“Put him down, ‘Quack Duck,’ sir,” exclaimed one of dog-like dejection who stood by. “Most of these Lascars haven’t got any real names--they just go by what any one happens to call them at the time, like ‘Burmese Ike’ down at the Mint,” and this person unfortunately chancing to smile and bow acquiescently at that moment (not with any set intention, but as a general principle of courteous urbanity), in place of his really distinguished titles he will henceforth appear among the historical records of this dynasty under what he cannot disguise from his inner misgivings to be the low-caste appellation of Quack Duck. “Now the address, please,” continued the high one, again preparing to inscribe the word, and being determined that by no mischance should this particular be offensively reported, I unhesitatingly replied, “Beneath the Sign of the Lead Tortoise, on the northern course from the Lotus Pools outside the walls of Yuen-ping.” This answer the one with the book did not immediately record. “I don’t say it isn’t all right when you know the parts,” he remarked broad-mindedly, “but it does sound a trifle irregular. Can’t you give it a number and a street?” “I fancy it must be a pub, sir,” observed another. “He said that it had a sign--the Red Tortoise.” “Well, haven’t you got a London address?” said the high one, and this person being able to supply a street and a number as desired, this part of the undertaking was disposed of, to his cordial satisfaction. “Now let me see the articles which these men left with you,” commanded the chieftain of the band, and without any misleading discrepancies I at once drew forth from an inner sleeve the two scrips, of which adequate mention has already been made, another hitherto undescribed, two instruments for measuring the passing hours of the day, together with a chain of fine gold ingeniously wrought into the semblance of a cable, an ornament for the breast, set about with a jewel, two neck-cloths of a kind usually carried in the pocket, a book for recording happenings of any moment, pieces of money to the value of about eleven taels, a silver flagon, a sheathed weapon and a few lesser objects of insignificant value. These various details I laid obsequiously before the one who had commanded it, while the others stood around either in explicit silence or speaking softly beneath their breath. “Do I understand that the two persons left all these things with you, while they took your purse in exchange?” said the high official, after examining certain obscure signs upon the metals, the contents of the third scrip, and the like. “It cannot reasonably be denied,” I replied; “inasmuch as they departed without them.” “Spontaneously?” he demanded, and in spite of the unevadible severity of his voice the expression of his nearer eye deviated somewhat.