Already he had pulled back the lever, preparing to shoot again, when Lipthay's rifle spoke. His weapon fell with a clang to the tiles, and, his two hands clasped to his breast, he staggered back against the screen, which gave way, and fell doubled up under the verandah. With his back against the wall of the house, he watched us as we came to the door. His mouth opened, and he tried to curse: "_De-oh!... de-oh!_" Then he coughed, and a rush of blood choked his words. He toppled over on his side as our three rifle-butts, descending on its surface, splintered the wooden door of his abode. He had done his best to defend his guest. The scene inside was a strange one. We had expected resistance, but found none, and were perhaps disappointed in consequence. On a big wooden couch, and inside a green mosquito-curtain, lay a man, dressed in cream-coloured silk. Beside him was a tray on which I saw the little silver box, the skewers and the lamp. The latter was burning, and the brilliant stream of sunshine pouring through the broken door seemed to drown its flicker. The man's face was long and emaciated, and, as the light struck it, I noticed that his skin was very fair for a native, that he wore a green silk turban, and that his hair was carefully rolled. The finger-nails of his left hand, which held the pipe over the flame, were very long; that of the little finger being at least 4 inches. On the index finger of the same hand was a massive gold ring. Beside him lay a woman, who was tending the opium, even as I had seen Ba do a few hours earlier. She was dressed in a long stole-like garment of bright green. Neither of the pair moved or looked towards us, and for a few seconds their indifference to our presence seemed complete and contemptuous. When he had finished the pipe he had been smoking, he sat up and nodded to Tho, who saluted him in the vernacular, saying as he did so: "Linh-binh, you must surrender and come with us. Fools, but not grave men, resist the inevitable." There was a tremor in his voice, and a gleam in the little sergeant's eye that said only too plainly how gladly he would have slain the rebel then and there. I noticed a glitter on the floor near the bed, bent down and picked up a Spencer carbine and a belt full of cartridges. Attached to it was a hunting-knife in a leather sheath, and a holster containing a revolver of an American pattern. The _linh-binh_ slid off the couch and stood before us. "Cannot I die now?" he said to Tho. "No! no! we are to take you alive. Such are the orders which must be obeyed." Then to me: "_Camarade_, you who are as strong as an ox, will you hold his arms behind his back one little moment?" I did as he requested, and the _Doy_ took the green turban from the head of our prisoner, and tied his elbows together, leaving about a yard of the silk loose, the end of which he wound round his own wrist.