The doctor made no answer. He looked out of the window sullenly. For once it was not raining and across the bay you saw nestling among the trees the huts of a native village. "I think I'll take advantage of the rain stopping to go out," he said. "Please don't bear me malice because I can't accede to your wish," said Davidson, with a melancholy smile. "I respect you very much, doctor, and I should be sorry if you thought ill of me." "I have no doubt you have a sufficiently good opinion of yourself to bear mine with equanimity," he retorted. "That's one on me," chuckled Davidson. When Dr Macphail, vexed with himself because he had been uncivil to no purpose, went downstairs, Miss Thompson was waiting for him with her door ajar. "Well," she said, "have you spoken to him?" "Yes, I'm sorry, he won't do anything," he answered, not looking at her in his embarrassment. But then he gave her a quick glance, for a sob broke from her. He saw that her face was white with fear. It gave him a shock of dismay. And suddenly he had an idea. "But don't give up hope yet. I think it's a shame the way they're treating you and I'm going to see the governor myself." "Now?" He nodded. Her face brightened. "Say, that's real good of you. I'm sure he'll let me stay if you speak for me. I just won't do a thing I didn't ought all the time I'm here." Dr Macphail hardly knew why he had made up his mind to appeal to the governor. He was perfectly indifferent to Miss Thompson's affairs, but the missionary had irritated him, and with him temper was a smouldering thing. He found the governor at home. He was a large, handsome man, a sailor, with a grey toothbrush moustache; and he wore a spotless uniform of white drill. "I've come to see you about a woman who's lodging in the same house as we are," he said. "Her name's Thompson." "I guess I've heard nearly enough about her, Dr Macphail," said the governor, smiling. "I've given her the order to get out next Tuesday and that's all I can do." "I wanted to ask you if you couldn't stretch a point and let her stay here till the boat comes in from San Francisco so that she can go to Sydney. I will guarantee her good behaviour." The governor continued to smile, but his eyes grew small and serious. "I'd be very glad to oblige you, Dr Macphail, but I've given the order and it must stand." The doctor put the case as reasonably as he could, but now the governor ceased to smile at all. He listened sullenly, with averted gaze. Macphail saw that he was making no impression. "I'm sorry to cause any lady inconvenience, but she'll have to sail on Tuesday and that's all there is to it." "But what difference can it make?" "Pardon me, doctor, but I don't feel called upon to explain my official actions except to the proper authorities." Macphail looked at him shrewdly. He remembered Davidson's hint that he had used threats, and in the governor's attitude he read a singular embarrassment.