uite
to themselves. Only the white man must be of the sort to put starch into
them, and the captain is just the one for that. Why, sir, he has drilled
him so well that now he needs hardly speak at all. I have seen that
little wrinkled ape made to take the ship out of Pangu Bay on a blowy
morning and on all through the islands; take her out first-rate, sir,
dodging under the old man's elbow, and in such quiet style that you
could not have told for the life of you which of the two was doing the
work up there. That's where our poor friend would be still of use to
the ship even if--if--he could no longer lift a foot, sir. Provided the
Serang does not know that there's anything wrong."

"He doesn't."

"Naturally not. Quite beyond his apprehension. They aren't capable of
finding out anything about us, sir."

"You seem to be a shrewd man," said Mr. Van Wyk in a choked mutter, as
though he were feeling sick.

"You'll find me a good enough servant, sir."

Mr. Sterne hoped now for a handshake at least, but unexpectedly, with a
"What's this? Better not to be seen together," Mr. Van Wyk's white shape
wavered, and instantly seemed to melt away in the black air under
the roof of boughs. The mate was startled. Yes. There was that faint
thumping clatter.

He stole out silently from under the shade. The lighted port-hole shone
from afar. His head swam with the intoxication of sudden success. What
a thing it was to have a gentleman to deal with! He crept aboard, and
there was something weird in the shadowy stretch of empty decks, echoing
with shouts and blows proceeding from a darker part amidships. Mr. Massy
was raging before the door of the berth: the drunken voice within flowed
on undisturbed in the violent racket of kicks.

"Shut up! Put your light out and turn in, you confounded swilling
pig--you! D'you hear me, you beast?"

The kicking stopped, and in the pause the muzzy oracular voice announced
from within--

"Ah! Massy, now--that's another thing. Massy's deep."

"Who's that aft there? You, Sterne? He'll drink himself into a fit of
horrors." The chief engineer appeared vague and big at the corner of the
engineroom.

"He will be good enough for duty to-morrow. I would let him be, Mr.
Massy."

Sterne slipped away into his berth, and at once had to sit down. His
head swam with exultation. He got into his bunk as if in a dream. A
feeling of profound peace, of pacific joy, came over him. On deck all
was quiet.

Mr. M