The officer made a note of these particulars, and promised that the information should be dispersed in all directions without loss of time. Then, feeling that nothing more could be done Jim bade him good-night, and drove back to his hotel. In spite of the work he had done that day he was not destined to obtain a wink of sleep all night, but tumbled and tossed in his bed, brooding continually over the chance he had missed of securing his father's murderer. If only he had alighted when the cabman first stopped, he might have been able to have secured Murbridge. Now his capture seemed as remote as ever; further, indeed, than if he had been, as Robins supposed, on board the vessel bound for South Africa.
Jim had just finished his breakfast next morning when Robins called to see him.
"This is a nice sort of surprise you have given us, sir," said the detective, when he had made a few commonplace remarks, "I mean your seeing Murbridge last night; I don't know what to think of it. It seems to me to be more of a mystery than ever now."
"The only thing you can think of it is that Murbridge is in London, and not on board the mail boat as you supposed," Jim replied. "You must have got upon a wrong track again. I suppose there is no further news of him this morning?"
"There was none when I left the Yard," the other replied. "At present we are over-hauling all the doss-houses and shelters, and it is possible we may make a discovery before long. When you think of the description we have of him—a man wearing a brown coat and a felt hat—it is not very much to go upon. There must be hundreds of men dressed like that in London. If only we had a photograph of him it would make the labour a good deal easier."
This set Jim thinking. In the lumber-room at Childerbridge there was, as he remembered, a number of cases containing books, photograph albums, etc., which his father had brought with him from Australia, but which had never been unpacked. He recalled the fact that his father had told him that he had been on intimate terms with Murbridge many years before. Was it not possible, therefore, that among his collections there might be some portrait of that individual. He felt inclined to run down and turn the boxes over. What was more, if he did so, he might chance to obtain an interview with Helen. He explained his hopes with regard to the photograph to the detective, who instantly agreed that it might be worth his while to make the search.
"In that case I will go down by the eleven o'clock train, and if I discover anything, I will wire you and post the photograph on to you by the evening mail."
"It is unnecessary for me to assure you it would be an inestimable help to us in our search," the other answered; "we should have something more definite to go upon then."
True to this arrangement, therefore Jim, Alice, and Terence returned to Childerbridge by the morning train. A carriage met them at the station, and in it they drove through the village. As they were drawing near the park gates, an exclamation from Alice roused Jim from the reverie into which he had fallen, and caused him to glance up the lane that led from the main road. To his unspeakable joy, he discovered that Helen was coming towards them. In a moment the carriage was stopped, and Jim alighted and hastened to meet her.
"My darling," he cried, "I never counted upon having the happiness of seeing you so soon. This is most fortunate."