's your man," the doorkeeper exclaimed. "He must have forgotten something and returned for it."
Jack muttered his thanks, parted with his half-crown, and went into the roadway thoroughly puzzled. He could not for a moment doubt the word of the doorkeeper, who was naturally an expert in a recognition of faces. As a matter of fact, the man with the turned-up moustache was the same individual who had been so mysteriously concealed in Panton Square, and who had afterwards accompanied the deaf-mute girl to Mr. Carrington's. On the stage Padini had appeared as a slight, slim man, whose face was absolutely devoid of hair.
Jack stood thoughtfully in the middle of the road, wondering what to do next. His first idea was to go at once and look up Rigby. He must have been standing there a great deal longer than he had imagined, for presently he saw the smart hansom return and take its place on the rank. Here was a slice of luck indeed. Jack crossed over and hailed the hansom.
"Here, I want you to drive me to the office of the Planet," he said. "I suppose you know where that is. Do you want to earn an extra half-sovereign?"
"That's the way I was educated," said the cabman, with a grin. "Oh, my last fare, is it? Well, I can easily answer that question. Gent with the cocked-up moustache. I have just driven him to 5, Panton Square."
Jack stepped into the hansom, feeling that luck was entirely on his side. He knew now that he was on the track of something more than mere coincidence. For 5, Panton Square was no less a place than the residence of Spencer Anstruther, Claire's guardian. Here was proof positive that Padini, the violinist, a perfect stranger to London, was at any rate on terms of friendship with Anstruther. There was nothing for it now but to seek out Rigby and tell him all that had happened without delay. Rigby was found in his room at the Planet office, mournfully drawing skeletons on a sheet of blotting-paper. He nodded thoughtfully as Jack came in; then, catching sight of the latter's eager face, asked what was in the wind.