Narkom’s note lay on the table close to his elbow.  He took it up, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into his waste basket.  “A foreign government affair,” he said with a curious one-sided smile.  “A strange coincidence, to be sure!” Then, as if obeying an impulse, he opened the drawer, looked at the litter of things he had swept into it, shut it up again and locked it securely, putting the key into his pocket and rising to his feet.  Two minutes later, when Narkom pushed open the door and entered the room, he found Cleek leaning against the edge of the mantelpiece and smoking a cigarette with the air of one whose feet trod always upon rose petals, and who hadn’t a thought beyond the affairs of the moment, nor a care for anything but the flavour of Egyptian tobacco.

“Ah, my dear fellow, you can’t think what a relief it was to catch you.  I had but a moment in which to dash off the note, and I was on thorns with fear that it would miss you; that on a glorious night like this you’d be off for a pull up the river or something of that sort,” said the superintendent, as he bustled in and shook hands with him.  “You are such a beggar for getting off by yourself and mooning.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, Mr. Narkom, I came within an ace of doing the very thing you speak of,” replied Cleek.  “It’s full moon, for one thing, and it’s primrose time for another.  Happily for your desire to catch me, however, I—­er—­got interested in the evening paper, and that delayed me.”

“Very glad, dear chap; very glad, indeed,” began Narkom.  Then, as his eye fell upon the particular evening paper in question lying on the writing-table, a little crumpled from use, but with a certain “displayed-headed” article of three columns length in full view, he turned round and stared at Cleek with an air of awe and mystification.  “My dear fellow, you must be under the guardianship of some uncanny familiar.  You surely must, Cleek!” he went on.  “Do you mean to tell me that is what kept you at home?  That you have been reading about the preparations for the forthcoming coronation of King Ulric of Mauravania?”

“Yes; why not?  I am sure it makes interesting reading, Mr. Narkom.  The kingdom of Mauravania has had sufficient ups and downs to inspire a novelist, so its records should certainly interest a mere reader.  To be frank, I found the account of the amazing preparations for the coronation of his new Majesty distinctly entertaining.  They are an excitable and spectacular people, those Mauravanians, and this time they seem bent upon outdoing themselves.”

“But, my dear Cleek, that you should have chosen to stop at home and read about that particular affair!  Bless my soul man, it’s—­it’s amazing, abnormal, uncanny!  Positively uncanny, Cleek!”