r
worshippers.'

"After a pause of tense silence, as if the listener was awaiting for
more, he dropped hand and eyes. And now my mind took a new turn of
thought. There was the confused, unmistakable glare of insanity in the
man's eyes. Half unconsciously, I leaned back on my cushions and placed
a hand upon the dagger in my kummerbund.

"The stranger noticed the movement, and, lunatic though he undoubtedly
appeared to be, interpreted my thoughts.

"'Be not afraid of me, master,' he said. 'This is the only weapon I
carry.'

"And with these words he slipped off a silken scarf that he had been
wearing loosely around his throat, and tossed it on the carpet between
us.

"Now was I all the more confirmed in my estimate of his madness. To call
such a thing a weapon!--a strip of soft fabric that might kill a
butterfly but would be poor defence indeed to rely on against sword or
dagger. I suppose I smiled contemptuously, for again the man read my
thoughts.

"Then instantly did he do a thing that made my blood run cold. With a
toss of the scarf into the air, he formed it into a noose, and this he
threw over one upbended knee. Next with a swift twist of fierce hands he
drew the knot tight, and so terribly realistic was his action that for
the moment I saw above his knee the contorted mouth and protruding eyes
of his suddenly strangled victim.

"There was horror in my gaze now, but only calm professional pride in
his, as he flung back the still looped and knotted kerchief on to the
carpet.

"'Yes, I am a strangler,' he said calmly, 'as are all the thugs, born to
become stranglers, and taught how to use the roomal in early youth by
their own fathers' hands.'

"Of strangling as a means of murder I of course knew, and, indeed,
during the years of my magistracy, I had heard vague rumours of robbers
habitually resorting to this method of dispatching their victims rather
than to clubs or swords. But such appalling dexterity as this man
displayed in the handling of an innocent-looking silken scarf I had
never imagined.

"'You look dismayed,' commented the miscreant, no longer a madman now to
my thinking, but a very dangerous character indeed. 'I am not surprised.
Now prepare yourself for a story that will freeze the very marrow in
your bones. Know that I am from Daibul, the city by the sea where great
Mother Indus flows into the black waters. There for six months of the
year, just before and during the season of the monsoon,