Inspector Kenly looked up, and his surprise was expressed in his strongest exclamation.
"By Henry!" he remarked.
Cornelius Jessel glided through the gate, a model of smiling decorum. Inspector Kenly wheeled round promptly so that his back was towards the window, nor did he turn again until Jessel's footsteps were no longer audible.
"So he is your man?" remarked the gate-keeper curiously.
"He most certainly is my man," replied the detective emphatically.
"From the first time I set eyes on him," declared the porter, "I knew he was a criminal. What has he been doing? I shouldn't be surprised if it was murder. He walks for all the world like a poisoner."
Inspector Kenly laughed. "At present I cannot say that he is guilty of anything," he remarked. "But I am glad to know that he is somewhere handy when I want to lay my hand upon him. By the way," he added drily, "has your observation of the gait of poisoners been extensive?"
The porter seemed puzzled.
"That's the only gate I know anything about," he answered, nodding his head towards the entrance.
"Inspector Kenly smiled." "The gait—the walk of poisoners," he remarked.