the ogre whom I had expected to meet, I found myself being supported by a kindly spoken English gentleman, assisted to an easy-chair, and tucked up in rugs. A few waiters were in attendance, and the "ogre" was blaming himself for having asked me to call and see him, and begging my forgiveness, as he did not know that I was so ill. The "ogre" was Sir George Newnes. He listened patiently to all I had to say, went through my correspondence, ventured the opinion that certain actions directed against me were "monstrous," told me not to believe that the English Press would attack me without reason, and recommended me, as soon as I was well, to go ahead with my book and collect every scrap of evidence which I could in support of my own story. I have followed his advice, but the collecting of the little evidence which I have got has been no light task, groping as I was in the darkness of a twelve years' oblivion.
I must not forget either to acknowledge the handsome treatment which I have received at the hands of my publishers, who have kept me in funds, and with extraordinary patience awaited the completion of my narrative; but the absolute necessity of collecting proofs for what I state, in face of the threats dangling over my head, accounts for the long delay.
