“‘A mongoose! eh? What? Who’s afraid?’ spluttered O’Brady.
“‘Yes, a mongoose! That was the cold nose you felt. It jumped on top of my bed, it is now nestling round my neck. Darling, then, pretty pet!’
“‘Very well explained,’ said the old captain, ‘very well indeed. Quite accounts for the milk in the cocoanut. Good-night—good-night!’
“Both awoke at the same moment next morning, sat up in their beds—facing each other—and rubbed their eyes. They gave one glance up at the tall window, through which the sunlight was streaming in many-coloured rays, then rubbed their eyes, then looked at each other again.
“‘I couldn’t make out where I was for a moment,’ said O’Brady.
“‘Nor I,’ replied Brackenbury.
“There was a knock at the door.
“‘Can I come in, geentlemans?’ said a voice with a strong foreign accent.
“‘Pull the latch,’ said O’Brady, seeing that his companion hesitated.
“Brackenbury did as told, and a servant glided into the room, a dark little pale-faced Portuguese.