ic pattern that they could
ever have been woven.

At all events it was that night they came: the two short men, with
narrow eyes, set in swarthy Oriental faces--such as those hills had not
before seen.

There was a shout from the night; the customary mountain voice raised
from afar as the guide who had brought these visitors halloed from the
roadway: "I'm Omer Maggard ... an' I'm guidin' a couple of outlanders,
thet wants ter see ye."

McCalloway went to the door and opened it, and because it was late the
guide turned back without crossing the threshold.

But the two men who had employed his services to conduct them through
the night and along the thicketed roads entered gravely, and though they
too must have felt the irrational contrasts of the picture there, their
inscrutable almond eyes manifested no surprise.

They were Japanese, and, as both bowed from the hips, one inquired in
unimpeachable English, "You are the Honourable Victor McCalloway?"

If the former soldier had found it impossible to keep the mists of
emotion out of his pupils a little while ago, such was no longer the
case. His glance was now as stern in its inquisitorial questioning as
steel. It was not necessary that these gentlemen should state their
mission, to inform him that their coming carried a threat for his
incognito, but he answered evenly:

"I am so called."

"I have the honour to present the Count Oku ... and myself Itokai."

CHAPTER XX

When general introductions had followed, the Count Itokai smiled, with a
flash of white and strong teeth.

"We have come to present a certain matter to you--but we find you
entertaining guests--so the business can wait."

The courtesy of manner and the precision of inflection had the
perfection of Japanese officialdom, but McCalloway's response succeeded
in blending with an equal politeness a note of unmistakable aloofness.

"As you wish, gentlemen, though there is no matter concerning myself
which might not be discussed in the presence of these friends."

"Assuredly!" This time it was Oku who spoke. "It is unfortunate that
we are not at liberty to be more outspoken. The matter is one of
certain ... information ... which we hope you can give us ... and
which is official: not personal with ourselves."

Masters made the move. "I'll pop out and see that your horses are
stabled. Gentlemen--" he turned to the others--"it's a fine frosty
night ... shall we finish our cigars in the open a