“It looks very like sunstroke, indeed,” said the Doctor. “But where can he have disappeared to?”
“That’s the question that makes me feel uneasy,” said the Commissioner. “I don’t like to make a fuss just yet, but—I’ll tell you what it is, Koomadhi,”—he lowered his voice to a whisper,—“the man has a delusion that he is an ape—it’s impossible to keep it a secret any longer. God help us all! God help my poor girl—my poor girl!”
The Commissioner broke down completely, and wept with his face bowed down to his hands. He was very unofficial—tears are not official.
“Come, sir, you must not give way like this,” said the Doctor. “This coast is the very devil for men like Minton, who will not take reasonable precautions. But there’s no reason to be alarmed just yet. The Penguin will be here in a few days, and the instant the steamer drops her anchor we’ll ship him aboard. He’ll be all right, take my word for it, when he sails a few degrees northward.”
“But where is he now?”
“He’s probably loafing around the outskirts of the jungle; but he’ll be safe enough, and he’ll return, most likely, within the next few hours.”
“You are of that opinion?”
“Assuredly. Above all things, there must be no talk about this business,—it might ruin him socially; and your daughter——”
“Poor girl! poor girl! I agree with you, Koomadhi,—it must be kept a secret; no human being must know about this shocking business.”
“If he does not return before to-night, send a message to me, sir.”