"Did you mean what you said about going to Dagon?" "Why?" "Because, if you did, I want you to go at once, and take me with you." "Why, little woman, what is the matter?" She got up impatiently. "Oh, you men--you men! Will you never understand?" CHAPTER X. AN ATONEMENT. _Ruys_.--Can I give back? Well, then I will restore. Death pays all debts. _Maraffa: A Tragedy_. In a solitary room of his house, shut out from the light of day, Hawkshawe was drinking himself to madness and to death. The weary weeks dragged themselves on, one after the other, in connection with his case, and yet nothing was done beyond the order which kept him under judgment. The government had not as yet even decided what steps they were to take in the matter. Called upon for an explanation, Hawkshawe had sent up a long memorial, full, as memorials always are, of points that did not bear on the question. He clutched at any straw to save himself, and there was without doubt a good record of good work done by him. Practically, however, he was already condemned, and the governor had made up his mind almost as soon as he heard of the case. He was a man whose muscular morality could endure no backsliding, and the taint of the old days still hung around Burma. He had sworn to purify it, and he meant to keep his word. "These are the men," he said, referring to Hawkshawe, "that we want to get rid of, and any excuse should be seized upon, for they have dragged the name of Englishmen in the mud; of course, however, Mr. Hawkshawe must have every opportunity of defending himself." The head of the police, to whom these words were spoken, went away with misgivings in his heart about Hawkshawe. "He'll get over the bribery and corruption part of the affair," he said to a confidential friend--in other words, to his wife. "There's no real proof except the statements of those dismissed scoundrels and half a dozen other blackguards; but the other thing will smash him, and, with all his faults, he is very nearly my best man." "And he ought to be turned out," said the lady. "I have no pity for men like Mr. Hawkshawe." The chief remained silent, knowing that here argument was unavailing, but nevertheless he still regretted Hawkshawe's fate. And from this it will be inferred that a long connection with the seamy side of mankind had more or less blunted the fine edge of his susceptibilities, and that he was prepared to use any tools if they served his business, which was the suppression and detection of crime; and perhaps he was right.