His voice sank almost to a whisper as he uttered the last words. They seemed to hang and tremble upon the silent air for some seconds after he had finished; the effect was complete upon his audience. He left the piano and came out again to the veranda.
"Thank you. You are a wonderful singer," said Esther, tears still wet upon her eyelashes. "I have never heard anything like your voice before, and yet we have had many well-known singers among the pearlers in the settlement."
Ellison was silent. The influence of the music and the wail of the song were still upon him, and he could not shake them off. They seemed in some mysterious fashion to remind him of his dead but not forgotten past.
Merton seated himself, and turned the conversation into another channel. He had created the effect he desired, and that was sufficient for the present. He did not want to appear conceited.
"Hark!" said Esther suddenly, holding up her hand. "I thought I heard someone calling."
They all listened, but no sound rewarded their attention.
"The sea," said her husband, "or a night-bird in the scrub."
"Where is Mr. Murkard to-night?" asked Esther. "I have not seen him since you returned."
Merton suddenly leaned forward, and then as suddenly sat back. Ellison noticed his action, but attached no importance to it.
"He's not at all well, dear. As I'm rather anxious about him, I induced him to go to bed."