"Look here," said he, "let's be straight with one another. I can't answer your questions. Now if you are a man of sense, as I take you to be, and not a man like those others, who think everyone but themselves is mad, you will recognize _why_ I can't answer your questions. I'm not Rochester. I thought I'd get out of here by pretending that I'd played a practical joke on those guys; it was a false move, I acknowledge it, but when I fixed on the idea, I didn't know the man I had to deal with. If you will listen to my story, I will tell you in a few words how all this business came about." "Go on," said Hoover. Jones told, and Hoover listened and when the tale was over, at the end of a quarter of an hour or so, Jones scarcely believed it himself. It sounded crazy. Much more crazy than when he had told it to the Duke of Melford and the reason of this difference was Hoover. There was something in Hoover's eye, something in his make up and personality, something veiled and critical, that destroyed confidence. "I have asked them to make enquiries," finished Jones, "if they will only do that everything will be cleared up." "And you may rest content we will," said Hoover. "Now for another thing," said Jones. "Till I leave this place, which will be soon, I hope, may I ask you to tell that confounded attendant not to be always watching me. I don't know whether you think me mad or sane, think me mad if you like, but take it from me, I'm not going to do anything foolish, but if anything would drive me crazy, it would be feeling that I am always watched like a child." Hoover paused a moment. He had a large experience of mental cases. Then he said: "You will be perfectly free here. You can come downstairs and do as you like. We have some very nice men staying here and you are free to amuse yourself. I'll just ask you this, not to go outside the grounds till your health is perfectly established. This is not a prison, it's a sanatorium. Colonel Hawker is here for gout and Major Barstowe for neuritis, got it in India. You will like them. There are several others who make up my household--you can come on down with me now--are you a billiard player?" "Yes, I can play--but, see here, before we go down, where is this place?--I don't even know what part of the country it's in." "Sandbourne-on-sea," replied Hoover, leading the way from the room. Now in London on the night before, something had happened. Dr. Simms, at a dinner-party, given by Doctor Took of Bethlem Hospital had, relative to the imagination of lunatics, given an instance: "Only to-day," said Simms, "I had a case in point. A man gave me as his supposed address, one thousand one hundred and ninety one, Walnut Street, Philadelphia." "But there is a Walnut Street, Philadelphia," said Took, "and it's ten miles long, and the numbers run up well towards that." Half an hour later, Simms got into his carriage. "Savoy Hotel, Strand," said he to the coachman. CHAPTER XXII AN INTERLUDE