Our coffee and cigars were finished. I knew that tomorrow -- or was it today? It was well past midnight -- the inquiry judges would take up the weapon of the law and punish Jim. I told myself repeatedly that the young man was guilty, but I wanted to help him get away. My friends, if you can't understand my reasons, you haven't been listening to me all this time.

So I suggested Brierly's plan of escape to Jim. I would lend him some money -- he could pay it back when he liked -- and I would also write a letter to a friend of mine in Rangoon, who would give him a job. Jim could leave that same day, and save himself the shame of the final day in the crowded courthouse. I was impatient to begin writing the letter immediately. But Jim refused.

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