s he sat in his writing-room. It was gloomy there, and the palm trees
outside tossed and swayed, and the low mist wraiths down in the valley
clung and folded like cotton-wool, hiding the town and covering it up to
the very top spires of the cathedral. Hartley was making out a report on
a case of dacoity against a Chinaman, but the light in the room was bad,
and he pushed back his chair impatiently and shouted to the boy to bring
a lamp.

His tea was set out on a small lacquer table near his chair, and his
fox-terrier watched him with imploring eyes, occasionally voicing his
feelings in a stifled bark. The boy came in answer to his call, carrying
the lamp in his hands, and put it down near Hartley, who turned up the
wick, and fell to his reading again; then, putting the report into a
locked drawer, he drew his chair from the writing-table and poured out a
cup of tea.

He had every reason to suppose that his day's work was done, and that he
could start off for the Club when his tea was finished. The wind rattled
the palm branches and came in gusts through the veranda, banging doors
and shaking windows, and the evening grew dark early, with the
comfortless darkness of rain overhead, when the wheels of a carriage
sounded on the damp, sodden gravel outside. Hartley got up and peered
through the curtain that hung across the door. Callers at such an hour
upon such a day were not acceptable, and he muttered under his breath,
feeling relieved, however, when he saw a fat and heavy figure in Burmese
clothing get out from the _gharry_.

"If that is anyone to see me on business, say that this is neither the
place nor the hour to come," he shouted to the boy, and returning to the
tea-table, poured out a saucer of milk for the eager terrier, now
divided between his duties as a dog and his feelings as an animal.

The boy reappeared after a pause, bearing a message to the effect that
Mhtoon Pah begged an immediate interview upon a subject so pressing that
it could not wait.

Hartley listened to the message, swore under his breath, and looked
sharply at Mhtoon Pah when he came into the room. Usually the curio
dealer had a smile and a suave, pleasant manner, but on this occasion
all his suavity was gone, and his eyes, usually so inexpressive and
secret, were lighted with a strange, wolfish look of anger and rage that
was almost suggestive of insanity.

He bowed before the Head of the Police and began to talk in broken,
gasping word