me about someone at
Pondicherry. Of course I had heard of no one there. But my ignorance was
wholly put on; he was sure of that. Often and often I caught his eyes on
me, and I knew his mind was pondering theories to account for my
conduct. It was all very well for me or anyone else to say that
Pondicherry was talked elsewhere than in his own home. He had travelled,
he had been in Australia, in England, in many parts of the East, and he
had never, never met anyone but himself and myself who knew it! I think
he would have given me a month's pay if I would have only owned up to
having been at Pondicherry. He certainly offered me an ample plateful of
curried shark, a part of one we had caught days before, if I would be
frank about the matter; but even my desire to obtain possession of that
smell and drop it overboard did not tempt me to a white lie. I persisted
in remaining an Englishman through the whole passage of one hundred and
two days. And then at last, after good times and bad, after calms on
the Line and no small hurricane south of stormy Cape Leuuwin, we came up
with Cape Otway and entered the Heads. Pondicherry's time for solving
the mystery grew short. In another few hours the passengers would go
ashore and be never seen again. For my own part, though the passage had
been one of pure discomfort, I was almost sorry to leave the old ship. I
had to quit a number of friends, black and white, and had to face a new
and perhaps unfriendly world. Though the _Hydrabad_ half-starved me I
was at anyrate sure of water and biscuit. And many of the poor Lascars
had been chums to me. As I made preparations to leave the vessel and
stood on deck waiting, I saw Pondicherry sneaking about in the
background. I said farewell to his old serang, and the Malay
quartermasters, who were all fine men, and to some of the meaner outcast
Klings, and then Pondicherry darted up to me. I knew quite well what was
in his mind. It was in his very eyes. I was now going, and should be
seen no more. Perhaps at the last I might be induced to speak the truth.
And even if I did not own up bravely, it was at anyrate necessary to bid
farewell to a countryman, though he denied his own country. He came
close to me in the crowd and touched my sleeve appealingly.

"What is it, Pondy?"

"Oh, sahib, you tell me _now_ where you learn Pondicherry?"

"Pondy, I told you the truth long ago," I answered.

"Sahib, it is not possible."

He turned away, and I went o