As I passed the end of the street
which goes round the back of the Grand Junction Canal basin, the street
called Iron Gate Wharf, I saw turn into it, walking very quickly, a
Chinaman whom I knew to be one of the two Chinese medical students to whom
Daniel Multenius had let a furnished house in Maida Vale. He had his back
to me--I did not know which of the two he was. I thought nothing of the
matter, and went on. In another minute I was at the pawn-shop. I opened
the door, walked in, and went straight to the little parlour--I had been
there just twice before when Daniel Multenius was alone, and so I knew my
way. I went, I say, straight through--and in the parlour doorway ran into
Stephen Purvis.
"Purvis was excited--trembling, big fellow though he is, do you see? He
will bear me out as to what was said--and done. Without a word, he turned
and pointed to where Daniel Multenius was lying across the floor--dead. 'I
haven't been here a minute!' said Purvis. 'I came in--found him, like
that! There's nobody here. For God's sake, where's my diamond?'
"Now, I was quick to think. I formed an impression within five seconds.
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