Upsidonia

I had been walking for many days, carrying my pack, enjoying myself hugely and spending next to nothing. I had got into a wild hilly country, where habitation was very sparse, and had walked for hours that morning along a rough road without meeting a single human being.

In the middle of the day I came to a moor-side hamlet, where I got something of a meal, and set out again almost immediately, meaning to find some place where I could enjoy an hour's sleep. For it was very hot, and I had already walked over twenty miles.

But as I left the village, I was joined by a gentleman of obliging manners but somewhat unkempt appearance, who invited me to turn aside and visit the old jet caves, which had once been famous in this locality, though long since disused.

For anything but a cave, I should have done my best to shake him off, but I have a great love of caves, especially of those which go mysteriously back into the bowels of the earth, and no one knows their ending. They are full of romance, and call up all sorts of delightful visions. From Eastern tales of magic and treasure to brisk tales of smugglers, the entrance to a cave has always been the entrance to regions of mystery, in which anything may happen. So I immediately accepted the invitation to visit these caves, which were only a few hundred yards away from the main road.

At first sight they were a trifle disappointing. There were three of them, at the foot of a high bank of shale, almost hidden by trees and shrubs. The shale had nearly closed the entrances, and one looked over a bank of it, which left a hole hardly more than big enough to creep through. Still, they were undoubtedly caves, and not mere holes in the hillside. The largest one was full of water, and little ferns grew luxuriantly on the sides and roof, which dripped continuously. One of the others was choked by a fall of earth a little way from the entrance, and my guide told me that this had happened quite recently, after a very wet spell. The third was comparatively dry, and he said that he had himself penetrated more than a mile into it, with no signs of its ending.

Whether this was true or not, I could not resist trying it. I had an electric torch, fully charged, in my pack, and it was a great chance to have a cave to explore with it. My friend demurred a little at accompanying me. He said that if the other cave had fallen in, after so many years, this one was not unlikely to fall in now at any time, and we should find ourselves in an awkward fix if it should fall in while we were exploring, and cut off our retreat. I had no wish for his company, and did not press him; but when I got out the torch, and flashed it, he thought he would come after all. I think he had at heart the same sort of feeling about caves and electric torches that I had.

We got over the mound on to the muddy floor of the cave. The roof was high enough to enable us to walk upright, and we went forward singly, straight ahead into the darkness.

We had got in perhaps thirty or forty yards, and I had just switched on the torch, when a stone or something fell in front of us with a noisy plump. My companion clutched me by the arm. "I believe there's going to be a fall," he said.

I shook him off and continued, and again something fell, that made still more noise. "Come back!" he shouted. "Come back!"

I turned round to see him running towards the patch of sunlight, and then there was a load roar in my ears, which, however, instantly became dead silence.

For a moment I was confused, but went on, forgetting all about my late companion. When I turned round again he had disappeared, and the patch of sunlight also. So I continued on my way, and seemed to be always mounting upwards, with the ground quite dry, and the roof of the cave still some way above my head.

I had certainly now walked a mile when, to my surprise, I saw a point of light in front of me, which increased as I approached it, and presently showed itself as a wide opening.

I came out into a place much like that at which I had entered, except that it was still more masked by shrubs, and found myself in the clearing of a wood. It seemed to me that I had come quite straight along the underground passage, so that I must be on the way in which I intended to go. The cave, as a cave, had been disappointing, and there was nothing to be gained by going back. I would take my nap, and then find the road again.

I looked about for a place to lie down in, and as I did so saw a very ragged dirty man coming towards me.

I was rather annoyed at this. Having shaken off one uninvited companion, I did not want to be troubled with another.

There was something rather striking about his face, in spite of his unkempt hair and beard-a look of self-possession, even of pride, and, as he kept his eyes on me approaching him, almost of arrogance.

However, he was poor enough, to all appearances, and I thought that if I gave him some money he would probably want to go away at once and spend it. So I accosted him cheerfully and offered him a sixpence.

I had made no mistake about his arrogance. He drew himself up, and his eyes flashed at me.

"How dare you?" he began. "I will--"; and he looked round as if to summon someone to aid him in resenting an insult.

"Oh, all right," I said, pocketing the coin; "if you are as proud as all that--! But I meant no harm, and I'm almost as poor as you are."

"The more shame to you for behaving like that," he said hotly. "I could forgive it, perhaps, in one who was richer. I will not take your money; and if you use your superior strength to force it on me, I warn you that you will not hear the last of it."

I felt sorry for the poor creature. I took the sixpence out of my pocket again, and held it out to him.

"Come now, take it," I said. "Go and get yourself a good meal, or a drink if you like. You look as if it wouldn't do you any harm."

He was still more enraged. "You impudent scoundrel!" he cried. "I'll have you arrested for this." And he stalked off with his head in the air, wrapping his rags around him.

He looked such an absurd figure that I sent an involuntary laugh after him, which caused him to turn round and shake his fist at me. I had not meant him to hear, for I was sorry for him; but I reflected before I had chosen my mossy resting-place under a spreading oak, that with so great a contempt for money and what money represented in the way of bodily comfort, he was not so much in want of pity as he seemed to be. Then I took off my knapsack, and pillowing my head upon it was soon in a deep sleep.

As, after a long time, I began to regain consciousness, I became aware of a touch on my body about the region of my waist. It could only have been a second or two before the actuality disengaged itself from the stuff of my dreams, and I suddenly awoke, and sprang up into a sitting posture, to see a figure disappearing among the trees. Feeling in my waistcoat pocket, I found that my watch had disappeared.

I jumped up, and seizing my knapsack in one hand and my stout walking-stick in the other, gave chase.

I had not very far to go. When I got round the tree behind which the thief had disappeared, I saw to my surprise that he was an elderly, if not an old man, dressed in a frock coat and a tall hat. He was stout, and appeared to be grossly fed, for as I came up to him he turned and put up his hands to warn me off-my watch was in one of them; but he was so winded by his few yards' run that he was not able to speak. In his mouth was a large and expensive-smelling cigar, and he formed the oddest figure of a watch-snatcher that could well be imagined.

I seized my watch out of his hand, and he found breath enough to bleat out: "What are you doing? They're after you. Give me all your money quickly, before they come."

"You old rascal!" I cried, and was going on to give him a piece of my mind, when my attention was distracted by a hullabaloo from the road, which was only a few yards off, and from which we could be plainly seen.

"There's the rascal! That's him!" I heard shouted, and saw a considerable concourse of people advancing towards me, headed by a policeman, and the ragged man to whom I had tendered the coin.

The presence of a policeman in that, as I had thought, lonely spot, was a better piece of fortune than I could have hoped for. "Yes, here he is," I said. "He stole my watch while I was asleep, and ran off with it. Constable, I give him in charge."

The policeman had leapt the ditch which divided the wood from the road, and now came straight towards me with a look of determination on his face.

"Take him!" shouted the ragged man; and, to my utter astonishment, he seized me by the collar, and said: "Now you come along with me quietly, or it will be the worse for you."

I shook him off roughly. I was young and strong, and he was neither.

"What are you doing?" I asked angrily. "Here's the thief! Take hold of him."

The fat man turned away with a shrug of the shoulders. "I wash my hands of it," he said. "You can do what you like with him."

I was so infuriated with his impudence that I made a dash for him. But the policeman was on me again, and with him several others from the crowd. In spite of my struggles I was soon overpowered.

"Are you all mad?" I cried. "There's the thief! Why don't you take him? I've done nothing."

They paid not the slightest attention to my protestations. The ragged man had taken no part in my capture, but stood aside, and directed the others with an air of authority. This was the more remarkable, because the greater part of them were not like the ordinary crowd that follows the police on an errand of duty, but were well-dressed, and had all the air of being well-to-do or even rich.

I appealed to them. "Do give a fellow a chance," I said. "I'm on a walking-tour, and I dare say I look like a tramp. But I'm quite respectable."

They cut me short by dragging me towards the road, where a smart Victoria was standing, at a point towards which other carriages were now driving.

The policeman said: "You're charged with trying to force money on this gentleman; and I warn you that anything you now say will be used in evidence against you."

I saw it was no use protesting further. I was either asleep and dreaming, in which case I should presently awake; or I was in the hands of a set of lunatics, and must wait until I got again into the company of sensible men.

But it annoyed me to see the smug old thief retiring with all the honours of war, while I was being led off in ignominious captivity. He was actually now stepping into the Victoria, and the cockaded coachman on the box was touching his hat to him.

"I warn you that you will be sorry for this," I said to my captors. "But, at any rate, take that man too. I tell you that he stole my watch, and wanted to take all my money before you came up."

They took no notice of this appeal, except that one of two ill-dressed men amongst the well-dressed ones said to the other: "Old Perry is really rather overdoing it. He'll be had up for tampering with justice if he's not careful."

"Then why don't you get him taken up now?" I asked.

But they looked at me coldly and turned away.

"Mr. Perry," said the ragged man, "this is a dangerous criminal. Will you let the constable drive him to the police station, and walk back with us?"

The old humbug of whom this remarkable request was made turned up a sanctimonious face, and replied: "I am in my proper place amongst the low and degraded. Let the prisoner drive with me."

There were murmurs of astonishment at this, and one of the poor-looking men said to my ragged one: "Oh, let him alone! He'll get tired of it by and by."

I was then ordered into the carriage, and we drove off at a foot's pace, the other carriages turning back to accompany us, and the crowd walking behind and on either side.

I was surprised to see that the country was very different from what I had imagined it to be when I had come through the cave. Before that, as I have said, there had been few signs of human habitation; but now I had suddenly come into a populous country-side, and seemed to be not far from a town of some size.

For we were passing large houses in large gardens, villas, and cottages; and the road, which had been of the roughest, was wide and smooth, and there was a good deal of traffic on it.

I could not make out in the least where I had come to. I had known that I could not be many miles off the village of Eppington, but could think of no considerable town within a radius of fifty miles of where I had spent the night; and I knew I could not have walked that distance. I might have put a question to my companion; but I was so annoyed that I could not bring myself to address him.

It was he who first addressed me. He was still ostentatiously smoking his rich cigar, and looked at me out of a bilious, but impudently benevolent eye, and said: "Young man, I would have saved you if I could. I think you must now be convinced of that. It may be that in the exercise of my charity I have overstepped the mark, and have done wrong. It now only remains for you to show your gratitude by keeping what has passed to yourself. If a charge is brought against me, I look to you to shield my good name, or my sphere of influence may be much diminished."

My reply to this preposterous piece of cant was a somewhat violent assurance that I should see that he got the punishment he deserved. He held up his fat hands in pained astonishment, and thereafter kept silence.

* * *

By and by we came to a tramway terminus, where an electric car was standing. The policeman, who had been walking by the side of the carriage, the ragged man, and many of our other followers, jumped on to it. The fat rascal in whose carriage I was seated ordered the coachman to drive on faster, and I was not sorry to be relieved of most of our escort. But the other carriages, of which there were perhaps half a dozen, and some of them very splendid equipages indeed, continued with us, and my appearance was still rather more public than I could have wished.

We presently passed into a busy street of shops. I could not for the life of me imagine what town it was that I had come to. It was evidently a place of considerable importance and a large population, which crowded the streets, and frequently jeered at our little procession.

Everything around me seemed usual. The shops and buildings were like those of any other large town, and the people much the same-a mixture of old and young, rich and poor.

But there was just one thing that struck me as a little strange. The poor people-even the very poorest, like the man at whose hands I had been so remarkably arrested-walked amongst the rest with an air far more assured than was customary; and the well-dressed people seemed to have rather a hang-dog sort of look. I might not have noticed this but for the predicament in which I found myself; but my attention being fixed upon the point it was impossible to ignore it.

We drew up at the door of a police station, and I was taken inside, where I lost no time in making a somewhat violent protest to the sergeant in charge, and again invited him to take the preposterous Mr. Perry into custody.

As before, not the smallest notice was taken of my indignant speech. I was told sharply to hold my tongue, and the charge against me was repeated in the same ridiculous form in which it had first been made, and entered in the sergeant's ledger. The ragged man appeared before the formalities were concluded, and, to my now painful bewilderment, was treated with marked respect by the police, whom he addressed with calm authority. His name was entered as my accuser, and, upon the charge being read over to me, I discovered him to be "Lord Potter."

Well, if he was really a nobleman in disguise, that perhaps accounted for the absurd subserviency with which he was treated. But the disguise was so complete that my indignation was redoubled, and I made one more very strong protest before I was led away.

"What place is this?" I asked, when I saw that no more notice was going to be taken of my protest than before.

Lord Potter stared at me with high disdain on his dirty face, and Mr. Perry with a most irritating air of grieved sympathy.

"Perhaps," I said, "I can find someone I know, who will come to my assistance. I don't know in the least what town I am in."

"Come along," said the constable who had arrested me. "You'll only make it worse by being impudent. You know well enough what place you're in. Now are you coming quietly, or shall I have to take you?"

I thought it best to go quietly. I was taken through a door opposite to the one by which we had entered, and rather to my surprise found myself in a carpeted passage. We passed several other doors on either side, until we came to one which the policeman unlocked.

"By the look of your clothes," he said, as he fumbled with the key, "you ought to be better treated; but we're pretty full up, and you'll only be here till to-morrow morning. You must make the best of it. Here, take this."

He pushed half a crown into my hand, and me through the door, which he immediately shut and locked after me, leaving me for the first time in my life in a prison cell.

My surprise, at the extraordinary action of a policeman in pressing a tip upon a prisoner, was overcome by the fierce anger I felt at being locked up in a pitch dark cell, which could not have been more than five or six feet square; for as I put out my hands I found I could touch the walls on all sides. What mad piece of inhumanity was this, to add to the burlesque charge on which I was to be tried! There was not even a stool to sit down on. Was I really to be confined in this dark hole until I could be taken before a magistrate on the following morning? I turned, and banged and kicked on the door in uncontrollable rage, and shouted at the top of my voice.

But there was no answer, and presently I desisted, determined to make the best of my situation.

I began to feel round the walls, and immediately came to a little obstacle, which with an immense lift of relief I recognized as an electric switch. I turned it, and the place was flooded with light. Then I discovered that I was not in a cell at all, but in a little lobby, in all four walls of which were doors.

I opened one, and found a deep cupboard, with hooks in it, but nothing else. I shut it and opened the next, and found myself on the threshold of a small but comfortably furnished parlour.

Opposite to the door was a window looking on to a strip of garden gay with flowers; but the window, which was of ordinary size, was guarded by thick iron bars. It was this fact that brought it home to me that, incredible as it might appear, this room, with a comfortable armchair by the window, with books on a shelf, and pictures on the prettily papered walls, was my prison cell, and not the narrow lobby into which I had first come.

The third door in the lobby led into a well-appointed bathroom, and leading out of the parlour was a little bedroom, with the sheets turned down on the bed, and a suit of pink pyjamas laid out all ready for its occupant.

It may be imagined that all this, following on what had already happened, puzzled me not a little; but since this convenient little self-contained flat was mine to make myself at home in until the following morning, I could, at any rate, take advantage of its amenities.

I was dusty and footsore, and very glad of a hot bath. As I lay steaming in it, I recalled the words of the policeman, before he had pressed the half-crown into my hand and shut me into the lobby: "By the look of your clothes you ought to be better treated."

Well, as for my clothes, they had certainly been made by a good tailor, but they were of well-nigh immemorial age, and were covered with dust and travel-stains. I wore also an aged green hat of soft felt, and a flannel shirt with a low collar and a whisp of an old tie; and my boots, white with dust, were an easy but unlovely pair that I kept for these expeditions. No, my clothes could not possibly have indicated any exalted station in life, nor even the moderate degree of gentility that was mine by birth and education. The man must have been sneering at me.

But then, what could he have meant by referring to better treatment? I was lodged like a coronation guest. Was it the habit of the authorities of this extraordinary town, whose identity puzzled me more and more, to house their prisoners like potentates, since my quarters were considered only fit to be apologized for? I could only give up the problem, and wait for what should happen next.

When I had had my bath, brushed the dust off my clothes, and put on a clean shirt and clean socks out of my pack, I began to feel hungry; and such was the effect upon me of my surroundings that I looked around me, almost without intention, for a bell. There was one by the mantelpiece, which I rang, and then waited with some curiosity for what should happen.

Within a very short time I heard the outer door being opened, and there came into the room a waiter with a napkin over his shoulder. Except that his clothes were seedy, and his shirt-front rather crumpled, he had the appearance of a servant at a would-be smart restaurant, ready to do what was wanted of him, but having no very high opinion of the person from whom he received his orders. However, he seemed to have anticipated my wants, for without a word he held out to me a bill of fare, and I accepted it with equal unconcern and looked over it.

It was of a fairly elaborate description, and as a precautionary measure, before making any selection, I said: "I suppose I don't have to pay for any of this?"

His lip curled as he replied: "Of course not. Choose whatever you like and put a tick against it."

Thus encouraged, I ordered a nice little dinner of clear soup, truite-au-bleu, lamb cutlets with new potatoes, a slice of ham with madeira sauce and spinach, a péche Melba, angels on horseback, and some strawberries to finish up with. He took the order without flinching, and asked: "Do you want any wine?"

"Well, yes," I said, "if there's nothing to pay for it."

He flushed angrily. "I don't want any of your impudence," he said. "You will pay nothing at all for anything you have as long as you are here, and if you are not very careful you will be here a good deal longer than you bargain for."

"I don't know that I should altogether object to that," I said, and took the wine list from him.

It was an excellent list, and under the circumstances I made excellent use of it. I allowed myself a glass of white Tokay, and another of Chateau d'Yquem, a pint of Pommery, 1900, and a bottle of '68 port to sit with later on. He looked more contemptuous than ever as he took the order, and asked disdainfully: "Don't you want a liqueur with your coffee?"

"I had forgotten that for the moment," I said. "Have you any very old brandy?"

"We have some eighteen-fifteen," he said; "but I need scarcely say we are very seldom asked for it."

"Well, on the terms that you have indicated, you are asked for it now," I said. "And I should like one or two really good cigars, fairly strong-something like the one that Mr. Perry was smoking this afternoon, if you can get them."

He went out of the room without a word, and carefully locked the outer door behind him. However inexplicable my treatment, I was not, at any rate, to forget that I was a prisoner.

Tired with my long walk, and the somewhat disturbing experiences I had been through, I fell fast asleep in the easy chair by the open window, through which came sweet wafts from a patch of night-scented stock in the garden outside.

I only awoke when the waiter brought in the first course of my dinner. He had laid the table without disturbing me, and had put a vase of roses in the middle and four tall candles at the corners, with rose-coloured shades.

"I'm sorry I haven't brought my evening clothes," I said, as I took my seat.

He made no reply to this pleasantry, and his air of high superiority began to annoy me.

"Do you generally wait upon prisoners in this way?" I asked him, when he brought in the fish.

"We do in the case of prisoners who look like gentlemen and behave like pigs," was his surprising reply, which I turned over in my mind before I said: "This seems a topsy-turvy place altogether, but I should really like to know how I have behaved like a pig."

"You can wallow in your hoggishness as much as you like," he said acidly, "but if you have the impudence to address any more remarks to me, I'll punch your head for you."

I looked round at him, standing attentively behind my chair. He was a frail man, and looked hungry.

"You might find that two could play at that game," I said, with my eye on him; and he flushed, but did not flinch.

"Is that a threat?" he asked. "Because if it is--;" and he turned as if to leave the room.

As I didn't know what, in the general reversal of things, might be the punishment here for threatening to retaliate on a waiter who proposed to punch one's head, and I wanted to finish my dinner, I said: "If you're disinclined for conversation you can have your own way."

We went through the rest of the ménu in silence, I enjoying the good things provided for me, and he serving me with the readiest attention to the matter in hand. We did not address another word to each other until he had carefully poured out from its basket-cradle a glass of the wonderful port.

I sipped it, and thought it just in the very least touched, and told him so. He took the glass, sniffed at the wine, and tasted it. "It's absolutely right," he said, "but of course you can have another bottle if you like."

"Thank you," I said, and began to wonder, rather uneasily, as he was away fetching it, if in some way I was not to pay pretty dearly for the remarkable treatment I was undergoing.

The second bottle of port was beyond criticism. When I had expressed my approval, the waiter put it on a little table by the side of the extremely easy chair, and indicated, but without saying so, that he wished to clear away. This he did, in complete silence; but before he finally left the room came over to where I was standing, and, holding out half a sovereign, said, still with the same inflection of contempt: "That's for yourself."

I took the coin in my hand, and said, somewhat after the manner of a cabman who has been offered twopence for a pour boire: "What do you call this?"

He flushed again, took it back, gave me half a crown instead, and then left the room.

My evening in prison had so far brought me a dinner such as I seldom enjoyed, and five shillings in money. Why, but for my last question, it would have brought me seven and sixpence more, I was quite unable to imagine.

* * *

The cigars provided for me, if not of the exact brand as those smoked by Mr. Perry, were very good, and I had been enjoying one of them for some little time when I heard the outside door again being unlocked.

"Now," I thought, "I may get some explanation of this extraordinary state of affairs, and may possibly find myself wishing that my entertainment had not cost the ratepayers of this town quite so much money."

But I was in a state of such complete bodily satisfaction that I did not much care what should happen, and sat still until the door of my room was opened and a young man dressed in evening clothes came in.

He seemed to be under the influence of some agitation, and as the reek of my cigar met his nostrils, and his eyes fell upon my bottle of port resting in its cradle, his jaw dropped.

He raised his eyes to mine, and said: "I have come to make an appeal to you, sir."

"Well, sit down and make it," I said, indicating a chair. "Will you have a glass of wine-I can recommend it-or a cigar?"

He looked at me sternly. "I have brought myself to come and ask a favour of you," he said. "You look like a gentleman; you can at least try to behave as such."

I was in that comfortable state in which the idiosyncrasies of other people occasion one more amusement than surprise. I was also a little inclined to loquacity. I smiled at him.

"I don't pretend to understand you," I said; "but I am glad you think I look like a gentleman. I am one. My great-grandfather ruined himself at Crockford's, and although one of my great-uncles set up a shop, he never sold anything, and died poor. I am poor myself, but none the less deserving."

His face brightened a little. "I thought you were a gentleman," he said, "in spite of your behaviour. So am I, and of course my father too, although you might not think it from our appearance. Possibly you are engaged in the same good work as we are."

"I am not engaged in any good work at present," I said, "except that of making myself as comfortable as circumstances will permit. As for you, I think you look very gentlemanlike; I don't think I have had the pleasure of meeting your father."

"He is Mr. Perry," he said, "who tried his utmost to save you from the results of your jest-I don't believe it meant more than that-with Lord Potter. As far as my father was concerned it was an unfortunate jest; and I might say the same as far as you are concerned, to judge from your present serious situation. In spite of his noble and self-sacrificing life, my father is misunderstood by a good many people; and Lord Potter, for one, would like to see his career of usefulness stopped. Now he has a handle against him. He is to be called as a witness when you come up before the magistrate to-morrow morning; and it rests with you whether that kind and good old man, whose life is a lesson to us all, shall be arrested himself and suffer the disgrace of a criminal trial. Surely you cannot be so lost to all sense of gratitude as to bring that about!"

I did not know in the least what he was talking about. His ideas seemed to be as topsy-turvy as those of the rest of the people I had so far met in this curious place. But I was in too lazy a mood to make much effort to get at the bottom of all that was puzzling me.

"I should hate to get your father into trouble," I said. "I don't understand why a prosperous-looking elderly gentleman should pinch my watch and demand all my cash; but I dare say he did it all for the best, and as he didn't get anything, I am prepared to be lenient with him. I'll do what I can."

He thanked me profusely. "You have only to stand on your dignity and refuse to answer questions, and they can prove nothing against him," he said.

"All right! Anything to oblige. You might tell me what all this means, though; and to begin with, what town this is; for I haven't the slightest idea where I am."

At this quite ordinary question, he seemed to be even more puzzled than I was. "I can't understand you," he said, and it was plain by the expression on his face that he spoke the truth. "Where do you come from?"

"I come from a little place called London," I said. "I don't know whether you have ever heard of it."

"No, never," he replied. "What part of the country is it in?"

"Do you ever happen to have heard of England?" I asked; and again he said: "No, never."

"Well, what country are we in now?" I asked, willing to humour him.

"Why, in Upsidonia, of course."

"In what?"

"Upsidonia. Look here, I'm not what I seem to be. Surely you can tell that from the way I speak! Stop trying to play with me, and explain yourself."

"Tell me first what town this is."

"Culbut."

He said it in much the same tone as I might have answered "Manchester" or "Birmingham," to anyone who should have asked me the same question in either of those cities-with a look of surprise and enquiry.

"Oh, Culbut!" I said. "Yes, of course. And Culbut is in Upsidonia. I see. Well, in London, England, where I come from, they don't lock a person up for offering sixpence to a tramp, even when the tramp turns out to be a lord; and if they do lock them up, it isn't in a place like this."

He looked round the cosy little room with some disgust.

"It is disgraceful," he said. "My father ought to know about it. I didn't know there were any such places left. You've a perfect right to make trouble about this. It is a clear case for the Prisoners' Aid Society, and I'm sure, if you act properly, as you promised to, for my father, he will take up the case."

"Thanks very much," I said. "I have no particular complaint to make. The manners and customs of-what's the name of the place?-Culbut-are different from those I've been accustomed to, but they don't seem to be entirely objectionable. Can you tell me what they will do, by the by, supposing I am found guilty of the charge brought against me-whatever it is-to-morrow!"

"Oh, we'll try and get you off. Your appearance is in your favour."

"Thank you. But tell me what they will do if I am found guilty."

"Well, there has been a good deal of it lately, and the police are determined to stamp it out. And Potter is rather high game to fly at, you must admit. He is determined to get you a month, which is the limit without bodily assault."

"Oh, a month!" I said, somewhat taken aback. "With hard labour?"

"I think we ought to be able to manage that. We'll try our best."

"That is very good of you indeed; but I shouldn't like you to put yourselves out at all."

"I'll tell you what," he said, with a laugh, "we will tell them that in the country you come from it isn't a crime to give your money away. Could you remember to stick to that story?"

"I dare say I might," I said, "if I tie a knot in my handkerchief. By the way, isn't it a crime here to take money from people, and watches, and so on?"

"A crime! Of course not. We should call that philanthropy."

"Oh, I see. Then your father is a philanthropist."

"Of course he is; one of the best known in Culbut. You don't really suppose he is the rich man he appears to be, do you?"

"I should have thought he might be fairly well off, if he has been practising philanthropy for any length of time."

"For a lifetime," he said reverentially. "I will tell you my father's story."

"Do!" I encouraged him. "I should like to hear it."

I lit another cigar. He cleared his throat and began.

* * *