“Melton Hanney is at Port Cecil,” said Gregory with a shrug of his shoulders. “If one cannot trust the man in place one may as well throw up the sponge. I do not suppose that Lewin’s indiscretions will lead to international trouble, but if they did—it means a certain expenditure of men and money,” he ended composedly.
Halton turned his face slowly to the man who was his better by just the larger qualities that made him without fear, and it was ugly to see. As the Administrator put his foot on the gang-plank to leave the ship, his fellow in office spoke softly, barbed words that were intended for, and reached no other ears.
“‘Some of the King’s servants be dead,’” he quoted slowly, “‘and thy servant Uriah the Hittite is dead also!’” It was the last that passed between them.
CHAPTER XVII
“He needs a clever counsel who stands at the world’s tribunal.”—English Proverb.
Mrs. Lewin had not seen Diana Churton, save at passing moments, for a period of some weeks, but she encountered her on the day she started for Vohitra. Diana had called in company with other women in the Station, during the time following Ally’s departure; but Leoline had always looked upon her as her husband’s friend, and did not expect, or desire, an equal attention to herself. Diana’s scanty visits had not impressed her in any way, and her own absorption during those drifting, golden weeks blinded her usual observation. It struck her with a positive shock that Mrs. Churton had aged when she came face to face with her in the morning sunlight on the quay; but the knowledge even then lay dormant in her mind, not to be considered upon until some day she might have need of it.
The Administrator had placed his yacht at her disposal, and she made use of it in preference to the coasting steamer, which otherwise was the only means of transport to Port Albert. The yacht was a fussy, old-fashioned little steamboat in itself, prone to kick in the deep current that washed the east coast of the island; but at least she did not smell of oil, and she had passenger accommodation, while the coasting steamers had none save the dirty deck, which was crowded with fruit and coloured people in about equal proportions. Mrs. Lewin accepted the hospitality of the Hova, and found herself the only passenger.
Liscarton came also, to his deep disgust and the degradation of his dignity. He had been Captain Nugent’s last gift to Leoline, who accepted him with a faint smile at the remembrance of Mrs. Gilderoy’s comments on the significance of a pony in Key’land. Brissy left by the mail that also took Halton out of the Rat-trap. He came up to the bungalow to say good-bye, and sat looking desperate for twenty minutes, while Mrs. Lewin unconsciously made him more unhappy by loving him across the room with her speaking eyes. He had so often bored her by lingering at her tea-table that she felt her reluctance to let him go on this occasion a judgment upon her, and was always a little ashamed in her after life to remember that she had very nearly kissed him. Fortunately for his peace of mind, Captain Bristow Nugent thought his chance of heaven no more remote than such a privilege.
It was in turning round to watch Liscarton’s vagaries in embarking that Leoline Lewin saw another pony being led off by a groom, and a dust-coloured habit that she knew advancing on her. Beneath the white helmet Diana’s face seemed to have fallen in and grown pinched; her hard-burnt colour had faded somewhat, and her eyes were the eyes of an uncertain beast—some wild thing in captivity that awaits a chance to bite its keeper through all its habit of obedience. Her loud voice was alone unchanged. It greeted Mrs. Lewin with the same bluff comradeship she adopted in her feminine friendships.
“So you’re off to Vohitra! Best thing you could do. I wish I could get up there too.”