Hartley put his hand out in dismay.
"Really, Heath, your attitude is quite absurd. I have already told one man to-day that he was going mad; are you dreaming, man? I only want you to help me, and you talk as if I had accused you of something. There is nothing criminal in being seen in Paradise Street after sundown."
Mr. Heath stood holding by the back of his chair, looking over Hartley's head, his dark eyes burning and his face set.
"Come, then," said the police officer abruptly, "who did you see? Did you, for instance, see the Christian boy, Absalom, Mhtoon Pah's assistant?"
The Rev. Francis Heath made no answer.
"Did you see him?"
"I will not answer any further questions, but since you ask me, I did see the boy."
"Thank you, Heath; that took some getting at. Now will you tell me if you saw him again later: I am supposing that you went down the wharf and came back, shall I say, in an hour's time. Did you see Absalom again?"
The clergyman stared out of the window, and his pause was of such intensely long duration that when he said the one word, "No," it fell like the splash of a stone dropped into a deep well.
Hartley looked at his sleeve-links for quite a long time.