During his fourth period of incarceration he made chemistry his long suit; but here again fortune deserted him, and no nearer could he get to his reading of the science than to secure the loan of a Squire and a Materia Medica. Amber, at the time I describe, was between twenty-eight and thirty years of age, a little above medium height, well built, though he gave you the impression of slightness. His hair was a reddish yellow, his eyes grey, his nose straight, his mouth and chin were firm, and he was ready to show two rows of white teeth in a smile, for he was easily amused. The lower part of his face was now unshaven, which detracted from his appearance, but none the less he was, even in the ugly garb of his bondage, a singularly good-looking young man. There was the sound of a key at the door, and he rose as the lock snapped twice and the door swung outward. “75,” said an authoritative voice, and he stepped out of the cell into the long corridor, standing to attention. The warder, swinging his keys at the end of a bright chain, pointed to the prisoner’s shoes neatly arranged by the cell door. “Put ’em on.” Amber obeyed, the warder watching him. “Why this intrusion upon privacy, my Augustus?” asked the kneeling Amber. The warder, whose name was not Augustus, made no reply. In earlier times he would have “marked” Amber for insolence, but the eccentricities of this exemplary prisoner were now well known, besides which he had some claim to consideration, for he it was who rescued Assistant Warder Beit from the fury of the London Gang. This had happened at Devizes County Gaol in 1906, but the prison world is a small one, and the fame of Amber ran from Exeter to Chelmsford, from Lewes to Strangeways. He marched with his custodian through the corridor, down a polished steel stairway to the floor of the great hall, along a narrow stone passage to the Governor’s office. Here he waited for a few minutes, and was then taken to the Governor’s sanctum. Major Bliss was sitting at his desk, a burnt little man with a small black moustache and hair that had gone grey at the temples. With a nod he dismissed the warder. “75,” he said briefly, “you are going out to-morrow, on a Home Office order.” “Yes, sir,” said Amber. The Governor was thoughtfully silent for a moment, drumming his fingers noiselessly on his blotting-pad. “What are you going to do?” he demanded suddenly. Amber smiled. “I shall pursue my career of crime,” he said cheerfully, and the Governor frowned and shook his head. “I can’t understand you--haven’t you any friends?” Again the amused smile. “No, sir.” Amber was even more cheerful than before. “I have nobody to blame for my detection but myself.” The Major turned over some sheets of paper that lay before him, read them, and frowned again. “Ten convictions!” he said. “A man of your capacity--why, with your ability you might have been----”