It must have been some kind of holiday, although I forget for what the flags were flying, and there was a holiday look about the town.
I thought I would walk for ten minutes before my breakfast.

I went toward the Chain Pier, drawn by the irresistible attraction of the face I had seen there last evening.
It struck me that there was an unusual number of people about the Chain Pier; quite a crowd had collected at the gate.

People were talking to each other in an excited fashion.

I saw one or two policemen, and I came to the conclusion that some accident or other had happened on the pier.
I went up to the crowd--two or three boatmen stood leaning over the rail.
"What is the matter ?" I asked.
"Matter, sir ?" replied one; "there is matter enough.

There must have been murder, or something very much like it, done on that pier last night." "Murder ?" I cried, with a beating heart; "do not use such a horrible word." "It is a horrible thing, sir, but it has been done," replied the boatman..