you sit here evenings and ring up... well, ring on the angels... by

yourself?'

As a matter of historic fact, and since you put it directly, one does

not,' said Attwater. 'Why ring a bell, when there flows out from oneself

and everything about one a far more momentous silence? the least beat of

my heart and the least thought in my mind echoing into eternity for ever

and for ever and for ever.'

'O look 'ere,' said Huish, 'turn down the lights at once, and the Band

of 'Ope will oblige! This ain't a spiritual seance.'

'No folk-lore about Mr Whish--I beg your pardon, captain: Huish not

Whish, of course,' said Attwater.

As the boy was filling Huish's glass, the bottle escaped from his hand

and was shattered, and the wine spilt on the verandah floor. Instant

grimness as of death appeared on the face of Attwater; he smote the

bell imperiously, and the two brown natives fell into the attitude

of attention and stood mute and trembling. There was just a moment of

silence and hard looks; then followed a few savage words in the native;

and, upon a gesture of dismissal, the service proceeded as before.

None of the party had as yet observed upon the excellent bearing of the

two men. They were dark, undersized, and well set up; stepped softly,

waited deftly, brought on the wines and dishes at a look, and their eyes

attended studiously on their master.

143

The Ebb-Tide