There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. ‘That is good. ” “Ye—e—es. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. “Excuse me?” Mike threw Michelle a strange look, bursting into a grin. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel.
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