scarcely a word. He was a
strange little man, a nineteenth century villain in a sense. He was a
rogue and a vagabond, yet his one hobby, apart from his business, was a
study of the Past, and many an authority on Eastern History would have
been astonished at the extent of his learning. He was never so happy as
when burrowing amongst ancient records, and it was mainly due to his
learning in the first place, and to a somewhat singular accident in the
second, that the trio were now foregathered in Singapore. His personal
appearance was a peculiar one. His height was scarcely more than four
feet six inches. His face was round, and at a distance appeared almost
boyish. It was only when one came to look into it more closely, that it
was seen to be scored by numberless small lines. Moreover it was
unadorned by either beard or moustache. His hair was grey, and was worn
somewhat longer than is usual. He could speak fluently almost every
language of the East, and had been imprisoned by the Russians for
sealing in prohibited waters, had been tortured by the Chinese on the
Yang-tse, and, to his own unextinguishable disgrace, flogged by the
French in Tonquin. Not the least curious trait in his character was the
affection he entertained for Kitwater. The pair had been together for
years, had quarrelled repeatedly, but had never separated. The record of
their doings would form an interesting book, but for want of space
cannot be more than referred to here. Hayle had been their partner in
not a few of their curious undertakings, for his courage and resource
made him a valuable ally, though how far they trusted each other it is
impossible to say.

Breakfast over they adjourned to the verandah, where the inevitable
cigars made their appearance.

"Now, let's hear what you've got to say to me?" Hayle began.

"Not here," Kitwater replied. "There are too many listeners. Come down
to the harbour."

So saying he led his companions to the waterside, where he chartered a
native boat for an hour's sail. Then, when they were out of earshot of
the land, he bade Hayle pay attention to what he had to say.

"First and foremost you must understand," he said, "that it's all due to
Coddy here. We heard something of it from an old Siamese in Hanoi, but
we never put much trust in it. Then Coddy began to look around, to hunt
up some of his fusty records, and after awhile he began to think that
there might be something in the story after all. You see it'