Most people who know me would tell you that it might be considered consistent with my character that I still occupied the same apartments in the private hotel, off the Strand, in which I had domiciled myself when I first arrived in England.  If I am made comfortable I prefer to stick to my quarters, and the hotel in question was a quiet one; the cooking and the service were excellent, and, as every one did his, or her, best for me, I saw no sort of reason for moving elsewhere.  It is something in such matters to know the people with whom one has to deal, and in my case I could not have been better cared for had I been a crowned head.  I suppose I am a bit of a faddist in these things.  Except when business compels me to break through my rule, I rise at the same hour every morning, breakfast, lunch, and dine at the same time, and as far as possible retire to rest punctually at the usual moment.  After dinner in those days, things have changed since then somewhat.  I invariably smoked a cigar, and when the evening was fine, went for a stroll, returning between nine and ten and retiring to rest, unless I had anything to attend to, punctually at eleven.  On this particular occasion, the night being fine, though rather close, I lit my cigar in the hall and stepped out into the street exactly as the clock was striking eight.  I had a lot to think of, and felt just in the humour for a walk.  London at all hours is a fascinating study to me, and however much I see of her, I never tire of watching her moods.  After I left my hotel I strolled along the Embankment so far as the Houses of Parliament, passed the Abbey, made my way down Victoria Street, and then by way of Grosvenor Place to Hyde Park Corner.  Opposite Apsley House I paused to look about me.  I had my reasons for so doing, for ever since I had left the river-side, I had entertained the notion that I was being followed.  When I had crossed the road at the Houses of Parliament, two men, apparently of the loafer class, had crossed too.  They had followed me up Victoria Street, and now, as I stood outside the Duke of Wellington’s residence, I could see them moving about on the other side of the way.  What their intentions were I could not say, but that their object was to spy upon my movements, I was quite convinced.  In order to assure myself of this fact I resolved to lay a little trap for them.  Passing down Piccadilly at a sharp pace, I turned into Berkeley Street, some twenty yards or so ahead of them.  Crossing the road I sheltered myself in a doorway and waited.  I had not been there very long, before I observed that they had turned the corner and were coming along in hot pursuit.  That they did not notice me in my hiding-place is evident from the fact that they passed on the other side of the street, and doubtless thinking that they had missed me, commenced to run.  I thereupon quitted my friendly doorway, returned to Piccadilly, hailed a cab, and drove back to my hotel.  As I went I turned the matter over in my