Marston was puzzled; somehow Don Felix looked afraid. The first part of his statement was easier to understand, because Marston had learned in Africa that negroes and uncivilized half-breeds slip easily out of life and often seem to know when theirs will end. But if Don Felix was not afraid to go, what did he fear?
"Is there nobody about? Where are the working boys?" Wyndham asked.
"They have gone; they know," Don Felix replied, and Marston felt half daunted as he asked himself; What did the boys know? "But you will stay?" the other went on anxiously.
"Of course," said Wyndham in a quiet voice.
Father Sebastian looked up, as if to thank him, and Marston saw Harry had taken the proper line. He felt there was no use in trying to persuade Don Felix he was not very ill. It was significant that the priest had not tried.
"Now we will talk a little," Don Felix said to Wyndham. "There is some business to talk about."
Wyndham glanced at Father Sebastian, who made a sign of permission, and then got up and went to the door with Marston. They sat down on a bench outside and a beam of light and the dull voices of the others came through the door. Marston did not hear the woman; she had not spoken at all, but sat motionless and huddled. He had not seen her face and never knew what she was like. All was quiet in the village, and outside the feeble beam the gloom was strangely deep. Marston sympathized with Don Felix's liking for plenty of light.
"What has caused his illness?" he asked.
"Poison, I think," Father Sebastian replied. "Our friend is a good Catholic, but he is half persuaded it is something else."
"The other thing's ridiculous, though I suppose they claim to use magic in the bush. But you ought to know something about native poisons."