Fitzroy by this time, and then both cabs turned out of Gertrude Street into Nicholson Street, thence passed on to Evelyn Street and along Spring Street, until Brian's cab stopped at the corner of Collins Street, and Gorby saw him alight and dismiss his cabman. He then walked down the street and disappeared into the Treasury Gardens.
"Confound it," said the detective, as he got out and paid his fare, which was not by any means a light one, but over which he had no time to argue, "we've come in a circle, and I do believe he lives in Powlett Street after all."
He went into the Gardens, and saw Brian some distance ahead of him, walking rapidly. It was bright moonlight, and he could easily distinguish Fitzgerald by his lightcoat. He went along the noble avenue of Elms, which were in their winter dress, and the moon shining through their branches wrought fantastic tracery on the smooth asphalt beneath. And on either side Gorby could see the dim white forms of the old Greek gods and goddesses—Venus Victrix, with the apple in her hand (which Mr. Gorby, in his happy ignorance of heathen mythology, took for Eve offering Adam the forbidden fruit); Diana, with the hound at her feet, and Bacchus and Ariadne (which the detective imagined were the Babes in the Wood). He knew that each of the statues had queer names, but thought that they were merely allegorical.
Passing over the bridge, with the water rippling quietly underneath, Brian went up the smooth yellow path to where the statue of Hebe, holding the cup, seems instinct with life, and almost stepping off the pedestal, and turning down the path to the right, he left the garden by the end gate, near which stands the statue of the Dancing Faun, with the great bush of scarlet geranium burning like an alter before it. Then he went along the Wellington Parade, and turned up Powlett Street, where he stopped at a house near Cairns' Memorial Church, much to Mr. Gorby's relief, who, being like Hamlet, "fat and scant of breath," found himself rather exhausted. He kept well in the shadow, however, and saw Fitzgerald give one final look around before he disappeared into the house. Then Mr. Gorby, like the Robber Captain in Ali Baba, took careful stock of the house, and fixed its locality and appearance well in his mind, as he intended to call at it on the morrow.
