The captain seized both hands again, and took on—­for his height—­a Roman stateliness.

“I have.”  He nodded solemnly.  “Bar sells, I have.  No more, now.  We’ll—­be-George, we’ll announce it, at the banquet!  Announce, that’s the word.  First time in my life:  announce!”

Heywood suddenly collapsed on a sack, and laughed himself into abject silence.

“Awfully glad, old chap,” he at last contrived to say, and again choked.  The captain looked down at the shaking body with a singular, benign, and fatherly smile.

“A funny world, ain’t it?” he declared sagely.  “I’ve known this boy a long time,” he explained to Rudolph.  “This matter’s—­We’ll let you in, presently.  Lend me some coolies here, while we turn your dinner into my banquet.  Eh?  You don’t care?  Once in a bloomin’ lifetime.”

With a seafaring bellow, he helped Rudolph to hail the servants’ quarters.  A pair of cooks, a pair of Number Twos, and all the “learn-pidgin” youngsters of two households came shuffling into the court; and arriving guests found all hands broaching cargo, in a loud confusion of orders and miscomprehension.

The captain’s dinner was the more brilliant.  Throughout the long, white room, in the slow breeze of the punkah, scores of candles burned soft and tremulous, as though the old days had returned when the brown sisters lighted their refectory; but never had their table seen such profusion of viands, or of talk and laughter.  The Saigon stores—­after daily fare—­seemed of a strange and Corinthian luxury.  The captain’s wine proved excellent.  And his ruddy little face, beaming at the head of the table, wore an extravagant, infectious grin.  His quick blue eyes danced with the light of some ineffable joke.  He seemed a conjurer, creating banquets for sheer mischief in the wilderness.

“There’s a soup!” he had proclaimed.  “Patent, mind ye!  Stick a knife into the tin, and she ’eats ’erself!”

Among all the revelers, one face alone showed melancholy.  Chantel, at the foot of the table, sat unregarded by all save Rudolph, who now and then caught from him a look filled with gloom and suspicion.  It was beside Rudolph that Mrs. Forrester laughed and chattered, calling all eyes toward her, and yet finding private intervals in which to dart a sidelong shaft at her neighbor.  Rudolph’s ears shone coral pink; for now again he was aboard ship, hiding a secret at once dizzy, dangerous, and entrancing.  Across the talk, the wine, the many lights, came the triumph of seeing that other hostile face, glowering in defeat.  Never before had Chantel, and all the others, dwindled so far into such nonentity, or her presence vibrated so near.

Soon he became aware that Captain Kneebone had risen, with a face glowing red above the candles.  Even Sturgeon forgot the flood of bounties, and looked expectantly toward their source.  The captain cleared his throat, faltered, then turning sheepish all at once, hung his head.