I was about to offer my condolences, but, without waiting to hear what I had to say, he shuffled past me, and in a crab-like fashion began to ascend the staircase. I filled in the interval by strolling across to the fireplace and looking at the books which decorated the mantelpiece. They were a jolly lot, beginning with Webster's Dictionary, and working up through a rising grade of frivolity to Whitaker's Almanack, which last was carefully encased in a brown paper cover, as though to disguise its rather unseemly tendencies. I was just wondering which of them was the old gentleman's favourite reading when the sound of his returning steps became audible outside. A moment later he reappeared on the threshold. "If you will accompany me," he observed, "Mr. Drayton will see you." Placing my umbrella in the stand, I followed him up to the next landing, where he pushed open a door in front of us, and then stood back to allow me to enter. It was a large, lofty room, lighted by three long windows facing into Bedford Row. Apart from several rather dilapidated easy chairs and a number of black tin boxes, its only furniture appeared to be an enormous table, plentifully strewn with papers and one or two musty packets of deeds. Mr. Drayton, who was sitting at this table, rose on my entrance and stepped forward to meet me. He was a well-dressed man of about forty-five, with a strong, humorous face and a pair of very honest blue eyes. I took a fancy to him at once. "How d'you do, Mr. Dryden?" he said, offering me his hand. "You received my cable all right then?" "I did," I replied, exchanging grips with him, "and I've come along as soon as I could manage it. We only got in at eight o'clock this morning." He pulled forward an easy chair. "Sit down," he said; "sit down and make yourself comfortable. By the way, have a cigar?" He came back to the table, and, picking up a box of excellent-looking Larenagas, held them out for my inspection. "Well, I've only just this moment finished one," I said, "but still, that's no reason why I shouldn't have another." "Certainly not," he remarked cheerfully. "Anybody who can smoke two cigars running ought to take full advantage of the gift." He lighted one for himself, and then, pulling up a second chair, sat down opposite me. "I am sorry we were not able to communicate with you sooner," he began, in a rather more serious tone, "but as a matter of fact we had some difficulty in finding out your address. Your uncle seems to have known nothing about you beyond the bare fact of your existence." "I am not surprised," I said. "I was in much the same blissful position with regard to him."