his tricks, and was duly rewarded and returned to his home of iron.
"She'll be wanting to take you home with her, but you're not for sale."

He then opened his window and leaned against the sill, looking up at
the stars. But, unlike the girl, he did not ask any questions.

"Free!" he said softly.




III

THE WEAK LINK

The day began white and chill, for February nights and mornings are not
particularly comfortable on the Irrawaddy. The boat sped down the
river, smoothly and noiselessly. For all that the sun shone, the
shore-lines were still black. The dust had not yet risen. Elsa passed
through the dining-saloon to the stern-deck and paused at the door.
The scene was always a source of interest to her. There were a hundred
or more natives squatting in groups on the deck. They were wrapped in
ragged shawls, cotton rugs of many colors, and woolen blankets, and
their turbans were as bright and colorful as a Holland tulip-bed. Some
of them were smoking long pipes and using their fists as mouthpieces;
others were scrubbing their teeth with short sticks of fibrous wood;
and still others were eating rice and curry out of little copper pots.
There were very few Burmese among them. They were Hindus, from Central
and Southern India, with a scattering of Cingalese. Whenever a Hindu
gets together a few rupees, he travels. He neither cares exactly where