d open the door.

"Mon nom est Birnier, Gerald Birnier--er--Does any one speak English?"

Zu Pfeiffer, in the act of rising, sank back into the chair, placing his
left leg in a favourite position and selecting a cigar simultaneously.

"Yes," said he, almost without accent. "What do you want?"

"I wish to see the--the Herr Kommandant."

Zu Pfeiffer struck a match without looking up.

"I am he."

One hand upon the open door, Birnier stroked his shaven chin perplexedly
with the other. He glanced from the sergeant, standing rigidly by the
table, to the lieutenant engaged in stoking his cigar to a nicety.

"Well, it's usual to invite a white man to sit down, isn't it?" suggested
Birnier, with a note of irritation.

Zu Pfeiffer looked across the table.

"Nein. This is the Orderly Room; not a general office."

"Oh, I see. I beg your pardon!" There was a note of laughter in the voice.
"Will you kindly instruct me where I am to apply?"

Zu Pfeiffer continued to regard the stranger from head to foot, smoking
slowly.

"Please to come in," he said at length, gesturing with his cigar, "and sit
down."

"Thanks so much!"

The trace of irony seemed to escape zu Pfeiffer. He gave a guttural order
to the sergeant, who saluted and disappeared. The stranger placed his
Tirai hat on the table, revealing rumpled brown hair flecked with grey, a
high white forehead, and long features; the slight stoop of the shoulders
and general carriage rather suggested a professional type than a hunter or
trader. He regarded the slim figure staring insolently at him with a
hardening look of disapproval.

"What is it you wish?"

"Well, principally I require an elephant licence and the usual permit to
trade."

"Where are you going?"

"To the Kivu country."

Zu Pfeiffer regarded his cigar tip interestedly.

"You are going to the Wongolo country," he stated.

Birnier's mouth tightened.

"Quite possibly."

"You have been to the Wongolo country already?"

"Yes, I have been there, but what has that to do with it?"

"We know all about you," stated zu Pfeiffer coldly, twiddling his cigar
between slender fingers. He glanced at a gold repeater. "Pardon, but I
must request you to return later. The Court is already awaiting me."
Birnier frowned slightly. "If you will be so good as to return at, let us
say, five o'clock, I will be pleased to listen to your application."

Birnier rose, taking his hat.

"Certainly," he said curtly. "Good