t, right enough.
Put a book into his pocket, always very polite. Been strolling on
the wharf and reading. 'I remain in possession here,' he told Captain
Davidson. What I want to know is what he gets to eat there. A piece of
dried fish now and then--what? That's coming down pretty low for a man
who turned up his nose at my table d'hote!"

He winked with immense malice. A bell started ringing, and he led the
way to the dining-room as if into a temple, very grave, with the air
of a benefactor of mankind. His ambition was to feed it at a profitable
price, and his delight was to talk of it behind its back. It was very
characteristic of him to gloat over the idea of Heyst having nothing
decent to eat.

CHAPTER FOUR

A few of us who were sufficiently interested went to Davidson for
details. These were not many. He told us that he passed to the north of
Samburan on purpose to see what was going on. At first, it looked as if
that side of the island had been altogether abandoned. This was what he
expected. Presently, above the dense mass of vegetation that Samburan
presents to view, he saw the head of the flagstaff without a flag. Then,
while steaming across the slight indentation which for a time was known
officially as Black Diamond Bay, he made out with his glass the white
figure on the coaling-wharf. It could be no one but Heyst.

"I thought for certain he wanted to be taken off, so I steamed in. He
made no signs. However, I lowered a boat. I could not see another living
being anywhere. Yes. He had a book in his hand. He looked exactly as we
have always seen him--very neat, white shoes, cork helmet. He explained
to me that he had always had a taste for solitude. It was the first I
ever heard of it, I told him. He only smiled. What could I say? He isn't
the sort of man one can speak familiarly to. There's something in him.
One doesn't care to.

"'But what's the object? Are you thinking of keeping possession of the
mine?' I asked him.

"'Something of the sort,' he says. 'I am keeping hold.'

"'But all this is as dead as Julius Caesar,' I cried. 'In fact, you have
nothing worth holding on to, Heyst.'

"'Oh, I am done with facts,' says he, putting his hand to his helmet
sharply with one of his short bows."

Thus dismissed, Davidson went on board his ship, swung her out, and as
he was steaming away he watched from the bridge Heyst walking shoreward
along the wharf. He marched into the long grass and vanished--al