Henry C. Rowland

“ So I hung over the taffrail and watched the flitter and sparkle of lights against the blackly neutral-colored mountain side, now and again idly trying to pick up the going and coming of an occasional swift sampan as it glanced across a lane of flickering light. Once I heard a sound as sinister as the black, eddying waters under our stern. ”

“ For this disease he tell me that he must drink the whisky, and so I knows when it approach. To-day he have drink so much of the whisky that I fear he may be ill before the morning."
He had turned to me, dropping his voice, and the dread that showed in the brave gray eyes as he finished speaking was heartrending to see.
"Tell me about this sickness, Shiraz. I am a doctor, and perhaps I can help you. What is it like?"
"It is very terrible, sar. Once he will believe that there follow him swarms of jungle-monkeys that jabber and mock and dance around in circles. ”

“ Rum little beggar—so quaint and old-fashioned. Moore lost his wife a few years ago, and since then he's been trailing all over Asia. Drags the kid around with him. Beastly shame; Shiraz ought to be at school and playing with other children. He can scarcely speak English! He and his dad chin in some Hindu dialect."
"It's a pity," I answered.
"That's just what I say. Just because his own life's been spoiled is no reason for neglecting the boy, poor little chap. See how done-up he looks! A chap who knows Moore slightly told me that he spends most of his time crystal-gazing, and all that rot. ”

“ He was of medium height, broad-shouldered, but lean and wiry, with a small waist and narrow hips. His head was very thoroughbred, with small, close-set ears, and his face was tanned almost to mahogany. He wore a closely-trimmed Vandyke, and there was something wonderfully sympathetic in the expression of his eyes.
"Looks like a plucky sort of chap who is putting up a hard but losing fight against an overwhelming tragedy," said my friend, and this diagnosis impressed me as accurate.
Moore quickly ran off his string, and Brown took the opportunity to go over and speak to him. ”

“ He dropped the ball, the better and harder to use his fists, and I was wondering what latent instinct had caused a boy of his apparent Eastern education to resort to his fists as naturally as a puppy brought up with kittens would bite rather than scratch, when suddenly he swung at an assailant on his left, stepped squarely on the tennis-ball, and the next instant both stocky legs shot up in the air, and he landed with a thud squarely on his square little back. ”

“ Yes—I believe he has. Poor chap, I remember now. He married a great beauty, an American girl, whom he met in London. They were to take a tour around the world, but lived for about a year in India, where Moore did some of his best work, painting rajas and Hindus and things. Afterward they went to Persia, where he did a portrait of the Shah. I believe that there was a child born there, and not long afterwards Mrs. Moore met with an accident while riding. Horse fell on top of her and smashed her all up! Died of her injuries. Ugh! I don't wonder the poor devil drinks ”

“ Two hours later Moore came to my cabin with a look upon his face that made me want to shake his hand.
"We are going home, Doctor,—Shiraz and I—back to the States. I have just engaged a passage on this steamer as far as Bombay, where we shall leave you to catch a P. &. O. I have finished living for myself. From this time on I live for Shiraz. ”