In another quarter of an hour we were rolling along in Kwang's motor-car to a place about forty miles outside Mecco. The roads were as smooth as glass and the car made no noise, so we could converse without raising our voices. Kwang observed that if I wished to stay in Meccania there was only one way of getting behind the screen, and that was to become a convert. The rôle of a convert, however, was becoming more difficult to play. He had lately begun to suspect that he was being watched, or at any rate that one or two people at the Foreign Office were jealous of his privileges. Some years ago, the Head of the Foreign Office had given him practically the free run of the country, and had utilised him as a sort of missionary of Meccania. His books on the _Triumphs of Meccanian Culture_ and on _Meccania's World Mission_ had been given the widest possible publicity, both in Meccania and abroad. He still enjoyed all his privileges, for Count Krafft was a powerful friend at the Foreign Office. Consequently the Police Department had orders not to interfere with him, and he had free passes for almost everything. But another Under-Secretary had lately begun to question the wisdom of his colleague, not openly but secretly, and was trying to get hold of evidence. "They lie so wonderfully and so systematically themselves," said Kwang, "that they naturally suspect everybody else of lying too. But this suspicion very often defeats its own object. Still, they can't expect to have a monopoly of lying. I have seen official pamphlets for circulation in the departments, on the methods of testing the _bona fides_ of foreigners; and elaborate rules for finding out whether foreign Governments are trying to deceive them." "And you have satisfied all their tests?" I said.