n down to the city. He did not particularly
concern himself about Gabriel's visit to the stage-door of the Adalbert
Theatre; it was something, after all, to know he had gone there: if need
arose, he might be traced from that theatre, in which, very possibly, he
had some financial interest. What Starmidge had desired to ascertain
was the banker's London address: he had already learned in Scarnham that
Gabriel Chestermarke was constantly in London for days at a time--he
must have some permanent address at which he could be found. And
Starmidge foresaw that he might wish to find him--perhaps in a hurry.

But just then his chief concern was with another banking
firm--Vanderkiste's. He walked slowly along Lombard Street until he came
to the house--a quiet, sober, eminently respectable-looking old business
place, quite unlike the palatial affairs in which the great banking
corporations of modern origin carry on their transactions. There was no
display of marble and plaster and plate glass and mahogany and heavy
plethoric fittings--a modest brass plate affixed to the door was the
only sign and announcement that banking business was carried on within.
Equally old-fashioned and modest was the interior--and Starmidge was
quick to notice that the clerks were all elderly or middle-aged men,
solemn and grave as undertakers.

The presentation of the detective's official card procured him speedy
entrance to a parlour in which sat two old gentlemen, who were evidently
greatly surprised to see him. They were so much surprised indeed, as to
be almost childishly interested, and Starmidge had never had such
attentive listeners in his life as these two elderly city men, to whom
crime and detention were as unfamiliar as higher finance was to their
visitor. They followed Starmidge's story point by point, nodding every
now and then as he drew their attention to particular passages, and the
detective saw that they comprehended all he said. He made an end at
last--and Mr. Vanderkiste, a white-bearded, benevolent-looking
gentleman, looked at Mr. Mullineau, a little, rosy-faced man, and shook
his head.

"It would be an unusual thing, certainly," he observed, "for Mr.
Frederick Hollis to have ten thousand pounds lying here to his credit.
Mr. Hollis was an old customer--we knew him very well--but he didn't
keep a lot of money here. We--er--know his circumstances. He bought
himself a very nice annuity some years ago--it was paid into his account
h