tiny, oblong package, bearing curious foreign
markings, its wrapper plainly addressed to me, but--

"By Jove! From China!" I ejaculated.

Somebody in far-off China sending me a present, with duties and charges
prepaid evidently.

What the deuce was it? I shook it without getting any revelation; then I
weighed it in my hand.

The thing was devilish light! In fact, so light that, allowing for
outside wrapper and box, dashed if I could see how there was anything at
all.

Then I had an awful thought: Suppose, by Jove, they had forgotten to
inclose the thing--whatever it was! Jolly tiresome, that, if they had. I
felt devilish annoyed.

Really, awfully provoking to do that sort of thing, you know; and I was
jolly sure now the dashed thing had been wrapped up empty. I wondered
what silly ass I knew in China who would be likely to do a thing like
that. I couldn't think of any one at all I knew in China, so I rang for
Jenkins.

"Anybody I know in China, Jenkins?" I asked. And to help him out, I
added: "Fact is, some chap's sent me a package, you know."

"Name on box, sir, perhaps." Said it offhand, just like that--no trouble
of thinking, dash it all--never even blinked. Just instinct, by Jove!

And there it was, nicely printed in the corner with a pen:

ROLAND MASTERMANN, GOVERNMENT HOUSE, HONG KONG, CHINA

I read it aloud--can't read anything, you know, unless I read it
aloud--and looked at Jenkins inquiringly. But he came right up to the
scratch; just seemed to get it from somewhere right out of the wall over
my head:

"Beg pardon, sir; but think it's that London gentleman--entertained you
at the Carlton when you were over the other side."

Mastermann! By Jove, so it was--I began to remember him now, because I
remembered his dinner, several of them, in fact, during the three years
I had lived over there, acquiring the English accent--manner, you
know--and all that sort of thing!

Mastermann--oh, yes, I had him, now! Jolly rum old boy, but entertaining
and clever--long hair, pink wart on jaw! And, by Jove, I had promised
him--promised him--what the deuce _was_ it I had promised him? Let me
see: he was something or other in the foreign office; yes, I had
that--and tremendously interested in mummies and psychical investigation
and rum sort of things like that, and--

"By Jove!" I ejaculated, as it came to me. "And for that reason he
wanted them to send him out to China."

"Beg pardon, sir," put in Jenkin