stened his lips and stood up.

"My memory is constantly at fault," he said, avoiding Hartley's eyes and
looking at the ground. "I would not like to make any specific statement
without--without--reference to my note-book."

Hartley stared in astonishment.

"This is only a small matter, Heath. I was trying to get round to my
point in the usual way, by giving no actual indication of what I wanted
to know. You see, if you tell a man what you want, he sometimes imagines
that what he did on another day is what really happened on the actual
occasion, and that, as you can imagine, makes our job very difficult. I
don't want to bother you, but as your name was mentioned to me in
connection with a certain investigation, I wished to test the truth of
my man's statement."

Heath stood in the same attitude, his face pale and his eyes steadily
lowered.

"It might be well for you to be more clear," he said, after a long
pause.

"Did you go down Paradise Street just after sunset?"

"I may have done so. I have several parishioners along the river bank."

"Why the devil is he talking like this and looking like this?" Hartley
asked himself, impatiently.

"I'm not a cross-examining counsel," he said, with some sharpness. "As
I told you before, Heath, it is only a very small matter."

The Rev. Francis Heath gripped the back of his chair and a slight flush
mounted to his face.

"I resent your questions, Mr. Hartley. What I did or did not do on the
evening of July the twenty-ninth can in no way affect you. I entirely
refuse to be made to answer anything. You have no right to ask me, and I
have no intention of replying."

Hartley put his hand out in dismay.

"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one
man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you
to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is
nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown."

Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's
head, his dark eyes burning and his face set.

"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did
you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's
assistant?"

The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer.

"Did you see him?"

"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did
see the boy."

"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if
you saw hi