"Mokorongo, you will have to go out and arrest Chiromo."
"To-morrow?"
"To-night."
"His village is far and the sun is setting."
"You will get there before morning and will bring Chiromo back with you."
"How many go with me?"
"You go alone."
The messenger was very much afraid. He licked his lips, which had become dry, he shuffled with his feet, his gaze wandered from ceiling to floor and round the hall in which the Commissioner sat.
"Mokorongo."
"Morena."