He gazed for a second or two at the stone, lifted it to his ear as if listening, and lowering his hand to the turf, bent over it and gazed again. "Ay, _he_ could understand and see into you, my beauty! _He_ could hear the little drums tum-a-rumbling, and the ox-bells and bangles tinkling, and the shuffle of the elephants going by; _he_ could read the lust in you, and the blood and the sun flickering and licking round the _kris_ that spilt it--for it's the devil you have in you, my dear. But we know you--he and I--he and I. Ah! there you go," he muttered as the hounds broke into cry, and the riders swept round the edge of the copse towards the sound of a view-halloo. "There you go," he nodded after the Rajah; "but ride as you will, the East is in you, great man--its gold in your blood, its dust in your eyelids, its own stink in your nostril; and, ride as you will, you can never escape it." He clasped his knees and leaned back against the slope, following the grey horse and its rider with idolatrous gaze; and I noted that one of the clasped hands lacked the two middle fingers. "You know him?" I asked. "You have seen him out there, at Sarawak?" "I never saw him; but I heard of him." He smiled to himself. "It's not easy to pass certain gates in the East without hearing tell of the Rajah Brooke." For a while he sat nursing his knee while I filled and lit a pipe. Then he turned abruptly, and over the flame of the match I saw his eyes, the pupils clouded around the iris and, as it were, withdrawn inward and away from the world. "Ever heard of Cagayan Sulu?" he asked. "Never," said I. "Who or what is it?" "It's an island," said he. "It lies a matter of eighty miles off the north-east corner of Borneo--facing Sandakan, as you might say." "Who owns it?" He seemed to be considering the question. "Well," he answered slowly, "if you asked the Spanish Government I suppose they'd tell you the King of Spain; but that's a lie. If you asked the natives--the Hadji Hamid, for instance--you'd be told it belonged to them; and that's half a lie. And if you asked the Father of Lies he might tell you the truth and call me for witness. I lost two fingers there--the only English flesh ever buried in those parts--so I've bought my knowledge." "How did you come there?" I asked,--"if it's a fair question." He chuckled without mirth. "As it happens, that's _not_ a fair question. But I'll tell you this much, I came there with a brass band." I began to think the man out of his mind. "With the instruments, that is. I'd dropped the bandmaster on the way. Look here," he went on sharply, "the beginning is funny enough, but I'm telling you no lies. We'll suppose there was a ship, a British man-of-war--name not necessary just now." "I think I understand," I nodded.