"I'll get Jervis to send his motor-boat to Apia at once. We'll get a doctor out by to-morrow afternoon." There was a long pause before the old man answered, "I shall be dead by then." A ghastly expression passed over Mackintosh's pale face. He forced himself to laugh. "What rot! You keep quiet and you'll be as right as rain." "Give me a drink," said Walker. "A stiff one." With shaking hand Mackintosh poured out whisky and water, half and half, and held the glass while Walker drank greedily. It seemed to restore him. He gave a long sigh and a little colour came into his great fleshy face. Mackintosh felt extraordinarily helpless. He stood and stared at the old man. "If you'll tell me what to do I'll do it," he said. "There's nothing to do. Just leave me alone. I'm done for." He looked dreadfully pitiful as he lay on the great bed, a huge, bloated, old man; but so wan, so weak, it was heart-rending. As he rested, his mind seemed to grow clearer. "You were right, Mac," he said presently. "You warned me." "I wish to God I'd come with you." "You're a good chap, Mac, only you don't drink." There was another long silence, and it was clear that Walker was sinking. There was an internal haemorrhage and even Mackintosh in his ignorance could not fail to see that his chief had but an hour or two to live. He stood by the side of the bed stock still. For half an hour perhaps Walker lay with his eyes closed, then he opened them. "They'll give you my job," he said, slowly. "Last time I was in Apia I told them you were all right. Finish my road. I want to think that'll be done. All round the island." "I don't want your job. You'll get all right." Walker shook his head wearily. "I've had my day. Treat them fairly, that's the great thing. They're children. You must always remember that. You must be firm with them, but you must be kind. And you must be just. I've never made a bob out of them. I haven't saved a hundred pounds in twenty years. The road's the great thing. Get the road finished." Something very like a sob was wrung from Mackintosh. "You're a good fellow, Mac. I always liked you." He closed his eyes, and Mackintosh thought that he would never open them again. His mouth was so dry that he had to get himself something to drink. The Chinese cook silently put a chair for him. He sat down by the side of the bed and waited. He did not know how long a time passed. The night was endless. Suddenly one of the men sitting there broke into uncontrollable sobbing, loudly, like a child, and Mackintosh grew aware that the room was crowded by this time with natives. They sat all over the floor on their haunches, men and women, staring at the bed. "What are all these people doing here?" said Mackintosh. "They've got no right. Turn them out, turn them out, all of them."