"You will have a surgeon with you," I said, "whose evidence will be conclusive as to the scar on the forehead. I understand the bone was penetrated. Everything must be done quickly, and above all the affair must be kept out of the newspapers."
I laid special emphasis upon this, because I did not intend that the game should be taken out of my hands. We settled upon an address in Liverpool to which I could write or wire any further instructions that might be necessary, and he went off in high spirits to catch the ten o'clock train.
Before proceeding to my office I paid a visit to my dram-drinking friend who had been cast off by Madame Lourbet. His name, which she had renounced, was Whybrow. I passed her shop on the way, having no fear that I would be recognized, and taking particular care not to rub my chin with the middle finger of my right hand. I saw Madame Lourbet behind the counter, and caught a glimpse of that confounded green curtain. It is curious how one thing suggests another. The moment my eyes fell upon the curtain an idea suggested itself which set me laughing, and which proved to be perhaps the most important step in the elucidation of the Mystery. I will not mention it in this place, but I determined to act upon it later on if I considered it advisable. Clever as Madame Lourbet was I hoped to show that I was one too many for her.
Mr. Whybrow was in bed, pining for liquor. I sent out for a quartern of gin--that being the cheapest tipple--and under its influence, and fortified by my saying that I thought I should be able to bring Madame Lourbet to book in his interests, he became communicative. I learned that she had two friends who visited her from time to time, and with whom he was not allowed to strike up an acquaintance. One of these was a man, the other a woman. I paid close attention to his description of the man, whom he suspected had supplanted him in her affections. This man was tall and dark; but he had no beard or whiskers. I thought of Wheeler's words, "they might have been false," and I left Mr. Whybrow with the conviction that it was the man who had followed me from Soho. If that were so I had alarmed him by my reference to Louis' mother, and he had signaled to Madame Lourbet to give her a warning that I might be a spy; his beard and whiskers being false was another point in my favor. I had sufficient confidence to introduce myself in my own proper person to that lady and make a trifling purchase. She served me politely, but there was trouble in her face, which rather pleased me than otherwise. I was pleased, too, that she betrayed no recognition of me, and did not connect me with the man who had paid her a visit the night before.