Perceval Gibbon

“ From his veranda he watched her to the palm-clad point, and then sat back wondering, for he had not seen the white parasol go aboard again. Usually the steamer's departure unlatched a kind of embarrassment that kept him to his house so long as she remained. He did not so much mind their staring at him there; he was entrenched, as it were, and fortified by possessions which they could easily envy. But he did not care to meet English folk on the streets; he feared that an instinct to cringe or run might get the better of him. His was no pedestal of shame to flaunt a daring hardihood upon. ”

“ He was a tall man, in the early ripeness of life, loosely knit, and stooping in the shoulders. His head was bald and white; the vivacity of the face, the sharpness of the features, and something of slippery strength in the expression and glance were at variance with a kind of large clumsiness in his every attitude. ”

“ Martyn shrugged his shoulders, smiling. "We are in a very awkward position," he said, easily. "These boats really serve next to no purpose at all. No whistle or anything to give warning that she means to cut and run. I fancy I shall make it hot for somebody as soon as I get within touch of the telegraph-wire again. You see," he went on, and this time he sank his voice and puckered his face to the authentic pitch of candor—"you see, it's distinctly unpleasant for Miss Ryan."
"H'm." Dunbar glanced at the girl in time to catch her little start. Martyn saw it too, and continued. ”

“ It's just possible that the mail-boat did not get clear of the mouth before dark."
"What do you mean?" demanded Martyn. "She's eating up the miles between here and Beira by now."
Dunbar turned to the girl. "There are no buoys, you know, and no lights," he explained. " And if she didn't succeed in getting out before sundown she wouldn't take any risks. There are miles of sand-banks between here and the sea, and she'd simply anchor till daylight. So there's just a bare chance that she may be there now."
"Rot!" said Martyn. "It's a thousand to one against it. ”

“ Dunbar stood back, and saw perplexity and not a little irritation replace the suavity of Mr. Martyn.
"Really," said that gentleman, "I don't see why you should refuse. We must have something to eat, and since Mr. Dunbar is good enough to receive us—"
"Perhaps," said Dunbar, steadily, "Miss Ryan would like to dine alone. That can easily be arranged."
She raised her head at this, and gave him back look for look.
"I will change my mind," she said. "If you will send the maid to me—"
He hastened to ring. "I'm afraid there are only Kafir women," he said. "Inhambane boasts no others. ”

“ In Inhambane he was held in high respect, for he had more money than any of the Portuguese officers had dreamed of, and a waif word that had drifted in from the outside world as to how he got it impaired that respect not at all. There would be smiles, sometimes, as they passed his veranda on their way down to the mail-boat. He had seen such smiles, and the thumb jerked over shoulder that pointed him out, and he knew exactly what was being said.
"He could be arrested as soon as he set foot on her deck," one was explaining to another. "An English steamer is England, they hold. ”

“ It's the least I could do. One must run straight."
"Must one?" There was the chill of hammered metal in the tone. "Well, you'd like a wash before dinner, no doubt. Clean hands are a comfort, aren't they? Let me show you a room."
Dunbar's own preparations were quick, for he was back in the salon ten minutes afterwards. Here, standing at the window, he waited, looking out at the whispering darkness with a certain expectancy, till Miss Ryan entered. He turned and brought her a chair. ”