fore.'

'All right,' said Bude.

He then veiled his face in a piece of silk that lay on a sofa, and
rapidly, in a low voice, chanted a kind of hymn in a tongue unknown to
Merton. All this he did with a bored air, as if he thought the
performance a superfluous mummery.

'Now what shall I show you? Something simple. Look at the bookcase, and
think of any book you may want to consult.'

Merton thought of the volume in M. of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. The
volume slowly slid from the shelf, glided through the air to Merton, and
gently subsided on the table near him, open at the word _Moa_.

Merton walked across to the bookcase, took all the volumes from the
shelf, and carefully examined the backs and sides for springs and
mechanical advantages. There were none.

'Not half bad!' he said, when he had completed his investigation.

'You are satisfied that Te-iki-pa knew something? If you had seen what I
have seen, if you had seen the three days dead--' and Bude shivered
slightly.

'I have seen enough. Do you know how it is done?'

'No.'

'Well, a miracle is not what you call logical proof, but I believe that
you did see the Moa, and a still more extraordinary bird, Te-iki-pa.'

'Yes, they talk of strange beasts, but "nothing is stranger than man."
Did you ever hear of the Berbalangs of Cagayan Sulu?'

'Never in my life,' said Merton.

'Heaven preserve me from _them_,' said Bude, and he gently stroked the
strange muddy pearls in the sleeve-links on his loose shirt-cuff. 'Angels
and ministers of grace defend us,' he exclaimed, crossing himself (he was
of the old faith), and he fell silent.

It was a moment of emotion. Six silvery strokes were sounded from a
little clock on the chimney-piece. The hour of confidences had struck.

'Bude, you are serious about Miss McCabe?' asked Merton.

'I mean to put it to the touch at Goodwood.'

'No use!' said Merton.

Bude changed colour.

'Are _you_?'

'No,' interrupted Merton. 'But she is not free.'

'There is somebody in America? Nobody here, I think.'

'It is hardly that,' said Merton. 'Can you listen to rather a long
story? I'll cut it as much as possible. You must remember that I am
practically breaking my word of honour in telling you this. My honour is
in your hands.'

'Fire away,' said Bude, pouring a bottle of Apollinaris water into a long
tumbler, and drinking deep.

Merton told the tale of Miss McCabe's extraordinary involvement, an