Brabant stopped in his walk, and Lester and Pedro Diaz drew aside a little.

“There must be something wrong about him, Bruce, else I am sure you would not speak as you do. We four are all old friends. Speak freely.”

“That's just the thing I cannot do, Brabant. I don't like him, and can only repeat what I have said just now—he's not a straight man—not a man I would bring into my house as a friend! Now I must be going. Good-night, old fellow. I'm off again to my place in the morning.”

Brabant took his outstretched hand. “Goodnight, Bruce. I wish there were more outspoken men like you in the world. I under stand.

He spoke the last two words with such a look in his deep-set eyes, that Bruce felt that he did at least understand that Captain Danvers was not a man to be trusted—outside of business matters.

CHAPTER III

About a week after Dr. Bruce had returned to his plantation Brabant and his wife were talking in their dining-room, from the wide-open windows of which the little harbour of Levuka lay basking in the fervid glow of the westering sun.

Pipe in mouth, and with a smile on his bronzed, rugged face, Brabant was scanning a heap of accounts which were lying on the table. His wife, seated in an easy-chair near the window, fanned herself languidly.

“You've spent a lot of money, Nell, in five months—nearly a thousand pounds. Two hundred a month is a big item to a man in my position.”

“But you are very well off, Jack. You told me yesterday that you will clear three thousand pounds from this last voyage.”