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No one was on the stairs, nor in the gateway. He passed quickly

through the gateway and turned to the left in the street.

He knew, he knew perfectly well that at that moment they were at

the flat, that they were greatly astonished at finding it

unlocked, as the door had just been fastened, that by now they

were looking at the bodies, that before another minute had passed

they would guess and completely realise that the murderer had

just been there, and had succeeded in hiding somewhere, slipping

by them and escaping. They would guess most likely that he had

been in the empty flat, while they were going upstairs. And

meanwhile he dared not quicken his pace much, though the next

turning was still nearly a hundred yards away. "Should he slip

through some gateway and wait somewhere in an unknown street? No,

hopeless! Should he fling away the axe? Should he take a cab?

Hopeless, hopeless!"