"Nothing," said Simms, "you are perfectly free, but we don't want you to go out till your health is perfectly restored. I know, you will say that you feel all right. No matter, take a physician's advice and just remain here quiet for a little while. Shall we go to the library where you can amuse yourself with the newspaper or a book whilst I make up a little prescription for you?" "Look here," said Jones. "Let's talk quietly for a moment--you think I'm mad." "Not in the least!" said Simms. "You are only suffering from a nerve upset." "Well, if I'm not mad you have no right to keep me here." This was cunning, but, unfortunately, cunning like anger, is an attribute of madness as well as of sanity. "Now," said Simms, with an air of great frankness, "do you think that it is for our pleasure that we ask you to stay here for a while? We are not keeping you, just asking you to stay. We will go down to the library and I will just have a prescription made up. Then, when you have considered matters a bit you can use your own discretion about going." Jones recognized at once that there was no use in trying to fight this man with any other weapon than subtlety. He was fairly trapped. His tale was such that no man would believe it, and, persisting in that tale, he would be held as a lunatic. On top of the tale was Rochester's bad reputation for sanity. They called him mad Rochester. Then as he rose up and followed to the library, a last inspiration seized him. He stopped at the drawing-room door. "Look here," said he, "one moment. I can prove what I say. You send out a man to Philadelphia and make enquiries, fetch some of the people over that knew me. You'll find I'm--myself and that I've told you no lie." "We will do anything you like," said Simms, "but first let us go down to the library." They went. It was a large, pleasant room lined with books. Simms sat down at the writing-table, whilst the others took chairs. He wrote a prescription, and the Duke, ringing the bell, ordered a servant to take the prescription to the chemists. Then during the twenty minutes before the servant returned they talked. Jones, giving again his address, that fantastic address which was yet real, and the names and descriptions of people he knew and who would know him.