"Capabilities," stammered the inspector. "Would you call that suspended animation, now—or what?"
"I'd call it suspended extinction, if there were such a thing in medical science. As it is, I'll call it suspended judgment and let it go at that."
They stayed staring at Moung Poh Sin for a while.
"'There are more things 'twixt'—" began the doctor.
"Twixt East and West," suggested the inspector.
"Quite so. And if you doubt my word for it—look!"...
He lifted aside the narrow-edged coat to show the naked, rugged breast beneath; and there, a little to the left, within a space that might have been covered with a lotus leaf were three smooth, round bullet holes where the late headman of Apyodaw had been drilled through the heart—three times.
THE RED MARK
Even now nobody can tell his name, though doubtless it was a grand and a proud one. Perhaps you could find it in the files of the Bordeaux press twenty years ago, when they sentenced him to transportation for life for five proved murders. Since then it has been officially forgotten. But the man himself has lived on. He lives and he continues to develop his capabilities—as we are all expected to do here in New Caledonia.