So this was the document which would probably reveal the secret of the murder in Crooked Friars' Alley! This was the document which Mademoiselle Idiale considered of so much more importance than the fortune represented by that packet of bank-notes! What did it all mean?
Was this man, who had either expiated a crime or been the victim of a terrible vengeance,--was he a politician, a dealer in trade secrets, a member of a secret society, an informer?
Or was he one of the underground criminals of the world, one of those who crawl beneath the surface of known things--a creature of the dark places?
Perhaps during those few minutes, when his brain was cool and active, with the great city awakening all around him, Laverick realized more completely than ever before exactly how he stood.

Without doubt he was walking on the brink of a precipice.

Four days ago there had been nothing for him but ruin.

The means of salvation had suddenly presented themselves in this startling and dramatic manner, and without hesitation he had embraced them.

What did it all amount to?
How far was he guilty, and of what?
Was he a thief?
The law would probably call him so.