So much I realized, and no more.  A bag, reeking of some hashish-like perfume, was clapped over my head and pressed firmly against mouth and nostrils.  I felt myself to be stifling—­dying—­and dropping into a bottomless pit.

When I opened my eyes I failed for some time to realize that I was conscious in the true sense of the word, that I was really awake.

I sat upon a bench covered with a red carpet, in a fair-sized room, very simply furnished, in the Chinese manner, but having a two-leaved, gilded door, which was shut.  At the further end of this apartment was a dais some three feet high, also carpeted with red, and upon it was placed a very large cushion covered with a tiger skin.

Seated cross-legged upon the cushion was a Chinaman of most majestic appearance.  His countenance was truly noble and gracious and he was dressed in a yellow robe lined with marten-fur.  His hair, which was thickly splashed with gray, was confined upon the top of his head by three golden combs, and a large diamond was suspended from his left ear.  A pearl-embroidered black cap, surmounted by the red coral ball denoting the mandarin’s rank, lay upon a second smaller cushion beside him.

Leaning back against the wall, I stared at his personage with a dreadful fixity, for I counted him the figment of a disarranged mind.  But palpably he remained before me, fanning himself complacently, and watching me with every mark of kindly interest.  Evidently perceiving that I was fully alive to my surroundings, the Chinaman addressed a remark to me in a tongue quite unfamiliar.

I shook my head dazedly.

“Ah,” he commented in French, “you do not speak my language.”

“I do not,” I answered, also in French, “but since it seems we have one common tongue, what is the meaning of the outrage to which I have been subjected, and who are you?”

As I spoke the words I rose to my feet, but was immediately attacked by vertigo, which compelled me to resume my seat upon the bench.

“Compose yourself,” said the Chinaman, taking a pinch of snuff from a silver vase which stood convenient to his hand.  “I have been compelled to adopt certain measures in order to bring about this interview.  In China, such measures are not unusual, but I recognize that they are out of accordance with your English ideas.”

“Emphatically they are!” I replied.

The placid manner of this singularly imposing old man rendered proper resentment difficult.  A sense of futility, and of unreality, claimed me; I felt that this was a dream-world, governed by dream-laws.

“You have good reason,” he continued, calmly raising the pinch of snuff to his nostrils, “good reason to distrust all that is Chinese.  Therefore, when I despatched my servants to your abode (knowing you to be alone) I instructed them to observe every law of courtesy, compatible with the Sure Invitation.  Hence, I pray you, absolve me, for I intended no offense.”