chance
against me, Mac. The fact is I have a natural gift for cards."

"I don't know that there's much gift about it when I happen to deal you
fourteen aces."

"Good cards come to good players," retorted Walker. "I'd have won if I'd
had your hands."

He went on to tell long stories of the various occasions on which he had
played cards with notorious sharpers and to their consternation had
taken all their money from them. He boasted. He praised himself. And
Mackintosh listened with absorption. He wanted now to feed his hatred;
and everything Walker said, every gesture, made him more detestable. At
last Walker got up.

"Well, I'm going to turn in," he said with a loud yawn. "I've got a long
day to-morrow."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm driving over to the other side of the island. I'll start at five,
but I don't expect I shall get back to dinner till late."

They generally dined at seven.

"We'd better make it half past seven then."

"I guess it would be as well."

Mackintosh watched him knock the ashes out of his pipe. His vitality was
rude and exuberant. It was strange to think that death hung over him. A
faint smile flickered in Mackintosh's cold, gloomy eyes.

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"What in God's name should I want that for? I'm using the mare and
she'll have enough to do to carry me; she don't want to drag you over
thirty miles of road."

"Perhaps you don't quite realise what the feeling is at Matautu. I think
it would be safer if I came with you."

Walker burst into contemptuous laughter.

"You'd be a fine lot of use in a scrap. I'm not a great hand at getting
the wind up."

Now the smile passed from Mackintosh's eyes to his lips. It distorted
them painfully.

"_Quem deus vult perdere prius dementat._"

"What the hell is that?" said Walker.

"Latin," answered Mackintosh as he went out.

And now he chuckled. His mood had changed. He had done all he could and
the matter was in the hands of fate. He slept more soundly than he had
done for weeks. When he awoke next morning he went out. After a good
night he found a pleasant exhilaration in the freshness of the early
air. The sea was a more vivid blue, the sky more brilliant, than on most
days, the trade wind was fresh, and there was a ripple on the lagoon as
the breeze brushed over it like velvet brushed the wrong way. He felt
himself stronger and younger. He entered upon the day's work with zest.
After luncheon he slept