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Updated: June 6, 2025
Heyst did not depart. He shot it out suddenly, a propos des bottes, as the French say, and while chalking his cue. And perhaps it was some sort of enchantment. There are more spells than your commonplace magicians ever dreamed of. Roughly speaking, a circle with a radius of eight hundred miles drawn round a point in North Borneo was in Heyst's case a magic circle.
"One Chinaman looks very much like another," Heyst remarked. "We shall find it useful to have him here. This is the house." They faced, at some distance, the six shallow steps leading up to the veranda. The girl had abandoned Heyst's arm. "This is the house," he repeated.
With loud panting, Ricardo scrambled on his hands and knees upon the wharf, energetic and unaided. He rose up at Heyst's elbow and stamped his foot on the planks, with a sharp, provocative, double beat, such as is heard sometimes in fencing-schools before the adversaries engage their foils. Not that the renegade seaman Ricardo knew anything of fencing.
She made a sign with her head that she knew; Heyst's insistence brought Ricardo vividly before her mental vision. A sudden languor, like the physical echo of her struggle with the man, paralysed all her limbs. She lay still in the chair, feeling very frightened at this phenomenon ready to pray aloud for strength. Heyst had started to pace the room. "Our guest!
Heyst's polite attention to the tale took on a sombre cast; but he manifested no surprise, and offered no comment. When Davidson had finished he handed down the shawl into the boat, and Davidson promised to do his best to return it to Mrs. Schomberg in some secret fashion. Heyst expressed his thanks in a few simple words, set off by his manner of finished courtesy. Davidson prepared to depart.
After hearing this wondrous tale, Davidson went away from the hotel veranda, which was filling with Schomberg's regular customers. Heyst's escapade was the general topic of conversation. Never before had that unaccountable individual been the cause of so much gossip, he judged. No!
He had grown generally neglectful, but with a partiality for reckless expedients, as if he did not care when and how his career as a hotel-keeper was to be brought to an end. This demoralized state accounted for what Davidson had observed on his last visit to the Schomberg establishment, some two months after Heyst's secret departure with the girl to the solitude of Samburan.
He started his wide blue breeches flapping about his yellow calves. Heyst watched him quietly. "I never said you had it on you," he observed, without raising his voice; "but the revolver is gone from where I kept it." "Me no savee levolvel," Wang said obstinately. The book lying open on Heyst's knee slipped suddenly and he made a sharp movement to catch it up.
Unheard by them both, the thunder growled distantly with angry modulations of it's tremendous voice, while the world outside shuddered incessantly around the dead stillness of the room where the framed profile of Heyst's father looked severely into space.
And again he addressed his quick grin up to the man on the wharf. His round eyes had never left Heyst's face ever since he began to deliver his account of the voyage. "So that's how he looks!" Ricardo was saying to himself. He had not expected Heyst to be like this. He had formed for himself a conception containing the helpful suggestion of a vulnerable point.
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