Watson! Yes: it appears that while I slept--I feel sure that they must have rubbed some more of the drug on my lips while I was unconscious, or I never could have slept so heavily or so long--they dressed up Watson in the mask, feet, hands, and cloak; set the hat on her head, gagged her, and placed her beside me in the attitude occupied by the man. They had then, at the next station, got out, taking with them dressing-case and clock, and had made off in all security. When I arrive in Paris, you will not be surprised to hear that it does not once occur to me whether I am looking green or no. And this is the true history of my night journey to Paris! You will be glad, I daresay, to learn that I ultimately recovered my sapphires, and a good many of my other ornaments. The police being promptly set on, the robbers were, after much trouble and time, at length secured; and it turned out that the man in the cloak was an ex-valet of my husband’s, who was acquainted with my bad habit of travelling in company with my trinkets--a bad habit which I have since seen fit to abandon. * * * * * What I have written is literally true, though it did not happen to myself. THE END. BILLING, PRINTER, GUILDFORD, SURREY. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. An incorrect page number in the Table of Contents has been corrected.