"Yes," answered the quartermaster. "What do you want?"
"I want to see Mr. Browne, if he is aboard," the other answered.
"He is aboard," returned the quartermaster. "But I don't know whether he can see you. I will inquire."
"Who is he?" asked Browne. "Tell him to give you his name."
The quartermaster hailed the sampan again. "He says his name is MacAndrew, sir," he replied after a short pause, "and if you will see him, he says he will not detain you many minutes."
"Let him come aboard, then," said Browne. "Just tell him to look sharp." Then, turning to his guests, he continued, "I wonder who the fellow is, and what he wants with me at this hour of the night." In his own heart he thought he knew pretty well.
"By the way," remarked his guest, "I should advise you to keep your eyes open while you are in this port. You can have no idea what queer sort of people you will have to do with; but when I tell you that it is the favourite meeting-place for half the villains of the East, you will have some very good notion."
"Thanks for the warning," returned Browne. "I'll bear it in mind."
He had scarcely finished speaking, before the figure of a man appeared at the top of the gangway and came towards them. He was tall and slimly built, was dressed entirely in white, and wore a helmet of the same colour upon his head. From an indescribable something about him—it may possibly have been his graceful carriage or the drawl in his voice when he spoke—he might very well have passed for a gentleman.
"Mr. Browne?" he began, lifting his hat, and, as he did so, looking from one to another of the group.