"Make these idle young officers shoot them then, instead of dangling after our daughters. Set Chumbley to work." "The crocodiles never hurt me," drawled the young man. "Rather ugly, certainly, but they've a nice open style of countenance. I like hunting and shooting, but I don't see any fun in making yourself a nuisance to everything that runs or flies, as the doctor there does, shooting, and skinning and sticking pins through 'em, and putting them in glass cases with camphor. I hope you don't do much of that sort of thing, Mr Rosebury?" "I? Oh, no," said the Reverend Arthur, raising his eyes from a dreamy contemplation of the doorway, through which a pleasant murmur of female voices came. "I--I am afraid I am guilty as to insects." "But you draw the line at crocodiles, I suppose? Poor brutes! They never had any education, and if you put temptation in their way, of course they'll tumble in." "And then repent and shed crocodile's tears," said Captain Hilton, smiling. "A vulgar error, sir!" said the doctor, sharply. "Crocodiles have no tear-secreting glands." "They could not wipe their eyes in the water if they had, doctor," said Captain Hilton, merrily. "Of course not, sir," said the doctor; "but as I was saying, gentlemen, when Solomon's ships--" "I say, Perowne," interrupted the little Scotch merchant, in his harsh voice, "hadn't we better join the ladies? If Bolter is going to ventilate his theory I shall go to sleep." "I've done," said the doctor, leaning back and thrusting his hands into his pockets; "but I must say, Stuart, that as an old resident in these parts I think you might give a little attention to a fact of great historical interest, and one that might lead to a valuable discovery of gold. What do you say, Perowne?" "I leave such matters to you scientific gentlemen," said the host, carefully flicking a scrap of cigar-ash from his shirt-front. "You can't tempt Perowne," laughed the little Scot. "He is a regular Mount Ophir in himself, and," he added to himself, "has a flaunting peacock--I mean peahen--of his own." "Nay, nay, Stuart," said the host, smiling meaningly; "I am not a rich man." "Oh, no," chuckled his brother merchant; "he's as poor as a Jew." Mr Perowne shook his head at his harsh-voiced guest, glanced round suavely, as if asking permission of his guests, and then rose from the handsomely-furnished table. "Then we will join the ladies," he said, blandly; and the Chinese servants drew aside the light muslin curtains which hung in graceful folds over the arched door. It was but a few steps across a conservatory, the bright tints of whose rich tropical flowers and lustrous sheen of whose leaves were softened and subdued by the light of some half-dozen large Chinese lanterns, cleverly arranged so as to give the finest effect to the gorgeous plants.