Stres, dressed and dozing in an armchair (what else could he do on such a day), felt his wife’s hand touch his shoulder gently. “Stres, there are people here to see you.” He woke with a start. “What is it? Was I sleeping?” “They’re asking for you,” his wife said. “It’s your deputy, and another man with him.” “Oh? Tell them I’ll be right down.” His aide and someone Stres didn’t know, their hair dripping, stood waiting on the porch. “Captain,” said his deputy the moment he saw his chief, “the man who brought Doruntine back has been captured.” Stres stood for a moment, stunned. “How can that be?” he asked. His deputy was astonished at the surprise evident in the face of his chief, who showed no sign of satisfaction, as if he hadn’t spent weeks trying to find the man. “Yes, they’ve caught him at last,” he said, still not sure whether his chief had fully grasped what he was talking about. Stres was still looking at them questioningly. In fact he had understood perfectly.
