gents for position as
caretaker. Some furniture was found for him, and the empty house in
Gower Street became his shelter. The immediate present thus provided
for, kindly old Deleglise worried himself a good deal concerning what
would become of his friend when the house was let. There appeared to be
no need for worry. Weeks, months went by. Applications were received
by the agents in fair number, view cards signed by the dozen; but
prospective tenants were never seen again. One Sunday evening our poet,
warmed by old Deleglise's Burgundy, forgetful whose recommendation
had secured him the lowly but timely appointment, himself revealed the
secret.

"Most convenient place I've got," so he told old Deleglise. "Whole house
to myself. I wander about; it just suits me."

"I'm glad to hear that," murmured old Deleglise.

"Come and see me, and I'll cook you a chop," continued the other. "I've
had the kitchen range brought up into the back drawing-room; saves going
up and down stairs."

"The devil you have!" growled old Deleglise. "What do you think the
owner of the house will say?"

"Haven't the least idea who the poor old duffer is myself. They've put
me in as caretaker--an excellent arrangement: avoids all argument about
rent."

"Afraid it will soon come to an end, that excellent arrangement;"
remarked old Deleglise, drily.

"Why? Why should it?"

"A house in Gower Street oughtn't to remain vacant long."

"This one will."

"You might tell me," asked old Deleglise, with a grim smile; "how do you
manage it? What happens when people come to look over the house--don't
you let them in?"

"I tried that at first," explained the poet, "but they would go on
knocking, and boys and policemen passing would stop and help them. It
got to be a nuisance; so now I have them in, and get the thing over.
I show them the room where the murder was committed. If it's a
nervous-looking party, I let them off with a brief summary. If that
doesn't do, I go into details and show them the blood-spots on the
floor. It's an interesting story of the gruesome order. Come round one
morning and I'll tell it to you. I'm rather proud of it. With the blinds
down and a clock in the next room that ticks loudly, it goes well."

Yet this was a man who, were the merest acquaintance to call upon him
and ask for his assistance, would at once take him by the arm and lead
him upstairs. All notes and cheques that came into his hands he changed
at once into