They came on to the veranda of the house, took off their hats, then the elder of them presented a letter to Basil. “From the Senor Felizardo,” he said.
Basil opened it, wondering; then, as he read, the wonder changed to utter astonishment, for it ran:—
“The Senor Felizardo sends his compliments to the Captain of the Constabulary, who, as he hears, will no longer be his foe in the field, but can now be his friend in all things. That is good. But he hears with grief that the Captain will be leaving the Islands; and that is bad. Therefore, Felizardo hastens to pay his debts. Once, many months ago, the Captain returned to him his daughter, whom, next to his wife, he loved best of all things in this world; and Felizardo promised then to repay the good deed. Now he sends, in this basket, the thing the Captain most desires to have.”
Captain Hayle handed the note to the priest, then he turned to the messengers. “Open the basket,” he said.
But they shook their heads. “Not here on the balcony, where the tao can see. It should be taken inside the house, Senor.”
They set it on a table, and then they withdrew, whilst Basil was undoing the cords, which held down the lid. First he came on a layer of leaves, which he threw on the floor, then he raised a white linen cloth, and sprang back with a cry of horror; for there, livid and ghastly, was the head of John Bush, late of the Philippine Scouts. A few minutes later, when he went to look for the messengers, they were gone, although he could see a canoe with two men in it being paddled in leisurely fashion across the bay.
Basil took the ghastly trophy to an outhouse, thinking as he went, “The head-hunters would treasure this,” for there was not a spark of pity in his mind, even though he had yet to hear of those two blows which Mrs Bush had received on the mouth; then he went back to the veranda where Father Doyle was waiting.
“It served him right,” he said curtly; and, after a pause, he added: “I was going to kill him myself. Felizardo says the only law that counts is the Law of the Bolo, and he is right.”
Father Doyle did not reply, having no answer ready, and knowing, in his own heart, that what had happened was for the best.
“I must go to Igut,” Basil spoke suddenly; and now the priest nodded in approval.