eless
humiliation.

This moral stab in the back seemed to have taken some of his strength
from him, as a physical wound would have done. He had no desire to do
anything--neither to bring Wang to terms in the matter of the revolver
nor to find out from the strangers who they were, and how their
predicament had come about. He flung his glowing cigar away into the
night. But Samburan was no longer a solitude wherein he could indulge in
all his moods. The fiery parabolic path the cast-out stump traced in the
air was seen from another veranda at a distant of some twenty yards. It
was noted as a symptom of importance by an observer with his faculties
greedy for signs, and in a state of alertness tense enough almost to
hear the grass grow.

CHAPTER TEN

The observer was Martin Ricardo. To him life was not a matter of
passive renunciation, but of a particularly active warfare. He was
not mistrustful of it, he was not disgusted with it, still less was he
inclined to be suspicious of its disenchantments; but he was vividly
aware that it held many possibilities of failure. Though very far from
being a pessimist, he was not a man of foolish illusions. He did
not like failure, not only because of its unpleasant and dangerous
consequences, but also because of its damaging effect upon his own
appreciation of Martin Ricardo. And this was a special job, of his own
contriving, and of considerable novelty. It was not, so to speak, in his
usual line of business--except, perhaps, from a moral standpoint, about
which he was not likely to trouble his head. For these reasons Martin
Ricardo was unable to sleep.

Mr Jones, after repeated shivering fits, and after drinking much hot
tea, had apparently fallen into deep slumber. He had very peremptorily
discouraged attempts at conversation on the part of his faithful
follower. Ricardo listened to his regular breathing. It was all very
well for the governor. He looked upon it as a sort of sport. A gentleman
naturally would. But this ticklish and important job had to be pulled
off at all costs, both for honour and for safety. Ricardo rose quietly,
and made his way on the veranda. He could not lie still. He wanted to
go out for air, and he had a feeling that by the force of his eagerness
even the darkness and the silence could be made to yield something to
his eyes and ears.

He noted the stars, and stepped back again into the dense darkness.
He resisted the growing impulse to go out an