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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.
He had seen the boat, with the men at the oars; and here Wang made a particular gesture over his eyes, as if his vision had received a blow. He had turned at once and run to the house to report. "No mistake, eh?" said Heyst, moving on. At the very outer edge of the belt he stopped short. Wang halted behind him on the path, till the voice of Number One called him sharply forward into the open.
The other man went on looking at the floor, as if he were alone in the room. There was a pause. "You have heard of me, then?" Heyst said at length, looking up. "I should think so! We have been staying at Schomberg's hotel." "Schom " Heyst choked on the word. "What's the matter, Mr. Heyst?" "Nothing. Nausea," Heyst said resignedly. He resumed his former attitude of meditative indifference.
She no longer wondered at that bitter riddle, since her heart found its solution in a blinding, hot glow of passionate pride. She passed by Heyst as if she had indeed been blinded by some secret, lurid, and consuming glare into which she was about to enter. The curtain of the bedroom door fell behind her into rigid folds.
This was known afterwards from the Javanese boatmen whom Heyst hired for the purpose at three o'clock in the morning. The Tesman schooner had sailed at daylight with the usual land breeze, and was probably still in sight in the offing at the time. However, the two pursuers after their experience with the American mate, made for the shore.
Some said he was a partner, others said he was a sort of paying guest, but the real truth of the matter was more complex. One day Heyst turned up in Timor. Why in Timor, of all places in the world, no one knows.
"There's a lot of unexpectedness about women," he generalized with a didactic aim which seemed to miss its mark; for the next thing Heyst said was: "This is Mrs. Schomberg's shawl." He touched the stuff hanging over his arm. "An Indian thing, I believe," he added, glancing at his arm sideways. "It isn't of particular value," said Davidson truthfully. "Very likely.
But Morrison believed both, in the efficacy of prayer and in the infinite goodness of Heyst. He thanked God with awed sincerity for his mercy, and could not thank Heyst enough for the service rendered as between man and man. Ultimately we heard that Morrison had gone home through the Suez Canal in order to push the magnificent coal idea personally in London.
Though no physiologist, she concluded that all that sudden numbness was in her head, not in her limbs. Her fears assuaged, she thanked God for it mentally, and to Heyst murmured a protest: "Oh, yes! He's got to do with everything every little thing. Nothing can happen " "Yes," he said hastily, "one of the two sparrows can't be struck to the ground you are thinking of that."
As to the man, Wang had long looked upon him as being in some sort bewitched; and now he was doomed. He heard their voices in the room. Heyst was urging the girl to go and lie down again. He was extremely concerned. She had eaten nothing. "The best thing for you. You really must!" She sat listless, shaking her head from time to time negatively, as if nothing could be any good.
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