He must know the happenings of the afternoon.

* * * * *

That evening, after dinner, while sitting with Zura in the living-room,
I eagerly listened for Page's step in the hall. Soon it came, and as we
arose to greet him I was made more anxious by his fever-bright eyes.

I was reassured, however, when he replied to my inquiries by saying:
"Quite all right, thank you. Head gets a bit rocky at times, but that
does not matter. Awfully sorry I was unable to be among those present at
Miss Jane's tea party. Tell me all about it--the guests and the
costumes."

Though he walked about the room, picking up books and small objects only
to lay them quickly down, he gave the closest attention to Zura as she
eagerly gave her account of the afternoon.

I was about to interrupt with a request to Page to come with me for a
private conference in the dining-room, when a summons came for me to go
at once to the house in the garden where Ishi lived. The messenger
thought Ishi was very ill, or gone crazy. I found him very drunk.
Standing in the middle of the room, with rows of rare orchids ranged
around the walls, he was waving a sharp-bladed weapon while executing a
sword dance. In between steps he made speeches to the plants, telling
them how their blessed brothers and sisters had had their heads cut off
by a silly girl on whom he would have vengeance. He had sworn by his
blood at the temple.

It required me a good hour to reduce him to submission and to sleep.
When I returned to the house Page Hanaford was gone. I was disappointed
enough to cry. Zura said that the next morning was the time for him to
go to the Government office to fill out the papers required for his
position at the Normal College, and that he must make his last
preparation for this. He asked her to say to me that he would accept the
offer I had made to go with him as interpreter and would call for me on
his way down.

"But," I asked almost peevishly, "what made him go so soon?"

"I am not sure. Maybe he wanted to study. Or, it may be, I made his head
ache. I did talk a lot. I told him everything--about the babies in the
bath and Jane's sermon and your detective."

"Oh, Zura!" I said helplessly.

"Yes, I did. Why not?"

She leaned 'way over and looked at me steadily. Then with something of
her old passion she cried: "Listen to me, Ursula! Don't you dare think
Page Hanaford guilty of crime! There isn't anything wrong with him. I