The party then separated, and many were the comments on Captain Puffeigh's extraordinary behaviour.
Where was Alayā?—Crouched in the verandah under the captain sahib's window, and crying quietly for "love of the beautiful one, who kissed her, and made her heart beat so; the handsome sahib who took such notice of poor little Alayā. Now he was sick and might die. Oh, sad! and his slave not near him. Would she could creep between the jalousies, and crouch at the foot of his bed. She could see his eyes now, they were—"
"Alayā!" cried her mother, "where are you? Come, my child, there's no more fanning to do to-night; go to your mat."
So the little half-caste retired to rest, or rather curled herself up on her mat, and wept until morning broke.
Before sunrise Jerry was up and stirring. After a search he secured his clothes, and was quite ready to leave the bungalow, but he still crept about the passages, candle in hand. Did he want to say good-bye to his kind host? No. Was it a soda and brandy he required? No. As he explored the matted corridors, he murmured, "I wish to goodness I could find out if Alayer's about, I would so like to apologize to her for my rudeness."
However, not finding her, he left the house, managing to get away without observation.
Thompson walked down to the hotel, changed his clothes, packed Puffeigh's up with the pines in a basket, placed a bottle of grog under all, and taking a shore boat, made the best of his way on board his ship.
Crushe was walking the quarter-deck, when the coxswain reported himself as having "come aboard."
"Why were you not back last night?" demanded the angry first lieutenant.