"Read!" he said, and subsided into his padded armchair a picture of gloom.
The sheets of foolscap were surmounted by crests showing an emaciated lion and a small horse with a spiral horn in his forehead endeavouring to climb a chafing-dish which had been placed on edge for the purpose, and was suitably inscribed with another lion, two groups of leopards and a harp.
Colhemos did not stop to admire the menagerie, but proceeded at once to the literature. It was in French, and had to do with a certain condition of affairs in Portuguese Central Africa which "constituted a grave and increasing menace to the native subjects" of "Grande Bretagne." There were hints, "which His Majesty's Government would be sorry to believe, of raids and requisitions upon the native manhood" of this country which differed little from slave raids.
Further, "Mr. Commissioner Sanders of the Territories regretted to learn" that these labour requisitions resulted in a condition of affairs not far removed from slavery.
Colhemos read through the dispatch from start to finish, and put it down thoughtfully.
"Pinto has been overdoing it," he admitted. "I shall have to write to him."
"What you write to Pinto may be interesting enough to print," said Dr. Sarabesta violently, "but what shall I write to London? This Commissioner Sanders is a fairly reliable man, and his Government will act upon what he says."
Colhemos, who was really a great man (it was a distinct loss when he faced a firing platoon in the revolutionary days of '12), tapped his nose with a penholder.
"You can say that we shall send a special commissioner to the M'fusi country to report, and that he will remain permanently established in the M'fusi to suppress lawless acts."
The doctor looked up wonderingly.