The little man was waiting with expectant smile under a dome of sheltered lights in the dining-hall.  Something of his dazed, ashen look brought back to Bedient the afternoon of the great wind—­the Captain expecting to stick to his ship....  The table was set for two, and on one corner was the fresh handkerchief and the rose-dark meerschaum bowl.  Bedient took his old place at the other’s chair until the Captain was seated—­and both were laughing strangely....  The ships from Holland brought all manner of European delicacies.  Fresh meats and Northern vegetables arrived every eight days in the refrigerators of the alternating Dryden steamers, Hatteras and Henlopen, from New York.  Most tropical fruits were native to Equatoria—­those thick, abbreviated red bananas, and small oranges with thin skin of suede finish, so sharply sweet that one never forgets the first taste.  These were served in their own foliage.

Much of the solid and comfortable furnishing of the hacienda had come from the old English house of the Carreras’ in Surrey.  The Captain’s cook, Leadley, and his personal factotum, Falk, were English.  A dozen natives kept the great house in order; and their white dress was as fresh and pleasing as the stewards of an Atlantic liner.  As a matter of fact, Captain Carreras had softened in this kingly luxury, the infinite resourcefulness of which was startling to Bedient, who had known but simplicities all his years, and who even in the Orient had been his own servant.

The Captain lit his pipe but forgot to keep it going.  His eyes turned to Bedient again and again, and each time with deeper regard.  Often he cleared his voice—­but failed to speak.  The young man plunged into the heart of things—­and finally with effort, the other interrupted.

“You are not what I expected—­forgive me, Andrew——­”

“You mean I’ve disappointed you?  Thinking a long time about one—­sometimes throws the mind off the main road of reality—­”

“Dear God, not disappointed....  The Man has come to you in a different way than I expected, that’s all.  What has India been doing to you?”

“It made New York very strange to me,” said Bedient.

“You are like an Oriental,” Carreras added.  “Oh, they are all mad up in The States....  It’s very good to have you back.  I wonder why it was—­that I never doubted you’d come?” Here the Captain swallowed some wine without adequately preparing his throat, and fell to coughing.  Then he rose with the remark that he had experienced altogether too much joy for one old man, in a single day—­and started for bed in confusion.  Bedient sat back laughing softly, but noting the feeble movement of the other’s limbs, quickly gave his arm.  Up they went together....  In the big room alone, Bedient put on night garments; and unsatisfied, crossed after a time to the Captain’s quarters.  He found the old man sitting in the dark by the window, the meerschaum glowing....  It may have been the darkness altogether; or that Bedient as a man gave the other an affection that the boy could not; in any event that night, they found each other across the externals.