"Between ourselves," said MacAndrew, "our friend yonder is scarcely the sort of man to travel with. He hasn't the heart of a louse, and is as suspicious as a rat."
Browne said nothing; he was thinking of Katherine, and what her feelings would be, when he should present this man to her as the father she had so long revered. He began to think that it would have been better, not only for the man himself, but for all parties concerned, if they had left him to meet his fate on the island.
CHAPTER XXVI
"Now, what about the yacht?" inquired MacAndrew. "We mustn't be caught here. It is impossible to say how soon the troops may be after us. There is a guard-house in Aniwa Bay; and they are certain to know before long, that a man has escaped from Dui and is heading this way."
"The yacht will be within signalling distance of this hut to-night at midnight," said Browne. "And you can see for yourself there are some rockets in that corner which I can fire. Then, within half an hour, she will send a boat ashore."
"Good," he remarked in a tone of approval. "Very good. You are the sort of man I like to do business with. For my part, I shall not be sorry to get out of this." He pointed to his disguise.
"I dare say you will not," answered Browne. "You have succeeded wonderfully well. I cannot tell you how much obliged I am to you."
"I am equally obliged to you," said MacAndrew, "so we can cry quits. I flatter myself that, all things considered, it has been a pretty good escape; but I could tell you of one or two which have been better. We mustn't shout too soon, however; we are not out of the wood yet." As he spoke he mixed himself another glass of grog and lit a cigar, the smoke of which he puffed through his nose with the enjoyment of a man, to whom such a luxury had been forbidden for some time past. Browne followed his example, and the two men smoked in silence, while the ex-Nihilist snored on the bed in the corner. Hour after hour they talked on. As Browne had suspected, MacAndrew proved the most interesting companion in the world. His life had been one long series of hairbreadth escapes; he had fought both for civilization and against it; had sold his services to native sultans and rajahs, had penetrated into the most dangerous places, and had met the most extraordinary people. Strange to relate, with it all, he had still preserved the air of a gentleman.
"Oxford man?" asked Browne after a moment's pause, without taking his eyes off the fire, and still speaking in the same commonplace tone. The other mentioned the name of a certain well-known college. Both felt that there was no more to be said, and they accordingly relapsed into silence.