as immensely
entertained. It was as if nobody could talk like this now, and the
overshadowed eyes, the flowing white beard, the big frame, the
serenity, the whole temper of the man, were an amazing survival from the
prehistoric times of the world coming up to him out of the sea.

Captain Whalley had been also the pioneer of the early trade in the Gulf
of Pe-tchi-li. He even found occasion to mention that he had buried
his "dear wife" there six-and-twenty years ago. Mr. Van Wyk, impassive,
could not help speculating in his mind swiftly as to the sort of woman
that would mate with such a man. Did they make an adventurous and
well-matched pair? No. Very possible she had been small, frail, no
doubt very feminine--or most likely commonplace with domestic instincts,
utterly insignificant. But Captain Whalley was no garrulous bore, and
shaking his head as if to dissipate the momentary gloom that had settled
on his handsome old face, he alluded conversationally to Mr. Van Wyk's
solitude.

Mr. Van Wyk affirmed that sometimes he had more company than he wanted.
He mentioned smilingly some of the peculiarities of his intercourse with
"My Sultan." He made his visits in force. Those people damaged his grass
plot in front (it was not easy to obtain some approach to a lawn in
the tropics) and the other day had broken down some rare bushes he had
planted over there. And Captain Whalley remembered immediately that,
in 'forty-seven, the then Sultan, "this man's grandfather," had been
notorious as a great protector of the piratical fleets of praus from
farther East. They had a safe refuge in the river at Batu Beru. He
financed more especially a Balinini chief called Haji Daman. Captain
Whalley, nodding significantly his bushy white eyebrows, had very good
reason to know something of that. The world had progressed since that
time.

Mr. Van Wyk demurred with unexpected acrimony. Progressed in what? he
wanted to know.

Why, in knowledge of truth, in decency, in justice, in order--in honesty
too, since men harmed each other mostly from ignorance. It was, Captain
Whalley concluded quaintly, more pleasant to live in.

Mr. Van Wyk whimsically would not admit that Mr. Massy, for instance,
was more pleasant naturally than the Balinini pirates.

The river had not gained much by the change. They were in their way
every bit as honest. Massy was less ferocious than Haji Daman no doubt,
but . . .

"And what about you, my good sir?" Captain Wha