n the
morning. As they walked slowly up the beach, Mercier spoke of the
beauty of the place, the extraordinary beauty of the island. They
seemed not to heed him. They smiled, and reminded him that he was a
newcomer, and that such was the feeling of all newcomers and that it
would soon pass. And in a body, ten of them, they conducted Mercier to
the bureau of the Administrator, a tired, middle aged men, who shook
hands without cordiality, and ordered a boy to bring a tray with a
bottle and glasses and mouldy biscuits, and they all sat together and
drank without merriment. It was dark in the Administrator's office,
for the surrounding verandah was very wide and deep, and tall bamboos
grew close against the edges of the railing, and a little way behind
the bamboos grew banana trees and travellers' palms, all reaching high
into the air and making a thick defence against the sunlight. The
stone floor had been freshly sprinkled with water, and the ceiling was
high, made of dark teak wood, and it was very dark inside, and damp
and rather cool. There was a punkah hanging from the ceiling, but it
stood at rest. Its movement had come to make the Administrator
nervous. He was very nervous and restless, turning his head from side
to side in quick, sharp jerks, first over one shoulder and then the
other, and now and then suddenly bending down to glance under the
table. Later on, some one explained to Mercier that the Administrator
had a profound fear of insects, the fierce, crawling, stinging things
that lived outside under the bamboos, and that crept in sometimes
across the stone paved floor, and bit. Only last week, one of the
paroled convicts, working in the settlement, had been bitten by some
venomous evil thing, and had died a few hours later. Such accidents
were common--one must always be on guard. Most people became used to
being on guard, but with the Administrator, the thing had become a
nightmare. He had been out too long--his nerves were tortured. It was
the heat, of course--the stifling, enervating heat. Few could stand it
for very long, and the authorities back home must have forgotten to
relieve the old man--he was such a good executive, perhaps they had
forgotten on purpose. The sub-officials were changed from time to
time, but the old man seemed to have been forgotten. He could not
stand it much longer--that was obvious.

Mercier went thoughtfully to the bungalow assigned to him, installed
his few meagre possessions,