As I open the door I have to restrain myself from laughing. I am sure that in their minds they form a righteous mob, but the way they all take a step back as I open the door reveals their fear for what it is.

I present the cheque and gold to the man who first apprehended me, but still he isn't happy.

'Now see here, ' he starts, screwing up his courage, 'this whole business looks apocryphal.' And then bluster, 'A man does not, in real life, walk into a cellar door at four in the morning and come out of it with another man's cheque for close upon a hundred pounds.'

I could have pointed out that this was real life and that I had done exactly as he described, but I didn't think he would see the funny side, so instead I let the other placate him. 'Set your mind at rest,' I say, 'I will stay with you till the banks open and cash the cheque myself.'

And so we head for his lodgings, myself, my accuser, the doctor - who surely should be off somewhere curing people - and some of the child's family. They gather round me, like guards, in one of the rooms to wait for night to end and the bank to open.

I sleep.