"It's the coral isle called Minacoy," volunteered Carew, looking out. "It's the most southerly atoll of the Laccadive group of islands, and when the sea is rough it is almost invisible."
They all went out to have a look. The Mongolia passed quite close to the coral beach, and though the sea was calm the roar of the surge beating on the shallows was plainly heard. A tall lighthouse with a background of palms was observable, and a solitary watcher came out while they gazed and waved a friendly greeting.
"What a lonely life the lighthouse keeper's must be!" said Jack, and he expressed the sentiments of all.
The next day the Mongolia arrived at Colombo, and here the boys saw much to interest them. The spacious harbour with its huge artificial breakwater was in itself a great attraction, and they watched the clouds of spray that dashed full fifty feet into the air all along the guarding barrier with keen delight. But on shore the rickshaw rides surpassed all other forms of amusement. They visited the far-famed Cinnamon gardens in these strange vehicles, they tried races along the Galle Face road, and lastly rickshawed with Mackay to Mount Lavinia some five miles distant from the town. The Cingalese gem merchants who swarmed everywhere were a source of wonder to them. They marvelled how so many seemingly needy individuals possessed such stores of rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and pearls, and which, according to their demands, were worth a prince's ransom. Mackay only laughed when Jack mentioned his surprise at their apparent affluence.
"You want to develop your powers o' observation, my laddie," said he, enigmatically; and Jack, not quite understanding the rebuke, was in no wise edified. Bob, too, was rather impressed by the courtesy of the same fraternity.
"Master," an odd-looking personage in flowing garb and with plaited hair would say, "Master, you buy goodie ruby from me?" and at once a string of somewhat similarly attired merchants would gather round and watch the expected process of bargaining silently. But they were not quite as innocent and free from guile as they looked.
"What do you think of this, Bob?" cried Jack, holding up a huge crystal, which a smiling Cingalee with a strange little basket for a cap had proffered him for sale. They were sitting under the revolving fans in the Hotel Bristol, watching the gay panorama of colour that constantly flitted before them. Mackay had left them to their own devices for an hour or so, and they were now awaiting his return.
Bob examined the gaudy crystal with pretended keenness.
"No good; it's only glass," he said shortly, never dreaming that his idle statement was correct.