"O Prince, a boon, the boon of justice on this man. Last night he and
others with him attacked my master and myself, seeking to rob us, but
finding nothing let us go."

"You lie, Abortion!" said the Eastern.

"Oh! I lie, do I?" mocked Bes. "Well, let us see," and shooting out
his long arm, he grasped the chain about the messenger's neck and
broke it with a jerk. "Look, O Prince," he said, "you may have noted
last night, when that man entered the hall, that there hung about his
neck this chain to which was tied a silver key."

"I noted it," said Peroa.

"Then ask him, O Prince, where is the key now."

"What is that to you, Dwarf?" broke in the man. "The key is my mark of
office as chief butler to the High Satrap. Must I always bear it for
your pleasure?"

"Not when it has been taken from you, Butler," answered Bes. "See,
here it is," and from his sleeve he produced the key hanging to a
piece of the chain. "Listen, O Prince," he said. "I struggled with
this man and the key was in my left hand though he did not know it at
the time, and with it some of the chain. Compare them and judge. Also
his mask slipped and I saw his face and knew him again."

Peroa laid the pieces of the chain together and observed the
workmanship which was Eastern and rare. Then he clapped his hands, at