This was so like Twickenham that it set me thinking. Indeed, as the conversation between the pair proceeded I became more and more puzzled to find an answer to the question--Who is the man in the bed? Foster stuck to his guns. 'Has your lordship made a will?' 'I hate wills.' 'Possibly; yet they are necessary instruments. If you have not already made a will, you must make one now. Your lordship will tell me how you wish matters to stand. I will draw up a brief, yet sufficient form, which you can complete at once.' 'Kick him, Doug.' This was again so like Twickenham that I had no option but to smile. Foster surveyed me with grave disapprobation. He drew me a little apart. 'This is no laughing matter, Mr. Howarth. I believe you represent Lord Reginald's interests. I can only tell you that they will be very seriously imperilled if we are not able to show that he has been formally appointed his brother's heir. You have witnessed the Marquis's refusal to answer my question as to whether he is or is not married. What meaning does that refusal convey to your mind?' 'None whatever. It's just Twickenham--that's all; and you know it.' 'But suppose he has a wife and children.' 'He hasn't.' 'Then why doesn't he say so?' 'Because he never would impart information to any one, on any subject whatever. Have you forgotten that that was one of his many forms of crankiness?' 'Still it is not outside the bounds of possibility that he has a wife and, say, a son. If they appeared upon the scene, with no will in existence, they would have everything. Lord Reginald would have nothing at all.' 'That would be hard on Reggie.' 'If you have his real interests at heart--which I have no reason to doubt'--he grinned--'you will assist me in persuading the Marquis to express his wishes in proper form--that is, make a will--without further delay. At present he is perfectly capable of doing so; but an hour may make all the difference, and if he dies intestate Lord Reginald will have plenty of trouble in front of him.' Complications were crowding on me in a fashion which was unexpected. I had never counted on Mr. Babbacombe's having to make a will. There was sound sense in what Foster said; on the other hand, considerable risk might attend my urging Mr. Babbacombe to commit forgery. Always supposing, that is, he was not Twickenham. If he was, why, then----