I suppose I looked at him in a troubled way, as one not clearly understanding; he beat his fist upon the table, and cried out harshly at me. "Numbskull! Do you remember what position I occupied?" "You had money--you lived well--you had many friends," I began slowly; and he interrupted me impatiently. "Yes, I had friends--money--power," he exclaimed. "The world went well with me, and there were those who trembled at the sound of my voice. Indirectly you brought me to this," he added, waving his hand to indicate the poor room. "When you killed Gavin Hockley, you let loose a cloud of things that had better have been hidden; I had forgotten the possibility of that when I set you on to kill him." "I killed him because he spoke ill of a woman," I said, like one repeating a lesson. "You killed him because I had made up my mind that you should," he retorted. "However, that's neither here nor there. Hockley had left behind a cloud of debts; he had paper signed by me; he had letters of mine. Even in those first days, when you were in prison, the thing sprang up alive to confront me; men whispered those ugly words, forgery and fraud. You've not been the only prisoner, my fine fellow." "You?" I stared at him in amazement. He laughed disagreeably. "Yes, they shut me away for seven years; and I came out what you see me now--a man ruined and broken, without a friend in the world, and without any one to speak a good word for me. Those I had known were dead, or would not speak to me; I was too old to make new friends of the sort I had known before. So I've lived by my wits, Charles Avaline, just as you'll have to live. While you've been warm and well-cared for at the expense of your country, I've been down into the depths, and have seen strange things. And it's not a nice world for a man under those circumstances. One longs to get hold of another man, and to drag that other man down, and show him that bitter life too," he added savagely. "I--I'm sorry," I said vaguely; I did not know what else to say. "You see, I have not known what has been happening. In all the long time (they tell me it was twenty years)--in all the long time that I have been there I have not seen the face of any one I ever knew before; and I have not heard a voice that was a voice out of the past, save in dreams. And I never had a letter." "No--they forget you easily when you go under," said Fanshawe. "As for me, I thought they'd hang you; and by the time they hadn't done that I was too full of my own troubles. I suppose you'd like to know something about the old people and the old days--eh?" He thrust his face towards me across the table; his eyes were hungry. I did not understand then what was in the mind of the man; his brain was clear and strong, and his plans already well thought out. My brain was dull and tired, and I had no plans at all.