I said nothing for a little while, but merely pondered on the accidents of life in general, and in particular that accident which had led me to 7 Primrose Terrace, Regent's Park, to a respectable-looking house kept by refined twins, in which I was to live beneath a dying brigand and be forced into the position of his executor. "Does the prospect alarm you?" he asked. "Well," I said, "to be frank, it is not what I should have asked for. But," I added hastily, "you may continue your instructions: that is, if you are really certain that there is no one but myself to help you. Have you no lawyer?" "A lawyer witnessed my will quite recently," he said. "It is in order. You will perhaps go to him for its execution." "And what about your next-door neighbour, Spanton?" I said. He smiled grimly. "Then Lacey, the best of men and the most ingenious and helpful?" "Yes," he said, "I thought of Lacey. But he has too much to do; and I was afraid he might be too clever. He is impulsive. This topic is so delicate that impulse might ruin it. So," he smiled humorously, "I had your name put in the document." "Kismet," I replied; but Heaven knows I wished myself downstairs with my door carefully locked. I neither wanted to hear his story nor administer his ill-gotten estate. The whole thing was absurd. The chance of passing fellow-lodgers on the stairs and having the misfortune to appear benevolent and virtuous to their defective vision ought not to be permitted to lead to such embroilments as this. But I have ever been weak and acquiescent; and when I looked at his melancholy, wasted features, what else could I do? A dying Don Quixote--who would not be foolish for him? When I agreed he gave a great sigh of relief--probably at once the most tragic and satisfactory sound I shall ever hear--and held out his long, bony hand. "You can take it without fear," he said, smiling again; "when I said I was a thief I did not say all. There is such a thing as stealing your own. But listen. The story briefly is this: I was a well-to-do business man, unmarried and not very sociable. That was twenty and more years ago. Then a serious crisis came in my life of which I need say nothing, and I decided suddenly to leave civilization completely and begin all over afresh where the conditions were simpler. There was no disgraceful element in the matter. An event occurred which led to complete disillusionment setting in; I developed acute misanthropy and realized that England and I were incompatible. That is all. Many men--and perhaps many women--must have been through a similar experience; but not all are as free as I was to act.