"He will come back right enough," answered the detective drowsily as he laid his head again upon the pillow.
"But," said Mrs. Kenly, and then paused. Her husband's eyes had closed. His mouth was slightly open. In another few seconds an unmistakable snore made itself heard. Mrs. Kenly drew the blinds and noiselessly withdrew downstairs. She was excited, but not too excited to neglect her ordinary duties.
The hours passed slowly. When ten and eleven had gone without any sign of Jessel she began to be alarmed. Still he had said he might not be back until midnight. At half past eleven she aroused her husband, thoughtfully taking with her a cup of tea. He was sleeping so soundly that she was compelled to shake him before he could be aroused. She had just succeeded when the sound of a cab drawing up in the street outside the garden gate arrested her attention. Kenly heard it too, and sprang out of bed.
"Keep him talking until I come down," he said.
The next minute the modest knock at the door announced Jessel's arrival, and Mrs. Kenly hurried downstairs to let him in.
"Half afraid I should have found you all in bed," he said as he entered. "You don't mind leaving the door open while I fetch my bags?"
By the time he had made two journeys to the cab Inspector Kenly was standing by his wife's side, and he was inviting the shadow-man to join him in a nightcap before retiring to rest.
Cornelius was agreeable. He followed his host into the tiny parlour where Mrs. Kenly produced a bottle and glasses from the sideboard and a jug of hot water and a lemon from the kitchen.
"It's just like coming 'ome," said Jessel.
"We'll make you feel at home here, right enough," replied the Inspector.