"We turned to depart, and when we got into the street Stevens said to me: 'I'll see you home. I'm afraid I busted the show.'
"'I'm afraid you have; but it's no use crying over spilt milk.'
"Stevens made no answer, and we walked back to my rooms without saying a word. At the door he left me abruptly, refusing all offers to come in. Once in my rooms, I tried to think out the matter, but gave it up and went to bed. Sleep wouldn't come, so I lay awake the whole night, picturing to myself over and over again the grim scene I had seen enacted in the mirror. Towards morning I dropped into a troubled sleep, and awoke rather late. I got out of bed thinking that the events of the past night were, after all, nothing more than a dream; but it all came back to me. When I went down to breakfast I found Stevens waiting for me, and he pressed me earnestly to join him in a search for the place we had seen in the looking-glass. I was in an irritable mood. 'Great Scott!' I said, 'can't you see that all this is only a conjurer's trick? How many thousand Gautamas are there in Burma? Are you going to dig them all up?'
"'Some men don't know their luck, pard,' he said, as he left me; and, although I thought of him sometimes, I never heard anything more of him for a long time.
"A run of bad luck came now, and the boss suspended payment--went bung, in fact--and I was thrown on my beam ends. I had something in the stocking, though; and it was about this time that my thoughts kept turning continually towards the orchid trade. It first struck me in this way: A friend of mine had written from home, pointing out that a demand had arisen for orchids; and the small supply I sent was sold on such favourable terms that I was seriously considering a larger venture. I thought the matter over, and one evening after dinner determined to give it a final consideration. So I lit my pipe, and strolled out towards the jetties--a favourite walk of mine. It was bright moonlight; and I walked up and down the planking, more and more resolved at every turn I took to decide upon the orchid business.
"At one end of the jetty there was a crane that stretched out its arm in a how-de-do sort of manner to the river below it. I walked up to it with idle curiosity, and when I came close, saw the figure of a European, apparently fast asleep, near the carriage of the crane. A common 'drunk' or a loafer, I thought to myself--when the figure rose to a sitting posture, and, as the moonlight shone on its face, I could not make a mistake.
"'Stevens!' I said.
"'Wal, pard?' and Hake Stevens, without another word, rose up and stood before me.
"I saw at a glance that he was in rags, and that about the third of one stockingless foot was protruding in an easy manner from his boot; the other boot seemed more or less wearable. Stevens had a habit of walking with a lurch to his left--heeling over to port, as it were--which accounted for the fact I observed.
"'Why,' I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, 'how has it come to this? Why didn't you come to me?'