“Oh, prettier than that, young Bill. She’s the prettiest thing that ever lived—or ever died. And she was such a lovely little lunatic herself that we get on famously. We know what a joke it all is, don’t we, Biddy? God be praised, we even know when it’s on us. There now, back you go, mavourneen, while Mr. Billee Ledyar’ and I start out hunting for another lady. Bill, take a look across the kampong at the sun while I hunt up my helmet—if it’s lower than Bhakdi’s roof you’d better be off. It goes down like a rocket in these parts, once it gets started.”
Young Ledyard flung open the great wooden door that had barred out the heat, and a little breeze came dancing in, barely stirring the strange glossy leaves that clustered about the ladder-like steps. The sky was blue as steel; behind the black shadow of the Sultan’s residence there were livid streaks—the world was silent and alien as a dream. He shivered strongly, and stepped back into the room.
“The sun’s set,” he said. “There’s someone coming across from that shack you call a palace.”
The Honourable Tony strolled leisurely out of his bedroom.
“Ghundi!” he commented after a brief inspection. “The incomparable Ghundi.”
“Who the devil’s Ghundi?”
“He’s my head boy, William, and the delight of my soul; the only honest man I ever knew, saving your presence. I’ve taught him English, and he’s taught me considerably more than that—oh, considerably. What tidings, Ghundi?”
The bronze statue saluted with a grave and beautiful precision.
“Master, the Great One says that the white woman stays. Let your friend return down the waters without her.”
The Honourable Tony lifted his brows.