When a little later Mrs. Kenly said good-night and retired Jessel felt so much at home indeed that he was easily persuaded to take "just one more" before following her example. He grew quite talkative, yet even under the detective's skilful guidance he could not be led to speak upon the one subject which his host was anxious to get him to talk about. Kenly was afraid to put leading questions lest he should become alarmed too early.
There was a time for all things, however, and the time came when the Inspector thought it desirable that his companion should receive a shock. It arrived when, after Jessel had knocked the ashes out of his pipe and remarked that he thought it was about time to turn in.
"There's one thing I want to ask you first," remarked the detective quietly. "Who was the old gentleman, got up like a parson, who came to visit you here?"
The shot told. Jessel grew suddenly pale and his jaw dropped. "Old gentleman? What old gentleman?" he stammered.
Kenly did not reply immediately. He walked across the room and deliberately turned the key in the lock and placed the key in his pocket. Then returning he took a card from his waistcoat pocket and laid it on the table before his companion.
"You don't seem to be aware who I am, Jessel," he said pleasantly.
Mechanically Cornelius lifted up the card, and as he read his face grew longer than ever. He laid the card on the table. Kenly, noticing his shaking hand, smiled.
"Detective Inspector Kenly from Scotland Yard," said Cornelius, as if bewildered.
"That's me," declared Kenly. "And I mean to have an answer to the question I have just asked you." Jessel's confusion was almost pitiable to witness. The mine that had been sprung upon him took his breath away. To think that he had been a tenant of a member of the detective force, sleeping under the same roof, and that the Master had come to see him there was too preposterous to be believed.
"You—you're joking," he stammered at last.