"And yet I cannot remember thy face."

"I have been away up the big river. I have travelled far to that Island,
where I, with other innocent ones, suffered for no fault of mine."

Leh Shin's assistant looked satisfied. If the Burman were but lately
returned from the convict settlement on the Andaman Islands, it was
quite likely that he might not have been acquainted with him.

To all appearances, the bargain being concluded, and Leh Shin being
absent from the shop, there was nothing further to keep the customer,
yet he made no sign of wishing to leave, and, after a little preamble,
he invited the assistant to drink with him, since, he explained, he
needed company and had taken a fancy to the Chinese boy, who, in his
turn, admitted to a liking for any man who was prepared to entertain him
free of expense. Leh Shin's assistant could not leave the shop for
another hour, so the Burman, who did not appear inclined to wait so
long, went out swiftly, and came back with a bottle of native spirit.

Fired by the fumes of the potent and burning alcohol, the Chinaman
became inquisitive, and wished to hear the details of the crime for
which his new friend had so wrongfully suffered. He looked so evil, so
greasy, and so utterly loathsome that he seemed to fascinate the Burman,
who rocked himself about and moaned as he related the story of his
wrong. His words so excited the ghoulish interest of his listener that
his bloated body quivered as he drank in the details.

"And so ends the tale of his great evil; he that was my friend," said
Coryndon, rising from his heels as he finished his story. "The hour
grows late and there is no comfort in the night, since I may not find