it. So there
_were_ ghosts of 'rickshaws after all, and ghostly employments in the
other world! How much did Mrs. Wessington give her men? What were their
hours? Where did they go?

And for visible answer to my last question I saw the infernal thing
blocking my path in the twilight. The dead travel fast and by short-cuts
unknown to ordinary coolies. I laughed aloud a second time and checked
my laughter suddenly, for I was afraid I was going mad. Mad to a certain
extent I must have been, for I recollect that I reined in my horse at
the head of the 'rickshaw, and politely wished Mrs. Wessington "good
evening." Her answer was one I knew only too well. I listened to the
end; and replied that I had heard it all before, but should be delighted
if she had anything further to say. Some malignant devil stronger than I
must have entered into me that evening, for I have a dim recollection of
talking the commonplaces of the day for five minutes to the thing in
front of me.

"Mad as a hatter, poor devil--or drunk. Max, try and get him to come
home."

Surely _that_ was not Mrs. Wessington's voice! The two men had overheard
me speaking to the empty air, and had returned to look after me. They
were very kind and considerate, and from their words evidently gathered
that I was extremely drunk. I thanked them confusedly and cantered away
to my hotel, there changed, and arrived at the Mannerings' ten minutes
late. I pleaded the darkness of the night as an excuse; was rebuked by
Kitty for my unlover-like tardiness; and sat down.

The conversation had already become general; and, under cover of it, I
was addressing some tender small talk to my sweetheart when I was aware
that at the further end of the table a short red-whiskered man was
describing with much broidery his encounter with a mad unknown that
evening. A few sentences convinced me that he was repeating the incident
of half an hour ago. In the middle of the story he looked round for
applause, as professional story-tellers do, caught my eye, and
straightway collapsed. There was a moment's awkward silence, and the
red-whiskered man muttered something to the effect that he had
"forgotten the rest"; thereby sacrificing a reputation as a good
story-teller which he had built up for six seasons past. I blessed him
from the bottom of my heart and--went on with my fish.

In the fullness of time that dinner came to an end; and with genuine
regret I tore myself away from Kitty--as certa