The Professor, after a glance round the room, perceived the helplessness of his position. The man was clearly mad, but his mania was strictly limited. Upon most subjects he was sane as he was himself. He must perforce listen to what he had to say. Perhaps, during the time which this would occupy, he might be able to evolve a scheme for his capture. He walked across the room and sat down in the chair which the Black Sailor pointed out to him.

The man immediately took the chair opposite. “Artists are naturally vain, Dr. Priestley,” he began, “and I think my exploits entitle me to consider myself an artist. I have long promised myself the pleasure of recounting them to one who would appreciate their ingenuity, and you are the very man for such a purpose. I have, I believe, read everything that you have written, and I have understood a nature which revels in ingenious methods. I flatter myself that what I have to tell you will, at least, not bore you.”

“I shall be extremely interested to hear it,” replied the Professor quietly.