Rupert looked hard at him. "You may find the experiment dangerous. On the whole, my servants are staunch and know the advantage of keeping out foreigners. Well, this is your affair, and since it's plain we can't agree, I won't stay."
He got up and while Marston studied him with a touch of horror he seemed to change, as if he shook off the superficial civilization he had worn. His lips got thick and stuck out; they looked strangely red and sensual. His eyes got dull and the colored veins were plainer, and he rubbed one bare foot with the other's flexible toes. Marston felt he had reverted to the old mulatto.
"You go dash me them bottle?" he said with a grin.
They let him pick up the bottle of brandy, he climbed the ladder, and the hatch slid back. There was no noise on deck and they did not hear a paddle splash, but they knew he had gone. Marston drained his glass and looked at Wyndham, whose face was rather white. He saw Harry had got a jar, and said nothing.
After a few moments Wyndham broke out: "At the last, he looked a half-breed. A trick of pushing out his lips and stretching his nostrils, perhaps; but one feels he is a half-breed. I think he will never really be a white man again. He gave no hint of regret for all that he has lost; it was rather horrible to see he was content."
"He is content, he has done with civilization," said Marston quietly. "We must remember this."
Wyndham nodded. "From now, we have not to deal with Rupert Wyndham, but with the Bat. To some extent, it makes the job easier. All the same, we can't give him up to Larrinaga. It's unlucky we could not have kept him on board."
"That was impossible. Your asking him to come implied that he was safe. Besides, we were forced to try persuasion first. Well, we have tried. What's the next plan?"
"I have none. We must wait."
"Do you think he was satisfied with the grounds we gave for stopping? I mean, do you imagine he believes we merely want to trade?"