But beneath heavy brows looked out eyes that caused the rest of the strange countenance to pale into insignificance. They were pale blue eyes, I think, and they had the flat quality of unglazed china. But in their depths leapt and glowed a strength, a force and a relentless ambition and conscious power that kept us standing there like a pack of children. The pale eyes swept over us slowly, lingering on my face and then slowly swerving to the Chief. In that moment eye to eye I confess I felt an absurd desire to find a hole somewhere, crawl into it and pull it in after me. For the man’s gaze was positively hypnotic. But the moment his eyes left mine for the Chief, I tore my own eyes away from his face to his body and so broke the spell. Each limb was wrapped tightly in spiral turns of soft black silk, and the same individual material and arrangement swathed his body. But limbs and body were slight enough and this style of dress enhanced this smallness. A moment after his eyes left mine he spoke—and we stood silent like children and listened. “Ah, ——,” he said slowly, addressing the Chief by name, “so you have found me. Clayton was a good man for you because he is—fortunate. If it had not been for his good fortune and the fact that I was—badly served, the positions would certainly have been reversed—and before long. However, you have broken into my poor house and—I must leave it. Have you anything to say to me before I go?” The Chief took a step forward, and I saw him shake himself roughly as though to throw off the effect of the man’s personality. “We’ll talk about that presently,” he said roughly. “Do you surrender?” A slow smile crept over the face of the man before us, a smile so utterly mirthless and inhuman that I instinctively drew back at the sight of it. “Surrender?” he answered slowly. “I shall never do that, to you or any man. But I have been badly served here, and I am fatigued with the dense stupidity of man. To-night I am—going elsewhere—but not with you. Have you anything further to say?” The Chief drew his revolver and pointed it at the still figure. “Throw up your hands!” he shouted hoarsely, “or I’ll shoot you down like a dog!” And it seemed to me that the Chief’s voice shook a little in spite of him But no words could ever fully describe the inhuman quality and the amazing sense of power which emanated from this black figure, standing quietly before us. It was no wonder that Ivanovitch and Vining, two such dissimilar types, had been willing to serve this so-called Emperor of theirs. I do not blame the Chief in the least, for I felt just the same, only probably more so. The man in black slowly folded his arms, smiling slightly. “Shoot, then,” he laughed. “It will be amusing!” The muscles tightened all over my body in anticipation of the coming shot. But for some reason the Chief stood there, staring at the figure, and pointing his revolver still, but making no apparent attempt to pull the trigger.