wo millions more than last year----"

"Where did you get your figures?" broke in the Bishop with rising
indignation. This cowering, trembling boy seemed to have all the
arguments on his side.

"From your own reports, Sir. Government reports. Compiled by your own
officials."

"And how did _you_ obtain a Government report?" asked the Bishop
angrily. "Spying, eh?"

The young man ignored the insult, and went on patiently. "Some are
distributed free, others may be bought at the book shops. There is one
lying on your table this moment, Sir."

"Well enough for me," remarked the Bishop, "but how did you come by
it?" The sharp eyes had recognised the fat, blue volume buried under a
miscellaneous litter of books and pamphlets on a wicker table. A lean
finger pointed towards it, and the accusing voice went on.

"There is more than opium in that Report, Sir. Look at the schools.
How little schooling do you give us, how little money do you spend for
them. We are almost illiterate--yet you have ruled us for many years.
How little do you spend on schools, so that you may keep us submissive
and ignorant? You know how freely you provide us with opium, so that
we may be docile and easy to manage--easy to manage and exploit."

The Bishop sprang up from his chair, making a grasp for the white coat
of his tormentor, but the fellow nimbly avoided him, and darted to the
other side of the table. It was almost completely dark by this time,
and the Bishop could not pursue his guest in the gloom, nor could he
reach the bell.

"Are you a Seditionist, Sir? How dare you criticise the Government?"
The answer was immediate and unexpected.

"Yes, I criticise the Government--just as I have been criticising it
to you. But more in sorrow than in anger. Although in time the anger
may come. Therefore that is why I have come to you--for help, before
our anger comes. You are a strong man, a just, a liberal man--so I'm
told. You hold a high position in the Church maintained by your
Government, just as the opium traffic is maintained by your
Government. Both are Government monopolies."

In the distance the cathedral chimes rang over the still air--the old,
sweet Canterbury chimes, pealing the full round, for it was the hour.
Then the hour struck, and both men counted it, mechanically.

"Your salary, Sir--as well as the salaries of the other priests of
your established church, out here in this Colony--comes from the
established opium trade. Your Ca