The lowering of the register, however, would make noise. Things were better as they were. While I was completing all these arrangements I was on the alert for the least sound from the other room. Again and again I paused, ready to make for the door and be out of the house before he could reach me. I had placed a chair in such a position in front of his door that he would be bound to trip over it if he came out in a hurry. Lastly came the most difficult part of my task. I had to remove the chair and open his bedroom door slightly. I listened long and carefully till a snore assured me that it was safe. I leant across the chair and opened the door a little way. The heavy breathing in the bed stopped. For one moment I felt terror; the next moment he had snored again. I removed the chair. The striking of a match might have betrayed me. I lit a piece of paper at the fire and held it to the soaked curtains. Then I was out of the room like a shot and downstairs. As I glanced back the room was already full of flame. When I emerged into the streets I looked carefully up and down. There was not a policeman to be seen. I reached my rooms and went to bed. I wish I could boast of such a nerve as would have allowed me to sleep through the night. The next morning I started for the City at the usual time. I scanned the morning paper, but there was nothing about a fire in Albemarle Street. At lunch-time the first thing that met my gaze as I left the office was a placard issued by one of the earlier and cheaper evening papers:—‘Gentleman suffocated in Albemarle Street.’ With an extraordinary calm I read that about three a.m. a fire occurred at the chambers of the Hon. Ughtred Gascoyne, resulting in the death of that gentleman, who was well known in social and sporting circles. His servant, who slept on the floor above, was awakened by the smell of smoke, and getting out of bed and hurrying to the top of the stairs to arouse his master was driven back by the flames and smoke. He was subsequently rescued by a fire escape from the top storey. On the fire being extinguished the unfortunate gentleman was discovered in his bed. He must have been suffocated in his sleep. I put down the paper with satisfaction and ate a good lunch. I had at any rate not inflicted any great physical suffering. Mr. Gascoyne came back from his lunch looking very white. “It’s a most awful thing, Israel. There seems to be a curse on our family.” “Why, sir, what is the matter now?” “You know my cousin Ughtred?” “Yes.” “The poor fellow has been suffocated in his bed.” I appeared horrified. “You don’t mean to say at his rooms in Albemarle Street?” “Yes.” I looked terribly concerned. “He was to have been married quite soon.” “So I understood. Mrs. Goodsall, the actress, wasn’t it?” “Yes.” “Curiously enough, I met him yesterday at the club of a friend of mine. I hadn’t seen him for years.”