“They are not irreconcilable,” said he, taking a corn-cob pipe out of his pocket and filling it. “I am a burglar, and my father was one before me, but he was a perfectly honorable man. He never lied, and I never lie. I steal because that is my profession, but I make it a rule to tell the truth upon all occasions. Why, if the success of my venture to-night depended upon my lying to you, I’d immediately leave this place, as innocent of plunder as when I came in. Where’s the silver?” “Top drawer of the sideboard.” There was a magnetism, a bonhomie, about the man that captivated me. “Are you armed?” asked he, as he puffed at his pipe. “If I had been I’d have winged you before this,” said I, laughing. “I believe you, and I honor you for being perfectly frank with me.” “Why, as to that, I’m not to be outdone in frankness by a thief.” “That will make my task so much the easier. After I’ve finished this pipe I want you to give me your word that you’ll lie still until I’ve taken all I want.” I admired the man’s nerve, and I said: “For the time being I consider you my guest, and, Spanish fashion, my house is at your disposal.” “Don’t put it on that basis, or I will leave at once. This is no time for aping the Spanish.” “You are right. But I tell you candidly that I would far rather have found out that you were a liar than a burglar. Your lies would not be likely to injure me, but I’ll be out just so much by what you take. I’d much rather you were a liar.” “And I would not. If I steal, I do but take something that, to paraphrase Shakspere, was yours, is mine, and has been slave to thousands; but to lie would be to ‘lay perjury to my soul,’ and that I would not do, ‘no, not for Venice’!” [Illustration] “I see you know Shakspere,” said I, punching my pillow so that I could be more comfortable. I was reading this odd fellow, and I believed that I could dissuade him from his purpose. “Know Shakspere? I was an actor once.” I felt that I had him, for I know actors better than he knew Shakspere. “Did you ever play Hamlet?” I asked, sitting up in bed. “I did; and I made such a hit that if it hadn’t been for the venality of the press and my sense of honor, I would have been adjudged one of the greatest Hamlets of the day.” “Give me the soliloquy. I give you my word that ordinarily I’d rather be robbed than hear it, but I like your voice and I believe that you can do it justice.” A self-satisfied smile illuminated his face. He laid down the pipe and gave me the soliloquy, and it wasn’t bad. “Bully!” I said, when he had finished. “Why, man, you make an indifferent thief, else you would have decamped long ago; but the stage has lost an actor that would have in time compelled the unwilling admiration of the press.”