chair near the door.

"At your service," he repeated, in quite another tone. "I was made aware
there was a lady about, by that Pedro of ours; only I didn't know I
should have the privilege of seeing you tonight, ma'am."

Lena and Heyst looked at him covertly, but he, with a vague gaze
avoiding them both, looked at nothing, seeming to pursue some point in
space.

"Had a pleasant walk?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes. And you?" returned Heyst, who had managed to catch his glance.

"I haven't been a yard away from the governor this afternoon till
I started for here." The genuineness of the accent surprised Heyst,
without convincing him of the truth of the words.

"Why do you ask?" pursued Ricardo with every inflection of perfect
candour.

"You might have wished to explore the island a little," said Heyst,
studying the man, who, to render him justice, did not try to free his
captured gaze. "I may remind you that it wouldn't be a perfectly safe
proceeding."

Ricardo presented a picture of innocence.

"Oh, yes--meaning that Chink that has ran away from you. He ain't much!"

"He has a revolver," observed Heyst meaningly.

"Well, and you have a revolver, too," Mr. Ricardo argued unexpectedly.
"I don't worry myself about that."

"That's different. I am not afraid of you," Heyst made answer after a
short pause.

"Of me?"

"Of all of you."

"You have a queer way of putting things," began Ricardo.

At that moment the door on the compound side of the house came open with
some noise, and Pedro entered, pressing the edge of a loaded tray to his
breast. His big, hairy head rolled a little, his feet fell in front of
each other with a short, hard thump on the floor. The arrival changed
the current of Ricardo's thought, perhaps, but certainly of his speech.

"You heard me whistling a little while ago outside? That was to give him
a hint, as I came along, that it was time to bring in the dinner; and
here it is."

Lena rose and passed to the right of Ricardo, who lowered his glance for
a moment. They sat down at the table. The enormous gorilla back of Pedro
swayed out through the door.

"Extraordinary strong brute, ma'am," said Ricardo. He, had a propensity
to talk about "his Pedro," as some men will talk of their dog. "He ain't
pretty, though. No, he ain't pretty. And he has got to be kept under. I
am his keeper, as it might be. The governor don't trouble his head much
about dee-tails. All that's left to Martin. Martin,