In this atmosphere any step would have sounded like a drum, but the light step which drew my attention was more like a shout despite its lack of volume. Something in the sound, as it insinuated itself out from the background of the city, caught me as in a steel trap and with a growing certainty of success, I withdrew into the shadow of the court which I had been using as both shelter and hiding place.

The steps swelled into a crescendo as their owner turned the corner. I do not know what I had expected from Mister Enfield's description, but the figure that emerged from the night scarcely seemed to fit his words. It was a small, slight man with a furtive manner. He was plainly dressed with nothing to mark him out, and yet, as he grew clearer, there seemed something indefinably wrong about him.

I waited, in case I had the wrong man, but he pulled a key from his pocket and moved straight for the door, with all the air of one reaching home after a hard day's work.