“Scarcely,” he laughed. “But if we did the darkness wouldn’t trouble you very much, I fear. Blindness must be an awful affliction.”
He had scarcely uttered these words ere we ascended a couple of steps and entered what seemed to be a spacious place, the charge-room of the police-station.
There was the sound of heavy tramping over bare boards, and suddenly a rather gruff voice inquired—
“Well, four-six-eight? What is it?”
“Gentleman, sir—wants to report a tragedy. He’s blind, sir.”
“Bring him a chair,” said the inspector’s voice authoritatively.
My guide drew forward a chair, and I seated myself, saying—
“I believe you are the inspector on duty here?”
“Yes, I am. Will you kindly tell me your name and address?”
I did so, and the scratching of a quill told me that he was about to take down my statement.