It was Heywood’s turn to be struck dumb.  He grew very pale.

“Oh, I say,” he stammered at last, “it’s not fair—­”

“Don’t spoil the happiest evening—­” whispered the girl beside him.

He eyed her ruefully, groaned, then springing up, went swiftly to the head of the table and wrung the captain’s brown paw, without a word to say.

“Can do, can do,” said Captain Kneebone, curtly.  “I was afraid ye might not want to come.”

Then followed a whirlwind; and Teppich rose with his moustache bristling, and the ready Nesbit jerked him down again in the opening sentence; and everybody laughed at Heywood, who sat there so white, with such large eyes; and the dinner going by on the wings of night, the melancholy “boy” circled the table, all too soon, with a new silver casket full of noble cigars from Paiacombo, Manila, and Dindigul.

As the three ladies passed the foot of the table, Rudolph saw Mrs. Forrester make an angry signal.  And presently, like a prisoner going to his judge, Chantel slipped out of the room.  He was not missed; for already the streaming candle-flames stood wreathed in blue layers, nor was it long before the captain, mounting his chair, held a full glass aloft.

“Here,” he cried in triumph, “here’s to every nail in the hoof—­”

The glass crashed into splinters and froth.  A flying stone struck the boom of the punkah, and thumped on the table.  Through the open windows, from the road, came a wild chorus of yells, caught up and echoed by many voices in the distance.

“Shutters!” called Heywood.  “Quick!”

As they slammed them home, more stones drummed on the boards and clattered against the wall.  Conches brayed somewhere, followed by an unaccountable, sputtering fusillade as of tiny muskets, and then by a formidable silence.  While the banqueters listened in the smoky room, there came a sullen, heavy sound, like a single stroke on a large and very slack bass-drum.

“Kau fai!” shrilled the voices below; and then in a fainter gabble, as though hurrying off toward the sound,—­“kau fai!”

“The Black Dog,” said Heywood, quietly.  “He has barked.  Earlier than we figured, Gilly.  Lucky the scaffolding’s up.  Gentlemen, we all know our posts.  Guns are in the first bedroom.  Quietly, now.  Rudie, go call Chantel.  Don’t frighten the women.  If they ask about that noise, tell ’em anything—­Dragon Boat Festival beginning.  Anything.—­We can easily hold this place, while the captain gets ’em out to his ship.”

The captain wheeled, with an injured air.

“What ship?” he inquired testily.  “Told ye, plain, I was retired.  Came the last bit in a stinking native boat, and she’s cleared by now.  Think I carry ships in my pocket?”

Outside, the swollen discord of shouts, thunder of gongs, and hoarse calling of the conches came slowly nearer, extending through the darkness.