“Now who,” said Yram, “is this unfortunate creature to be, when he is brought up to-morrow morning, on the charge of poaching?”

“It is not necessary,” said Hanky severely, “that he should be brought up for poaching.  He is a foreign devil, and as such your son is bound to fling him without trial into the Blue Pool.  Why bring a smaller charge when you must inflict the death penalty on a more serious one?  I have already told you that I shall feel it my duty to report the matter at headquarters, unless I am satisfied that the death penalty has been inflicted.”

“Of course,” said George, “we must all of us do our duty, and I shall not shrink from mine—­but I have arrested this man on a charge of poaching, and must give my reasons; the case cannot be dropped, and it must be heard in public.  Am I, or am I not, to have the sworn depositions of both you gentlemen to the fact that the prisoner is the man you saw with quails in his possession?  If you can depose to this he will be convicted, for there can be no doubt he killed the birds himself.  The least penalty my father can inflict is twelve months’ imprisonment with hard labour; and he must undergo this sentence before I can Blue-Pool him.

“Then comes the question whether or no he is a foreign devil.  I may decide this in private, but I must have depositions on oath before I do so, and at present I have nothing but hearsay.  Perhaps you gentlemen can give me the evidence I shall require, but the case is one of such importance that were the prisoner proved never so clearly to be a foreign devil, I should not Blue-Pool him till I had taken the King’s pleasure concerning him.  I shall rejoice, therefore, if you gentlemen can help me to sustain the charge of poaching, and thus give me legal standing-ground for deferring action which the King might regret, and which once taken cannot be recalled.”

Here Yram interposed.  “These points,” she said, “are details.  Should we not first settle, not what, but who, we shall allow the prisoner to be, when he is brought up to-morrow morning?  Settle this, and the rest will settle itself.  He has declared himself to be the Sunchild, and will probably do so again.  I am prepared to identify him, so is Dr. Downie, so is Mrs. Humdrum, the interpreter, and doubtless my father.  Others of known respectability will also do so, and his marks and measurements are sure to correspond quite sufficiently.  The question is, whether all this is to be allowed to appear on evidence, or whether it is to be established, as it easily may, if we give our minds to it, that he is not the Sunchild.”

“Whatever else he is,” said Hanky, “he must not be the Sunchild.  He must, if the charge of poaching cannot be dropped, be a poacher and a foreign devil.  I was doubtless too hasty when I said that I believed I recognized the man as one who had more than once declared himself to be the Sunchild—­”

“But, Hanky,” interrupted Panky, “are you sure that you can swear to this man’s being the man we met on Thursday night?  We only saw him by firelight, and I doubt whether I should feel justified in swearing to him.”