was the hour of lamp lighting when the mate arrived at Government
House to lay his quest before a genial and elephantine official in white
ducks who was by way of being an acquaintance and who beamed upon him
from the step. "You los' somebody? Here? My dear fallow, do you sink you
are in Calcutta or Kowloon? Nosing happens here to sailormen or whoever.
Why, zis is not even semicivilize', wizout one coffee shop!... Unless,
of course, he actually injuries ze people."

"Ah," said Nivin.

"In zeir pride," added De Haan reflectively.

"And if he did?"

De Haan smoothed a glossy beard with a deliberate hand the size of a
spade. He was controller in a district of some tens of thousands of
brown population and long had been, and his father before him.

"If he did--I cannot say," he answered. "In such affairs we always
remember zese folk haf been alife in ze land a few years before us. Who
shall say? But it would be somesing fitting--mos' fitting and
op-propriate. Zere was once a man came to steal liddle stone pictures
from old temples in ze hills. He wanted ze heads for souvenirs, you
see?" He rocked complacently. "I haf seen his head, nicely smoked. Which
was alzo a souvenir."

But he met Nivin's melancholy gaze and his tone changed.

"You tell me you los' your frien' at Lol Raman's? Haf you been to look?"

"Three times. There's no trace. I found a servant who sold the lad
drink; no more."

"Come wit' me, zen," said the controller. "And do not half such trouble
at heart. We will find him. He is only schleeping off zat fever cure."

They searched high and low, among the terraces and through the water
front where De Haan questioned all manner of natives: stolid,
self-possessed little men who looked him between the eyes at
answering--but they found no nook wherein Tunstal might be slumbering,
nor any clue, and Nivin's lean jaw lengthened.

"Your fren' was come alone?" asked De Haan, puzzled.

"Alone and early. There wouldn't likely be any other customer at that
time. No witnesses."

"It is all right now--do not be tragic. Nosing of ze kind could be. We
will see ze garden again."...

But all they saw was no aid to the case. They entered the garden of Lol
Raman to find it disposed as usual, inviting the evening trade. Paper
lanterns swung among the trees like phosphorescent fruits and drew a
myriad fluttering moths. As if the glow had drawn them too, a few
visitors lounged at ease about the tables, sipping and murm