Mechanically I walked towards Kensington Church in order to take the omnibus back to Hammersmith. My mind was filled with the mystery of my marriage and the reason why the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds had been offered me if I would consent to secretly kill my bride.
Certain it was that I had been the victim of a cunningly devised plot, and further, that the fact of my return to London was known to those who had conspired against me. Therefore, it behoved me to exercise considerable care and caution in the prosecution of my inquiries. The two scoundrels, Wyndham Wynd and Major Tattersett, must, I resolved, be discovered at all hazards, while I must also leave no stone unturned to find out the house in which the marriage had taken place.
The man Wynd had intended that my wife should die, but it was plain that, by some good fortune, she had escaped him. Yet the most curious phase of the affair was that she appeared utterly unconscious of it all.
It struck me that I might, by dint of careful questioning, learn something from Sir Henry’s wife. But she was, I knew, a clever, intelligent woman; and if she held a secret, it would be exceedingly difficult to obtain knowledge of it.
I returned to Rowan Road, and, on entering with my latch-key, found Bob standing in the hall.
“Why, my dear fellow?” he cried; “I had a wire to say you were missing, and so came up to look after you. Where, in the name of fortune, have you been?”
“I’ve been abroad,” I responded vaguely.
“Abroad!” he cried incredulously. “Why? What made you go abroad?”
“I’ll tell you all when we get upstairs,” I answered; and we ascended together to the little den.
Then, over our pipes, I related to him the curious story.