“In the first place, sir,” the man began, “we of course understand that everything we have to tell you will be regarded by you as strictly private and confidential?”

“That goes without saying,” I replied.  “If I were to divulge what my clients tell me, my business would not be worth a day’s purchase.  You can rest assured that everything you may impart to me will be treated in strictest confidence.”

“We thank you,” said Kitwater.  “The story I have to tell you is perhaps the strangest that has ever been told to mortal man.  To begin with, you must understand that my companion and myself have but lately arrived in England.  We have been for many years missionaries in China, sowing the good seed in the Western Provinces.  I do not know whether you have ever visited that country, but even if you have not you must be aware to some extent of the dangers to which our calling is subjected.  We carry our lives in our hands from the moment we leave civilization until we enter it again.  There are times, however, that compensate one for all the trials that have to be undergone.”

“You must excuse me,” I said, “if I remind you that my time is valuable, and that, however interested I may be in the missionary work of China, I cannot allow it to interfere with my business.  The sooner you tell me in what way you want me to help you, the sooner I shall be able to give you the answer you are seeking.”

“I must implore your pardon,” the man continued, humbly enough, “I am afraid our calling, however, is apt to make us a trifle verbose.  If you will allow me, I will put what I have to say in as few words as possible.”

I bowed and signed to him to proceed.

“Our case is as follows,” he began.  “As I have told you, we have been in China for several years, and during that time we have had the good fortune to enroll not a few well-known names among our converts.  To make a long story short, we were so successful as to be able to persuade even the Mandarin of the Province to listen to our message.  He was an enormously rich man, one of the richest perhaps in China, and was so impressed by the good news we brought to him that, on his death-bed, he left to us for the benefit of the mission all his wealth, in gold, silver, and precious stones.  It was a princely legacy, and one that would have enabled us to carry on our mission with such success as we had never before dreamed of.”

“But if you were so lucky and so much in love with your profession, how does it come about that you are in England now?” I inquired.

“I will tell you why,” he answered, leaning towards me and tapping with his fingers upon the edge of my writing-table.  “It is a sad story, and the mere telling of it causes me more pain than you would believe.  You must understand that at the time of the Mandarin’s death an English traveller, who had been passing through the Western Provinces, reached our city and took up his abode with us.  Needless to say we were overwhelmed with grief at the loss of our patron.  The treasure he had presented us with we took to the mission and deposited it in a safe place.  We had no suspicion of any sort of treachery.  I fear my companion and I are not men of the world, that is to say we do not go about suspecting evil of our neighbours.”