"No; my enemy," he replied. "You, Mr. Holford, as an Englishman, will no doubt think it impossible that I may be arrested, tried in secret, and sent to penal servitude for life for a crime of which I am innocent. You believe that every man in this isle of unrest of ours must have a fair trial by judge and jury. Yet I tell you that there are exceptions. There are certain men in England who would never be brought before a criminal court. I am one of them." At first I was inclined to regard Kirk as a madman, yet on looking into his face I saw an expression of open earnestness, and somehow I felt that he was telling me the curious truth. "I certainly thought there were no exceptions," I said. "I am one of the few," he replied. "They dare not place me in a criminal dock." "Why?" "For certain reasons"--and he smiled mysteriously--"reasons which you, if you become my friend, may some day discover. I live here in this by-road of a London suburb, but this is not my home. I have another--a long way from here." And, turning from me suddenly, he addressed questions to Joseph, asking him his opinion of me. "Where's your coat?" screeched the bird. "Where's your coat? Good night!" The whole scene was strangely weird and incongruous. Kirk at one moment speaking of a remarkable tragedy and at the next chaffing his pet. At last, however, I fixed my host to the point, and asked him straight out what had occurred. "Well," he said, placing down his pipe and resting His protruding chin upon his right hand, as he gazed across at me, "just follow me for a few moments, and I'll describe, as best I can, all that is known of the affair--or, rather, all I know of it. Do you happen to know Sussex Place, Regent's Park?" I replied in the affirmative. It was, as you probably know yourself, a highly respectable crescent of large houses overlooking the park. Entrance was gained from the road in the rear, for the houses faced the park, perhaps one of the pleasantest rows of residences in London. The occupiers were mostly City merchants or well-to-do ladies. "Well," he said, "in one of those houses there has lived for the past five years or so Professor Ernest Greer, the well-known chemist, who, among other appointments, holds the Waynflete Professorship of Chemistry at Oxford University. Though his age is only about fifty-five, his whole career has been devoted to scientific research, with the result that he has amassed a considerable fortune from royalties gained from the new process he patented four years ago for the hardening of steel. I dare say you've often seen his name mentioned in the papers. He was a most popular man, and, with his daughter Ethelwynn, often went into society. In addition to the Regent's Park house, they had a pretty seaside cottage down at Broadstairs."