In another moment a hairy brown hand had appeared and clutched the balcony railings, and in another the face of the Malay was peering through these at the man on the couch.  His expression was an unpleasant grin, by reason of the krees he held between his teeth, and he was bleeding from an ugly wound in his cheek.  His hair wet to drying stuck out like horns from his head.  His body was bare save for the wet trousers that clung to him.  Bailey’s first impulse was to spring from the couch, but his legs reminded him that this was impossible.

By means of the balcony and tree the man slowly raised himself until he was visible to Mrs Green.  With a choking cry she made for the door and fumbled with the handle.

Bailey thought swiftly and clutched a medicine bottle in either hand.  One he flung, and it smashed against the acacia.  Silently and deliberately, and keeping his bright eyes fixed on Bailey, the Malay clambered into the balcony.  Bailey, still clutching his second bottle, but with a sickening, sinking feeling about his heart, watched first one leg come over the railing and then the other.

It was Bailey’s impression that the Malay took about an hour to get his second leg over the rail.  The period that elapsed before the sitting position was changed to a standing one seemed enormous—­days, weeks, possibly a year or so.  Yet Bailey had no clear impression of anything going on in his mind during that vast period, except a vague wonder at his inability to throw the second medicine bottle.  Suddenly the Malay glanced over his shoulder.  There was the crack of a rifle.  He flung up his arms and came down upon the couch.  Mrs Green began a dismal shriek that seemed likely to last until Doomsday.  Bailey stared at the brown body with its shoulder blade driven in, that writhed painfully across his legs and rapidly staining and soaking the spotless bandages.  Then he looked at the long krees, with the reddish streaks upon its blade, that lay an inch beyond the trembling brown fingers upon the floor.  Then at Mrs Green, who had backed hard against the door and was staring at the body and shrieking in gusty outbursts as if she would wake the dead.  And then the body was shaken by one last convulsive effort.

The Malay gripped the krees, tried to raise himself with his left hand, and collapsed.  Then he raised his head, stared for a moment at Mrs Green, and twisting his face round looked at Bailey.  With a gasping groan the dying man succeeded in clutching the bed clothes with his disabled hand, and by a violent effort, which hurt Bailey’s legs exceedingly, writhed sideways towards what must be his last victim.  Then something seemed released in Bailey’s mind and he brought down the second bottle with all his strength on to the Malay’s face.  The krees fell heavily upon the floor.

“Easy with those legs,” said Bailey, as young Fitzgibbon and one of the boating party lifted the body off him.