He had no time to think of what he was to do, because at that moment Letcombe-Bassett appeared: he seemed to be in a much better temper than hitherto.
“So you’re up,” he said. “Good. There’s nothing like the bally dawn in these bally tropics: one soon gets into forest habits here: they are the only ways that keep one alive here. As soon as Chug-chug brings our chow, we’ll pasea.”
“It’s jolly good of you,” Hi said, “to see me off upon my road.”
“Not a bit,” the man answered. “Out here, an Englishman with another Englishman, that is the least one could do.”
Hi thought that to see a man off the premises is perhaps the least that one can do: he also thought that the man’s mood had strangely changed for the better since the night before. Then he had been savage at the thought of showing the way: now he was eager to show it. It occurred to him that there might be a reason for this change, and that this reason, coming from an unpleasant nature, might be an unpleasant one.
“I suppose I might reach the road before to-night?” Hi said.
“Reach what road?”
“The road to Santa Barbara?”
“Oh, that road,” the man said. “I’m not so sure.”
“But you said it was only twenty miles.”