low mutter, staring
intently at the Number One bungalow. "It's quite irrational," he
declared in a still lower tone.

"Better go in, sir," suggested Ricardo. "What's that? Those screens
weren't down before. He's spying from behind them now, I bet--the
dodging, artful, plotting beast!"

"Why not go over there and see if we can't get to the bottom of this
game?" was the unexpected proposal uttered by Mr. Jones. "He will have
to talk to us."

Ricardo repressed a start of dismay, but for a moment could not speak.
He only pressed the governor's hand to his side instinctively.

"No, sir. What could you say? Do you expect to get to the bottom of his
lies? How could you make him talk? It isn't time yet to come to grips
with that gent. You don't think I would hang back, do you? His Chink, of
course, I'll shoot like a dog the moment I catch sight of him; but as
to that Mr. Blasted Heyst, the time isn't yet. My head's cooler just now
than yours. Let's go in again. Why, we are exposed here. Suppose he
took it into his head to let off a gun on us! He's an unaccountable,
'yporcritical skunk."

Allowing himself to be persuaded, Mr. Jones returned to his seclusion.
The secretary, however, remained on the veranda--for the purpose, he
said, of seeing whether that Chink wasn't sneaking around; in which
case he proposed to take a long shot at the galoot and chance the
consequences. His real reason was that he wanted to be alone, away from
the governor's deep-sunk eyes. He felt a sentimental desire to indulge
his fancies in solitude. A great change had come over Mr. Ricardo since
that morning. A whole side of him which from prudence, from necessity,
from loyalty, had been kept dormant, was aroused now, colouring
his thoughts and disturbing his mental poise by the vision of such
staggering consequences as, for instance, the possibility of an active
conflict with the governor. The appearance of the monstrous Pedro with
his news drew Ricardo out of a feeling of dreaminess wrapped up in a
sense of impending trouble. A woman? Yes, there was one; and it made all
the difference. After driving away Pedro, and watching the white
helmets of Heyst and Lena vanishing among the bushes he stood lost in
meditation.

"Where could they be off to like this?" he mentally asked himself.

The answer found by his speculative faculties on their utmost stretch
was--to meet that Chink. For in the desertion of Wang Ricardo did not
believe. It was a lying ya