lie down, which was a foolish way of spending New Year's Day.

Strickland sat with me in the stables and asked if I had noticed---
anything peculiar in Fleete's manner. I said that he ate his food like a
beast; but that this might have been the result of living alone in the
hills out of the reach of society as refined and elevating as ours- for
instance. Strickland was not amused. I do not think that he listened to
me, for his next sentence referred to the mark on Fleete's breast, and I
said that it might have been caused by blister-flies, or that it was
possibly a birth-mark newly born and now visible for the first time-. We
both agreed that it was unpleasant to look at, and Strickland found
occasion to say that I was a fool--.
'I can't tell you what I think now,--' said he, 'because you would call me
a madman; but you must stay with me for the next few days, if you can. I
want you to watch Fleete, but don't tell me what you think till I have
made up my mind.'-

'But I am dining out to-night,' I said. 'So am I,' said Strickland, 'and
so is Fleete. At least if he doesn't change his mind.'
We walked about the-- garden smoking, but saying nothing--because we were
friends, and talking spoils good tobacco till our pipes were out. Then
we went to wake up Fleete. He was wide awake and fidgeting about his
room.
'I say, I want some more-- chops,' he said. 'Can I get them?'
We laughed and said, 'Go and change. The ponies will be round in a
minute.'
'All right,' said Fleete. -I'll go when I get the chops--underdone ones,
mind.'

He seemed to be quite in earnest. It was four o'clock, and we had had
breakfast at one; still, for a long time, he demanded those underdone
chops. Then he changed into-- riding clothes and went out into the
verandah. His pony the mare had not been caught would not let him come
near. All three horses were unmanageable mad with fear and finally
Fleete said that he would stay at home and get something to eat.
Strickland and I rode out wondering. As we passed the temple of Hanuman,
the Silver Man came out and mewed at us.
'He is not one of the regular-- priests of the temple,' said Strickland.
'I think I should peculiarly like to lay my hands on him.'
There was no spring in our gallop on the racecourse that evening. The
horses were stale, and moved as- though they had been ridden out.
'The fright after breakfast has been too much for them,' said
Strickland.
That was the only remark he made- through the remainder of the ride. Once
or twice I think he swore to himself; but that did not count.
We came back in the dark at seven o'clock, and saw that there were no
lights in the bungalow. 'Careless-- ruffians