He wore a plain white pugree with a large jewel set on one side, and his body was swathed and wrapped in dark thick stuffs, as if he felt keenly the cold autumn air.

His face was long, of an ashy yellowish colour, and an immense white moustache hung curling down over his sombre robe.

One hand protruded from the folds and held the richly-jewelled mouthpiece of the pipe to his lips, and I noticed that the fingers were long and crooked, winding themselves curiously round the gold stem, as if revelling in the touch of the precious metal and the gems.

As we came within his range of vision, his dark eyes shot a quick glance of scrutiny at me and then dropped again.

Not a movement of the head or body betrayed a consciousness of our presence.