However, as my unfortunate friend required me as interpreter, I had no intention of abandoning him, and accompanied him when he was marched off to durance vile. The Portuguese policeman at first wished to send him under the charge of the Chinese constable, whom he woke up for the purpose; but we explained that if such an indignity were offered us we would certainly refuse to go quietly with the Chinaman and might damage him on the way. He then allowed the Indian sepoys, who were very civil, to escort us. My luckless companion was then solemnly marched through the town until the Head Police Office was reached, over two miles away. It was a rambling structure in the heart of the city, with ancient buildings and tree‐shaded courts. Down long corridors and across a grass‐grown yard we were led into a large office. A half‐open door in a partition on the left bore the inscription, “Quarto del Sargento.” On the right, behind a large screen, a number of Portuguese policemen lay asleep on beds. The sepoys roused a sergeant, who sat up grumbling and surveyed us with little friendliness. The scene was rather amusing. My friend and I in correct evening dress, as haughtily indignant as Britishers should be under such circumstances, the Indian sepoys standing erect behind us, the surly complainant, whom the light of the office lamps revealed to be a very shoddy and common individual, the half‐awakened policemen gazing sleepily at us from their beds, would have made a capital tableau in a comedy. The sergeant rose and put on his uniform. Seating himself at a table in the office he read the charge. Without further ado he ordered a bed to be brought down and placed for the prisoner in the empty “Quarto del Sargento.” He then rose from the table and prepared to retire. I stopped him and demanded that our explanation should be listened to. I told him, through the interpreters, that if the ridiculous charge against my friend was to be proceeded with, he could be found at the hotel. There was no necessity for confining him for the night, as he could not leave Macao without the knowledge of the authorities. The sergeant curtly replied that as there was no complaint against me I had better quit the police‐station as soon as possible. If I wished to give evidence for my friend, I could attend at the magistrate’s court in the morning and do so. I informed him that I was an officer in the British Army, and demanded to see a Portuguese officer. He replied that he was a sergeant, and quite officer enough for me. His manner throughout was excessively overbearing and offensive. I then threatened to appeal to the British Consul. I am afraid that this only amused the Portuguese policemen, who had left their beds to come into the office and listen to the affair. They laughed amusedly; and the sergeant, smiling grimly, bade the interpreting sepoy tell me that he did not care a snap of his fingers for our Consul. I then played my trump card. I demanded