"It must have been my photograph," she replied, with an innocent smile.
"Precisely! I found a locket a couple years ago with your photograph in it—I knew I had seen your face somewhere!"
"Could you let me see it, Mr. Hall?" with the same innocent smile.
"No, I regret to say I cannot; although what has become of it I do not know. But I beg you will tell Mrs. Stafford I had to go, as I wish to catch the train back and I have barely time to do so," and having driven a very large nail in his own coffin, Hall left immediately, while Miss Fleming at once wrote Carden an account of her conversation with him regarding the locket.
When Hall alighted from the train in London, he ran plump into a gentleman of rather disreputable appearance, who cordially "blawsted" Mr. Hall's "heyes" and consigned his soul to everlasting perdition.
Hall did not recognize the burly individual and paid no attention to him, but the other appeared to recognize him and heard him give the order to drive to No. — Harley Street.
"So yer back are ye!" he muttered. "Mebbe I'll give ye a call afore ye know it!"
It was our old friend Jaggers, and after Hall was driven away he stood for some time in deep thought. After a while he moved off in a hesitating way. Then apparently coming to a sudden resolution, he muttered a horrible oath, saying—"I'll do it!" and walked quickly in the direction of the den known as "Blind Jim's," where Blount had met him regarding the murder.
On arriving at "Blind Jim's" he sought a desperate character known as "The Knifer," and both adjourned to a private room.
It was early in the evening, and though the two conversed very earnestly until after midnight, and "The Knifer" appeared to have money, they drank but little—which caused the proprietor of the den to remark that "the boys in number six must have a little business on hand."