All I recollect further is that I sank suddenly into a big arm-chair, while my host's face grinned demoniacally in complete satisfaction. I slowly lapsed into blank unconsciousness. Little did I at the time dream with what amazing cleverness the trap into which I had fallen had been baited. But what happened to me further I will endeavour to describe to you. CHAPTER THE SECOND THE SISTER'S STORY A strange sensation crept over me, for I suddenly felt that my brain, dazed by that subtle odour of _pot-pourri_, was slowly unclouding--ever so slowly--until, to my amazement, I found myself seated upon a garden chair on a long veranda which overlooked a sloping garden, with the blue-green sunlit sea beyond. Of the lapse of time I have no idea to this day; nor have I any knowledge of what happened to me. All I am able to relate is the fact that I found myself in overcoat and hat seated upon a long terrace in the noon sunlight of winter. I gazed around, utterly astonished. The clothes I wore seemed coarse and unfamiliar. My hand went to my chin, when I found that I had grown a beard! My surroundings were strange and mysterious. The houses on either side were white and inartistic, with sloping roofs and square windows. They were foreign--evidently French! The shrill siren of a factory sounded somewhere, releasing the workers. Far away before me a steamer away on the horizon left a long trail of smoke behind, while here and there showed the brown sails of fishing boats. I rose from my seat, filled with curiosity, and glanced at the house before which I stood. It was a big square building of red brick with many square windows. It seemed like a hospital or institution. That it was the former was quickly revealed, for a few moments after I had risen, a nursing-sister in a tri-winged linen head-dress appeared and spoke kindly to me, asking in French how I felt on that glorious morning. "I am quite all right," was my reply in French. "But where am I?" I inquired, utterly dazed. "Never mind, m'sieur, where you are," replied the stout, middle-aged woman in blue uniform and broad collar. "You have only to get better." "But I am better," I protested. "I lost consciousness in London--and now I awake here to find myself--where?" "You are in good hands, so why trouble?" asked the Sister very kindly. "You are upset, I know. Do not worry. Take things quite easily. Do not try to recall the past." "The past!" I cried. "What has passed--eh? What has happened since I went through Stretton Street the other night?" The Sister smiled at me. She seemed inclined to humour me--as she would a child. "Do not perturb yourself, I beg of you," she said in a sympathetic voice. "There is really no need for it. Only just remain calm--and all will be right." "But you do not explain, Sister," I said. "Why am I here? And where am I?" I asked, gazing vacantly around me.