he Equator.

Thus it befell that every morning Mercier arose early, clad his feet
in noisy, clapping sandals, and went out for a walk along the red road
underlying the mountain. And every morning, almost by accident, he met
the half-witted child with her faithful Kling attendant. And the
Kling, squatting down upon his heels, chewed areca nut, and spat
widely and indifferently, while Mercier sat down beside the little
girl and wondered how long he could stand it--before his control gave
way. For she was a little animal, you see, and yearned for him in a
sort of fourteen-year-old style, fostered by the intense heat of the
Tropics. But Mercier, not yet very long from home, held back--because
of certain inhibitions. Sometimes he thought he would ask for her in
marriage--which was ridiculous, and showed that life in the Far East,
especially in a prison colony, affects the brain. At other times, he
thought how very awkward it would be, in such a little, circumscribed
community as that, if he did not ask her in marriage. Suppose she
babbled--as she might well do. There is no accounting for the
feeble-minded. But as the days grew on, madder and wilder he became,
earlier and earlier he arose to meet her, to go forth to find her on
the red road beneath the mountains. There she was always waiting for
him, while the Kling, her attendant, squatted chewing betel nut a
little farther on.

* * * * *

In time, he had enough. He had had quite enough. She was a stupid
fool, half-witted. He grew quite satiated. Also she grew alarmed. Very
much alarmed. But always, in the distance, with his back discreetly
turned, sat her Kling guardian, the paroled prisoner, chewing betel
nut. So his way out was easy. One day, about eleven o'clock in the
morning, clad in very immaculate white clothes, he came to call upon
the child's parents, with a painful duty to perform. He must report
what he had seen. When out taking his constitutional, he had seen
certain things in an isolated spot of the red road, leading up to the
mountains. These paroled prisoners could not be trusted--he had
intimated as much weeks ago. Therefore he made his report, his painful
report, as compelled by duty. In his pocket was his release--the
acceptance of his resignation. His recall from his post. When the boat
came in next time--that day, in fact--he would go. But he could not
go, with a clear conscience, till he had reported on what he had seen