“No, for goodness’ sake, Doctor! And Sir Charles is there!”
“No, he isn’t. I heard him start ten minutes ago.”
“But you are not going to tell them what I said?”
“Do I ever tell my patients’ secrets to anybody? Now, look here, Archie; you want to jump right into your manhood at once?”
“Of course I do, sir.”
“Well, my lad, I’m afraid you won’t have long to wait, for if I’m not very much mistaken your cure is coming.”
“What! mischief with the Malays, sir?”
“This is in confidence, my lad—yes. But look here,” continued the Doctor, lowering his voice, for at that moment voices were heard apparently approaching the Doctor’s room. “Tut, tut!” he muttered. “They have no business to be coming here now. I suppose they don’t class you as a patient. Humph! All right. They are not coming here. Look here, Archie,” he continued, as he threw himself back in his chair; “mine may only be suspicions, but situated as we are here amongst these people, who, in spite of their half-civilisation, have a good deal of the savage at heart and the natural strong dislike for those who hold them in subjection, it is good policy to be a little too wise and not careless and indifferent over matters that give one food for thought.”
“But, Doctor,”—said the young man earnestly, and with a touch of excitement in his tones.
“There, there, there, don’t fly out. I was only going to say that I can’t help feeling doubtful at times about our position here.”