rds Battersea I was modifying my
original plan in accordance with the unforeseen conditions.

It was long past Dr. Stuart's hours of consultation when I arrived at
his house, and the servant showed me into a waiting-room, informing me
that the doctor would join me in a few minutes. Directly she had gone
out I took from the pocket of my tunic the sealed envelope which I had
intended to lodge with the doctor. Pah! it was stained with blood
which had trickled down from the wound in my scalp!

Actually, you will say, there was no reason why I should place a
letter in the hand of Dr. Stuart; my purpose would equally well be
served by _pretending_ that I had done so. Ah, but I knew that I had
to deal with clever people--with artists in crime--and it behooved me
to be an artist also. I had good reason to know that their system of
espionage was efficient; and the slipshod way is ever the wrong way.

The unpleasantly sticky letter I returned to my pocket, looking around
me for some means of making up any kind of packet which could do duty
as a substitute. Beyond a certain draped over a recess at one end of
the waiting-room I saw a row of boxes, a box of lint and other medical
paraphernalia. It was the doctor's dispensary. Perhaps I might find
there an envelope.

I crossed the room and looked. Immediately around the corner, on a
level with my eyes, was a packet of foolscap envelopes and a stick of
black sealing-wax! _Bien!_ all that I now required was a stout sheet
of paper to enclose in one of those envelopes. But not a scrap of
paper could I find, except the blood-stained letter in my pocket--
towards which I had formed a strong antipathy. I had not even a
newspaper in my possession. I thought of folding three or four
envelopes, but there were only six in all, and the absence of so
many might be noted.

Drawing aside a baize curtain which hung from the bottom shelf, I
discovered a number of old card-board boxes. It was sufficient. With
a pair of surgical scissors I cut a piece from the lid of one and
thrust it into an envelope, gumming down the lapel. At a little gas
jet intended for the purpose I closed both ends with wax and--
singular coincidence!--finding a Chinese coin fastened to a cork
lying on the shelf, my sense of humour prompted me to use it as a
seal! Finally, to add to the verisimilitude of the affair I borrowed
a pen which rested in a bottle of red ink and wrote upon the
envelope the number: 30, that day be