case in the Adjutant-General's
office at Hong Kong."

"Hum!" said the sailor, turning on his heel to enter the chart-room.
This was no way to treat a real live lord, a personage of some
political importance, too, such as the Special Envoy to Wang Hai.
Evidently, Iris was no mean advocate. She had already won for the
"outcast" the suffrages of the entire ship's company.

The girl and her father went back to the island with Robert. After
taking thought, the latter decided to ask Mir Jan to remain in
possession until he returned. There was not much risk of another Dyak
invasion. The fate of Taung S'Ali's expedition would not encourage a
fresh set of marauders, and the Mahommedan would be well armed to meet
unforeseen contingencies, whilst on his, Anstruther's, representations
the _Orient_ would land an abundance of stores. In any event, it
was better for the native to live in freedom on Rainbow Island than to
be handed over to the authorities as an escaped convict, which must be
his immediate fate no matter what magnanimous view the Government of
India might afterwards take of his services.

Mir Jan's answer was emphatic. He took off his turban and placed it on
Anstruther's feet.

"Sahib," he said, "I am your dog. If, some day, I am found worthy to be
your faithful servant, then shall I know that Allah has pardoned my
transgressions. I only killed a man because--"

"Peace, Mir Jan. Let him rest."

"Why is he worshiping you, Robert?" demanded Iris.

He told her.

"Really," she cried, "I must keep up my studies in Hindustani. It is
quite too sweet."

And then, for the benefit of her father, she rattled off into a
spirited account of her struggles with the algebraic x and the Urdu
compound verb.

Sir Arthur Deane managed to repress a sigh. In spite of himself he
could not help liking Anstruther. The man was magnetic, a hero, an
ideal gentleman. No wonder his daughter was infatuated with him. Yet
the future was dark and storm-tossed, full of sinister threats and
complications. Iris did not know the wretched circumstances which had
come to pass since they parted, and which had changed the whole aspect
of his life. How could he tell her? Why should it be his miserable lot
to snatch the cup of happiness from her lips? In that moment of silent
agony he wished he were dead, for death alone could remove the burthen
laid on him. Well, surely he might bask in the sunshine of her laughter
for another day. No need to embit