n the centre
table.

CHAPTER NINE

That night the girl woke up, for the first time in her new experience,
with the sensation of having been abandoned to her own devices. She woke
up from a painful dream of separation brought about in a way which she
could not understand, and missed the relief of the waking instant.
The desolate feeling of being alone persisted. She was really alone.
A night-light made it plain enough, in the dim, mysterious manner of a
dream; but this was reality. It startled her exceedingly.

In a moment she was at the curtain that hung in the doorway, and raised
it with a steady hand. The conditions of their life in Samburan would
have made peeping absurd; nor was such a thing in her character. This
was not a movement of curiosity, but of downright alarm--the continued
distress and fear of the dream. The night could not have been very far
advanced. The light of the lantern was burning strongly, striping the
floor and walls of the room with thick black bands. She hardly knew
whether she expected to see Heyst or not; but she saw him at once,
standing by the table in his sleeping-suit, his back to the doorway.
She stepped in noiselessly with her bare feet, and let the curtain fall
behind her. Something characteristic in Heyst's attitude made her say,
almost in a whisper:

"You are looking for something."

He could not have heard her before; but he didn't start at the
unexpected whisper. He only pushed the drawer of the table in and,
without even looking over his shoulder, asked quietly, accepting her
presence as if he had been aware of all her movements:

"I say, are you certain that Wang didn't go through this room this
evening?"

"Wang? When?"

"After leaving the lantern, I mean."

"Oh, no. He ran on. I watched him."

"Or before, perhaps--while I was with these boat people? Do you know?
Can you tell?"

"I hardly think so. I came out as the sun went down, and sat outside
till you came back to me."

"He could have popped in for an instant through the back veranda."

"I heard nothing in here," she said. "What is the matter?"

"Naturally you wouldn't hear. He can be as quiet as a shadow, when he
likes. I believe he could steal the pillows from under our heads. He
might have been here ten minutes ago."

"What woke you up? Was it a noise?"

"Can't say that. Generally one can't tell, but is it likely, Lena? You
are, I believe, the lighter sleeper of us two. A noise loud enough to