“Davidson looked up at the sky; but there was to be seen no balloon from which she could have fallen on that spot.  When he brought his distracted gaze down, it rested on a child holding on with a brown little paw to the pink satin gown.  He had run out of the grass after her.  Had Davidson seen a real hobgoblin his eyes could not have bulged more than at this small boy in a dirty white blouse and ragged knickers.  He had a round head of tight chestnut curls, very sunburnt legs, a freckled face, and merry eyes.  Admonished by his mother to greet the gentleman, he finished off Davidson by addressing him in French.

“‘Bonjour.’

“Davidson, overcome, looked up at the woman in silence.  She sent the child back to the hut, and when he had disappeared in the grass, she turned to Davidson, tried to speak, but after getting out the words, ‘That’s my Tony,’ burst into a long fit of crying.  She had to lean on Davidson’s shoulder.  He, distressed in the goodness of his heart, stood rooted to the spot where she had come upon him.

“What a meeting—­eh?  Bamtz had sent her out to see what white man it was who had landed.  And she had recognised him from that time when Davidson, who had been pearling himself in his youth, had been associating with Harry the Pearler and others, the quietest of a rather rowdy set.

“Before Davidson retraced his steps to go on board the steamer, he had heard much of Laughing Anne’s story, and had even had an interview, on the path, with Bamtz himself.  She ran back to the hut to fetch him, and he came out lounging, with his hands in his pockets, with the detached, casual manner under which he concealed his propensity to cringe.  Ya-a-as-as.  He thought he would settle here permanently—­with her.  This with a nod at Laughing Anne, who stood by, a haggard, tragically anxious figure, her black hair hanging over her shoulders.

“‘No more paint and dyes for me, Davy,’ she struck in, ’if only you will do what he wants you to do.  You know that I was always ready to stand by my men—­if they had only let me.’

“Davidson had no doubt of her earnestness.  It was of Bamtz’s good faith that he was not at all sure.  Bamtz wanted Davidson to promise to call at Mirrah more or less regularly.  He thought he saw an opening to do business with rattans there, if only he could depend on some craft to bring out trading goods and take away his produce.

“’I have a few dollars to make a start on.  The people are all right.’

“He had come there, where he was not known, in a native prau, and had managed, with his sedate manner and the exactly right kind of yarn he knew how to tell to the natives, to ingratiate himself with the chief man.

“’The Orang Kaya has given me that empty house there to live in as long as I will stay,’ added Bamtz.

“‘Do it, Davy,’ cried the woman suddenly.  ’Think of that poor kid.’

“’Seen him?  ‘Cute little customer,’ said the reformed loafer in such a tone of interest as to surprise Davidson into a kindly glance.