which
seemed to grow wilder as the night wore on. The fire began to burn low,
and the chilly air of the morning crept into the room; Villiers got up
with a glance over his shoulder, and shivering slightly, went to bed.

A few days later he saw at his club a gentleman of his acquaintance,
named Austin, who was famous for his intimate knowledge of London life,
both in its tenebrous and luminous phases. Villiers, still full of his
encounter in Soho and its consequences, thought Austin might possibly be
able to shed some light on Herbert's history, and so after some casual
talk he suddenly put the question:

'Do you happen to know anything of a man named Herbert--Charles
Herbert?'

Austin turned round sharply and stared at Villiers with some
astonishment.

'Charles Herbert? Weren't you in town three years ago? No; then you have
not heard of the Paul Street case? It caused a good deal of sensation at
the time.'

'What was the case?'

'Well, a gentleman, a man of very good position, was found dead, stark
dead, in the area of a certain house in Paul Street, off Tottenham Court
Road. Of course the police did not make the discovery; if you happen to
be sitting up all night and have a light in your window, the constable
will ring the bell, but if you happen to be lying dead in somebody's
area, you will be left alone. In this instance as in many others the
alarm was raised by some kind of vagabond; I don't mean a common tramp,
or a public-house loafer, but a gentleman, whose business or pleasure,
or both, made him a spectator of the London streets at five o'clock in
the morning. This individual was, as he said, "going home," it did not
appear whence or whither, and had occasion to pass through Paul Street
between four and five a. m. Something or other caught his eye at Number
20; he said, absurdly enough, that the house had the most unpleasant
physiognomy he had ever observed, but, at any rate, he glanced down the
area, and was a good deal astonished to see a man lying on the stones,
his limbs all huddled together, and his face turned up. Our gentleman
thought his face looked peculiarly ghastly, and so set off at a run in
search of the nearest policeman. The constable was at first inclined to
treat the matter lightly, suspecting common drunkenness; however, he
came, and after looking at the man's face, changed his tone, quickly
enough. The early bird, who had picked up this fine worm, was sent off
for a doctor, and the po