‘Upon my honour I believe there’s nothing wrong,’ he said slowly, as though weighing a thought within himself, ‘only my wife’s rather given to nervous fits, you know.’ This apologetically. ‘Ummm.... Well, if you won’t tell us you won’t--beg your pardon for asking; are we keeping you up?’ Again a silence, then Hay said to himself: ‘Oh! D----n it, it can’t be.’ He turned to the other two. ‘Look here, you fellows,’ he said, ‘you’re gentlemen, and you’re both of you fond of old Synge; what I say to you now, whatever you may think of it, goes no further?’ ‘Certainly not,’ from Clemenson. Taplin shook his head; he was nothing if not brief. ‘Well! It’s a longish yarn, and I think I’ll just go in and speak to my wife before I begin.’ He turned and went into the house. The two globe-trotters, left to themselves on the verandah, looked at each other without a word. Through the darkness and stillness of the tropical night the humming of mosquitoes was waning, and the silence was only broken by an occasional cry, or the barking of a dog from the coolie quarters. A table covered with drinks and packs of cards was pushed aside, and the dying lamp cast a flickering glow on the two recumbent figures. The fragrance of lime and pepper trees came floating gently in on the warm night air. Clemenson sat flicking restlessly and distractedly at the now sleepy mosquitoes with his handkerchief, and Taplin, smoking quietly, looked down the path where Synge had disappeared. Both were relieved when Hay reappeared from the house, and sinking into a long chair, took up the word. ‘I’m going to tell you chaps one of the most extraordinary yarns you’ll ever hear. I don’t attempt to explain it--I don’t know anything about heredity--thank heaven _I’m_ not a doctor--but I’ve been in the Strait Settlements, and I’ve seen things there that--Still I _don’t_ understand, and I don’t care to,--all I know is, the thing happened.’ He paused a minute to concoct himself a drink, and then went on: ‘You fellows have been here three weeks--jolly glad we’ve been to have you--and you’ve seen a lot of Synge. I suppose you’ve both noticed that somewhere or other about him there’s blood that isn’t white?’ Nods from his listeners.