"Take all soldiers," I said. There were four files in the street just then. The policeman spoke to them, and they caught up their big sword-bayonets, nearly as long as themselves, and waddled after him. I followed them, but first I bought some sweets and gave one to a child. That was enough. Long before I had reached the hotel I had a tail of fifty babies. These I seduced into the long passage that ran through the house, and then I slid the grating that answers to the big hall-door. That house was full--pit, boxes and galleries--for Griffiths had created an audience of his own, and I also had not been idle. The four files of soldiers and the five policemen were marking time on the boards of Griffith's room, while the landlord and the landlord's wife, and the two scullions, and the bath-girl, and the cook-boy, and the boy who spoke English, and the boy who didn't, and the boy who tried to, and the cook, filled all the space that wasn't devoted to babies asking the foreigner for more sweets. Somewhere in the centre of the mess was Griffiths and a yellow-hide bag. I don't think he had looked up once since I left, for as he raised his eyes at my voice I heard him cry: "Good heavens! are they going to train the guns of the city on me? What's the meaning of the regiment? I'm a British subject." "What are you looking for?" I asked. "The passports--your passports--the double-dyed passports! Oh, give a man room to use his arms. Get me a hatchet." "The passports, the passports!" I said. "Have you looked in your great-coat? It's on the bed, and there's a blue envelope in it that looks like a passport. You put it there before you left Kyoto." Griffiths looked. The landlord looked. The landlord took the passport and bowed. The five policemen bowed and went out one by one; the 9th N.I. formed fours and went out; the household bowed, and there was a long silence. Then the bath-girl began to giggle. When Griffiths wanted to speak to me I was on the other side of the regiment of children in the passage, and he had time to reflect before he could work his way through them. They formed his guard-of-honour when he took the bag to the locksmith. I abode on the mountains of Otsu till dinner-time. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 9: "Turnovers," Vol. VII.] IT![10] There was no talk of it for a fortnight. We spoke of latitude and longitude and the proper manufacture of sherry cobblers, while the steamer cut open a glassy-smooth sea. Then we turned towards China and drank farewell to the nearer East. "We shall reach Hongkong without being it," said the nervous lady. "Nobody of ordinary strength of mind ever was it," said the big fat man with the voice. I kept my eye on the big fat man. He boasted too much.