Joicey sprang up and called out hoarsely: 

“Who is it?”

“Sahib, Sahib”—­the Durwan’s whine was apologetic.  “Is the Sahib awake?”

“Who wants me?”

“Leh Shin, the Chinaman.”

Joicey wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled open the door with a violent movement.

“Come in,” he said, trying to speak naturally.  “What is it, Leh Shin?”

The Chinaman held a tweed hat in his hand and stole into the room like a shadow.

“What now, Leh Shin?”

Joicey spoke in Yunnanese with the fluency of long habit, and even though he was angry he kept his voice low as though he feared to be overheard.

“The Master of Masters will speak for me,” said the Chinaman, standing before him.  “All day the police stand near to my house, and at night they do not leave it.  At one word from the Master, whose speech is constructed of gold and precious metals, they can be withdrawn, and for that word I wait—­” He made a quick gesture with his tweed cap.

“You will gain nothing by coming to my house, you swine,” said Joicey, his eyes staring and his veins standing out on his forehead.  “I will see what Mr. Hartley will do, but if you drag in my name or refer him to me you will do yourself no good, do you hear?  No good.”

Leh Shin watched him passively and waited until he had finished.

“I will swear the oath,” he said, blinking his eyes.  “I will not speak the name of the Master, but my doors are locked, my house is a house for the water-rats, and until the big Lord frees me I am a poor man.”

Joicey sat down heavily on a low chair.

“It shall be stopped,” he said desperately.  “I will see that there is no more of this police supervision; you may take my word for it.”

The Chinaman stood still, moving one foot to the other.

“In dreams the Master has spoken these promises to me before.  Can I be sure that it is not in a dream that the Master speaks again?”

“I am awake,” said Joicey, bitterly.  “Mr. Hartley is looking for the boy, and if the boy were found, all search would stop,”—­he eyed the Chinaman carefully, but the mask-like face did not change.

“And the little boy?  Perhaps, Ruler and King, the little boy is gone dead.”

“You ask me that, you devil?”

“It is for the servant to ask,” said Leh Shin, dropping his lids for a second.

“Now, get out,” said Joicey, between his clenched teeth.  “And if you come here to me again, at night, I’ll kill you.”

“The Great One will not do that,” said Leh Shin, placidly.  “My assistant waits for me.  It would be known as fire is known when the forest is dry.  To-morrow or next day, if the police are gone, my little house will be open again.”  He spoke the words with deep emphasis.

“Get out,” said Joicey, turning away his head.

Leh Shin looked at him with a sudden, oblique glance like the flash of a knife.