"'Orrible murder! Suicide of the assassin! 'Orrible murder!"
He was running very fast and apparently not looking where he was going, for he knocked roughly against me as he passed, dislodging my hand from my breast; but Brooks he ran right into, full tilt, with the result that my man lost his balance and sprawled on the pavement.
It was then that a very fussy little over-dressed man came bustling up out of the fog, accompanied by a very attractive lady.
"A more disgraceful thing, sir," he said, addressing me, "I have never seen before. I trust you are not hurt, sir?"
"No, thank you, I'm all right," I answered, half inclined to laugh at Brooks scrambling up from the pavement and brushing himself, for it was a wet, slimy day and the pavements muddy. The newspaper man had disappeared.
"Why, I declare," exclaimed the little man, "the scamp has covered you with mud!"
I looked down; there certainly was a splash of mud on the front of my coat. I wondered how it had got there. Despite my assertions, the two—both the lady and the gentleman—insisted on brushing me, until in very desperation I had to get into the brougham out of their way. Then they suddenly made me very polite bows and disappeared.
Brooks mounted the box, and we rattled away to Euston. There was one thing which attracted my attention, however, on that short journey. Brooks' ungloved hand was hanging down as he sat on the box, and I noticed that he kept snapping his fingers as he sat.
"That's a very highly nervous man," I said to myself, "and even that little incident has upset him."
Brooks' nervousness passed out of my mind altogether when we reached Euston, and I sought in the bustle for my two cousins. I found them at last standing in front of the reserved coupé which I had taken care to have secured for us by my man.