"Somebody murdered!" he exclaimed in surprise. "By Jove, a crime in a 'bus isn't a sight to be witnessed every day. Wait over there, cabby, opposite the church. I'll go and have a look."
Alighting, he quickly made his way through the excited crowd. As he edged in towards the omnibus, two constables, who had just lifted the body out, were placing it carefully upon the stretcher, for a doctor had already made an examination and pronounced that death had been almost instantaneous.
In the brief moment while the constables arranged his head the light of the gas lamps outside the public-house shone full upon the pale, bloodless features, revealing a man of about thirty-five, whose face was well moulded and refined, with closed eyes, very wavy hair, and short, pointed beard. That he was a gentleman was evident. His hands looked soft and white, his finger-nails showed that attention had been bestowed upon them; a large diamond glittered on his finger, and in his scarf was another valuable stone. His attire, too, was the reverse of common, for his overcoat was lined with sable in a style which only a West-End tailor could produce, and his other garments were of the best quality and latest fashion.
"Poor fellow—he looks as if he's asleep," exclaimed a woman sympathetically, at the young man's elbow.
"Ah," remarked another, "he'll never wake again. Whoever killed him accomplished the deed very effectually."
"He's a thorough gentleman, too," commented a cabman, who was eagerly watching with several of his companions. "I wonder what the motive could have been?"
"They'll call Teddy Mills's 'bus the hearse, now," said another cabman; but his companion replied—
